Viciously Viscous

Blog post # 163:
(163 = a prime!)

Dream Of Zeroness


Multi-Angular Sap


Counterbalanced By Calculus


---------------------------------

Ha! NO anagrams today!

But I DO have poll-results.

Question: Which of these numbers is your favorite?

5 votes total.

"3/2" received 1 vote.
"Pi" and "infinity" were tied for first place, with 2 votes each.
Receiving no votes were -1, 0, 1, 2, 3, and 2pi.

---------------------------------

New poll!

Which alliteration is your favorite of these?

Trapezoidal Transvestites
Weird Wires
Perplexingly Perpendicular
Methodical Methodists
Symmetrical Symposium
Maniacally Manhandled
Dichotomous Dictators
Metaphysical Metaphor
Irrelevant Iridescence
Absurdly Abstract

---------------------------------

One poem today. Written yesterday.

Trigonometric Syrup
--------------------

Trigonometric syrup strays
almost from its variation.
It curves and courses into
such balanced asymmetry
Otherwise aperiodic,
otherwise globular. And yet,
Its repetition is round.
Yes, its rotation is
Formulated from this
sweet gunk. But that fluid
Flows through temporary annuli.
It is strung
Through the inner hollowness
of our sidewaysness.

Within the sine-waves
each wound weirdly, this
Syrup is spun from waxy ash
and composition.
It is spun from
mathematical emptiness made as
Agile sap. And it pivots
around its oddness, around
Its secretions drawn to equal
hopeful hypotheses, yes.

It spins around its finiteness
extensively forever.
And it fluctuates and
becomes purposeful, becomes
Recurrent and glassy.
It is to transform and
Taper and taste of
vain waviness. And it will
Complicate its resting,
because it is massive, it is
Sticky and inconsistently cyclic,
as it is perhaps
Also inconsistently
multi-angular.

---------------------------------

Leroy

Negative Zero

Blog post # 162:
(162 = 2*3*3*3*3.)

Introspectively Excreted


Lingering Oscillation


Commonplacency


Intermediately Opposed


Inflections Partially Inert


I only really like the last picture.
But I posted the others anyway.
Sorry.

---------------------------------

Anagram:
(Did I publish this one already?)


Some Imagined Minds
=
Dimensions' Dim Game

----------------------------------

We're all savages. We're all monsters.

I fear the future; I intensely do.
I can't give details of what I fear about the future, but just know there is a lot to fear... for all of us.

The opposite-people are attacking. They may win. They may never lose again.
I don't hear the voices. No, they hear the voices. And their voices say they must oppose all that is good and just.
Their voices say it is time to violently take control, and keep that control, no matter how atrocious the means to do so.

They will enslave us, if we are lucky. They will torture us to death, if we are not.

They are us, they are you.
And they are them, the very same 'them' that justifies all our paranoia.

They are savages. They are monsters.

They are our death
and the death of all we cherish.
They are ignorance; they are idiocy.
They are liars.

And they are coming for us. They are coming. Now, they have arrived...

------------------------------

No poetry today!

Leroy

Unstable Smoothness

Blog post # 161:
(161 = 7*23.)

Syrup Becoming Clouds


Prehensile Flatness


Grotesque Remorse


Into External Radii


Actually, each one of these picture almost didn't exist. Every one of the last few days I really felt like not making any art, but I made it anyway.

--------------------------------

Anagram!
(Well, this anagram isn't worthy of an exclamation point. So, "anagram.", then.)


Sum Of Those Multiplications
=
It is some plus much, if not a lot.

--------------------------------

The new "It'll happen when Hell freezes over":

It'll happen...
..when Justin Bieber grows facial-hair.

--------------------------------

This will warm almost every American's heart...

HEIL HITLER!!!!

Ah, how sweet. Makes ya' patriotic, doesn't it?

Sorry, pissed about stuff in the news, as you probably have guessed.

--------------------------------

No poetry today!!!
(Yippee!)


Leroy

Illiterate Alliteration

Blog Post # 160:
(160 = 2*2*2*2*2*5.)

A little alliteration...

Unto Coarse Cosines


Theoretical Trapezoid

(... I know. The phonemes don't match, but the letters do.)

Tangential Transposition


---------------------------

An anagram!


Reality's Obvious Plan
=
Vain Trouble Is As Ploy

---------------------------

Nothing more,... except a poem! (Damn it.)

(Written yesterday.)

These Theses
-------------

These theses are
theoretically theological, yet they
Are configured amorphously as
their cursive depiction
Of rust and blubber.
Yet they are counterbalanced
By equilateral equations
each formulaic and
Uncertain and
unilaterally multiplicative. Ah,
These theses are as
the paradoxical tautologies
Implied by indentations and
incantations, implied by
Imagined metals of
colorless unobviousness. But they
Presume to be the very riddles
they rid from our
Dreams of intellect. Yes,
they seem to apathetically
Remark regarding
every puzzling topology
Appearing within my vantage,
appearing so
Mysteriously as all miniscule
and hypothetical
Writings scribed in
invisibly plaid notebooks, surely.
For, these theses complicate
their alphabets and
Compound their numerals.
But they will soon be
Ascertained then perceived.
Yes, these parables of
Algorithmic algae and asymmetry
will soon denounce
Those trapezoids. And we
will thus be conforming and
Comfortable regarding them,
regarding such
Atrociousness of genius,
regarding such atrocities of
Truth doubtfully downward
in its sidewaysness.

-------------------------

Loser Leroy

Outside And Inside

Blog post # 159:
(159 = 3*53.)

Inanimate Apex


Limbic Spinning


Somewhat Non-Palindromic


-----------------------------------

A super-duper anagram!
(It rhymes!)

Foolish liar!
Our oneness sees the ruse.
=
Oh, these sins'
erroneous failures lose.

-----------------------------------

New poll!

Which of these numbers is your favorite?

-1
0
1
3/2
2
3
3.14159... (pi)
6.28318... (2 pi)
infinity

-----------------------------------

Two poems. Two poems.

(Written yesterday and today.)

Tangled Hypotheses
--------------------

Beauty's knot becomes
The outside of its consciousness,
Becomes the mind containing
all oneness and
All zeroness otherwise globular.
Yet, these
Lobes theorize regarding
inaccurate numbers
Each counted but alone and
subdivided still.
Yet beautiful loops defile
this game of
Bidirectional conformity.
Ha. I am
Absurd within my
brain's zigzags, yes.
But the iridescent temptations
derived
From my limbic deprivation,
they become
The outside of my
conscious conception,
Become the exterior of
everything nullified
But only asymmetrically
and asymptotically.

Yes, beauty spins the
ribbon from transition.
And it thinks of
that mental wheel
Turning as cloth, turning
as strings into
An elliptic cursedness
winding and wiggling
And becoming the
outside of such a
Neurologically drawn
arrangement arranged
As its inflections, as
its inferiority truly
Cerebral.

---------------------------

Inside The One Circumference
-----------------------------

Inside the one circumference
of a spheroid somewhat
And sometimes oblong,
the flatness (a strand)
Implies a curve. Yet
it bends downwardly
As it is horizontal.
Then it vanishes as
It is diminished, and
it is strung as a
Semi-equatorial reality,
as the one circumference
About its own truncation
folded and overlapping.

Inside the blob (an
oblong-like spheroid made
From pathos and gel and
glass and falseness),
There the wrapping annulus
is denied.
There, the prejudice of
such a curve is
Foolishly speaking these
voices of dictatorial
Syllables. Yes, inside
the gap between
Ovoid and thin matter,
space within is
Never compelled to be
described. And here,
I am semicircular
and 3/4 so. Yes, here,
The circumferences are
erroneous but
Exceptional, are entropic
yet eventual
And held inside this
mental thought, inside
This encirclement
partway complete, partway
Intermittent, partially and
grandly not palindromic,
Not anagrammatic or
alphabetized, but surely
Crescentically formed from this
Continuous certainty's erasing.

-------------------------------

Leroy

A Universe Without Desire Or Truth

Blog post # 158:

Methodically Unbalanced


Amongst Cylindrical Overlapping


An Extremum Wrung


Failure Of Circles


Unrelenting Facade


--------------------------------

Let's review the poll-results, shall we?

Question:
Pick a random word out of the dictionary. Does this word (in your opinion):
1) Describe reality at least somewhat.
2) Not have to do at all with reality.
3) Describe the opposite of reality.

I only received 4 votes total. (And one of those was my own.)
Shameful.
But every vote was for option # 1.
Unanimous!

--------------------------------

Anagram:

Religion faces the ends.
=
Lies forcing death seen.

--------------------------------

Okay, let me bitch.

EVERYONE, without exception (Hey, even the little babies are "sinners", according to Christianity), is a fucking asshole who deserves to burn in Hell, even I.

As I said in an earlier post, maybe this is Hell, and we are all damned to it.

I don't know why I am here. Maybe it is because I am lazy.
But some people still deserve worse than even this damnation. Some people here are so vile, they must not even exist. They are such over-the-top villains, I can't even believe they are real in any way. For, people must basically be good, right? (Or so they say.)
But...
If this IS Hell, then that would explain why the evil antagonists are here. This world possesses the worst of history's criminals and dictators and extremely asinine idiots and other monsters that were not fit for even Purgatory, let alone Heaven.

What did YOU do to deserve to be here? I know you did something. Fuck you, you evil asshole. Welcome to the fire.

---------------------------------

No poetry today!

Leroy

Ashen

Blog post # 157:
(157 = a prime.)


Matter Comparatively Equilateral


Magnificent Ash


-----------------------------------

Not much today.

-----

Some doctors and others say that antidepressants are only placeboes, really. I know these pharmaceuticals are indeed. Because if they really made you happy, then they would be illegal!

(I might have heard this before.)

-----------------------------------

One poem, written today:

Nova Of Such Waking
--------------------

Overwhelming fire of
black flame explodes
Outwardly from a
decisive sun, from that
Star of abstraction and
absolution. Yet
This flare is expressed
truthfully; it is
Made into the
heated emptiness, into the
Heated void eviscerated by
these violent cusps
Of exceptional crescendo.
Yes, never impeded are the
destructive shards
Of supreme conflagration.
They overwhelm
All the cosmos and
vanquish it, and damn it.
But in the subsequent soothing,
ash is surely our
Condemnation. For, reality is
to be encompassed
By such hideous flame.
And in this hell,
That hydrogen will be
its process, will be its
Methodical fusion of
atoms into fire, into
Carcinogenic magnificence
containing all,
Swallowing all,
drowning us each in this
Remarkable infrared,
in this gamma and light.

Then the nova of such waking
will subdue
Our purpose, and so the fire
will be existence.
The heat will be the
savagery and authoritarianism
Pondered by selfish theorists
now illogical
And ignorant in their cessation.
This moltenness
Will finally be flowing still
within its confusing
And burning opaqueness,
within its radiation
Justifiably evil. It will
be flowing still unto
Our own villainy profound,
our own villainy singed
By this ejecta, by this
star certain of its thunder,
Certain of its intentional inertia,
certain in its
Outburst to be screamed,
to be maniacally overwhelming.

-------------------------------

Leroy

Enlightened By Damnation

Blog post # 156:
(156 = 2*2*3*13 = 12*13)

Enlightened By Divergence


Disheveled Periodicity


Grand Intermittency


-------------------------------

An anagram:

A sane androgyny...
=
as Yen and/or Yang.

--

Another:

Gaze. Good zen bliss.
=
Blood zigzags seen.

(Well, the two halves of this last anagram are kind of the opposite of each other.
Maybe this one is an... antigram.)
... (Unless bloody zigzags give you peace, of course...)

--------------------------

I sometimes suspect that I have already died, and this is the after-life. Actually, I think this may be Hell, albeit one of the less-grave levels of Hell.

Bad things happen all the time here. Although good things do happen too, the bad is overwhelming the good.

I came close to death when I was a teenager. Maybe I died then. Anyone else suspect what I suspect about the after-life being "reality"? If so, how do you suspect you died? Is this Hell for you, Purgatory, or Heaven? (One person's Hell definitely could be another person's Heaven.)

--------------------------

No poetry today! (Yay!)

Leroy

Worthless Integers

Blog post # 155:
(155 = 5*31.)

Permutation Of Theorems


Overlapping Torque


--------------------------------

I read somewhere recently that most people are so under-skilled, it actually costs more to train them and to employ them than their worth as employees to a company or to society.

Ayn Rand -- whom I am no fan of -- said something along the lines of, only the "elites" (intellectual and wealthy) in our society move our society forward. All other people are worthless, or worse, have negative worth to society.

When you start considering all the resources even the elites use up -- which is actually more, on average, than what the common people use; and the common people use lots of resources -- then maybe it makes sense to say that most of us ARE worth more dead than alive. (I myself am even worth less than the average member of the hoi polloi, since I am on disability.)

Add to this all the carbon we each add to the atmosphere, and I am ready to give up. Thoughts?

----

But there is no reason to kill yourself.

Since we will all be dead soon, anyway...

--------------------------------

Here's my purpose: Making up anagrams! (Yay! I AM somebody!)

An anagram:

Mathematics' Order
=
Dramatic Theorems

--------------------------------

And, speaking of anagrams, the first of today's poems (written today) contains two anagrams. The first verse and the third verse -- those two verses each with 2 lines -- are both anagrams. (One of these anagrams you have seen before, the other is new.)

This Perpendicular Anagram
---------------------------

As it counts the abaci,
It is scant about each.

For, this perpendicular
anagram reveals
Its theses, reveals
the spiraled zigzags
Amongst those
mathematical words. But
It is as all such
permutations, symmetrical
But balanced by asymmetry,
equilibrial within
This arrangement of
phonemes written rectangularly.

Reality spins
Yet in spirals.

And yet again our
geometries are counted,
Are thus protruding as
protractors, outwardly
And arrayed into lines
and beads upon the
Frame numbered with
dreams of measurements.

Oh, I added these grids
onto these wires,
And then reformed them
laterally into the
Abaci. And from each abacus,
the partiality
Of the completion was
totaled and summed;
Yet its multiplication was
extraneous and
Excessively imagined. Yes,
such things count and order
The incremental abaci.
Then these accomplishments are
Perpetuated on the tabletops
of our truth erased
But varied by those anagrams,
anagrams shaped from
Causality, from purpose,
from matter signifying process,
Signifying an algebra
paradoxically deficient.

-----------------------------

(Written today.)

Lepidopteran Inside The Knot
-----------------------------

Unequal loops are paired
upon their overlapping
To be the torus beneath.
And two of this ring's
Arcs parallel and conjoin
within the
Concavity behind all,
behind that circularity
Of juxtaposed divergence.
There, within the
Hollow, a twisted and
glossy insectile thing
Rises and is concave
at its torso. Yet
Its wings bulge as
translucent lobes;

And they are paired
upon their overlapping.

Yes, this wispy bug does
ascend, yet it
Does not fly nor flee.
It is only placed
By my mind's hypotheses
unto the middle
Of loops and tori and
spirals halved
Then doubled.
Unequal are these wings
Of certainty's assumptions
and impediment. But
The lepidopteran
inside the knot does so
Levitate, despite
its containment. It does pivot
And torque and become
unequal to its own
Positioning. Yes, it is
free amongst its
Strangulation. It is
vastly angular amongst
Its artificiality, amongst
its surreal fluidity
Unequally without depiction.

-----------------------------

Leroy

Geometries Of All

Blog post # 154:
(154 = 2*7*11.)

Theoretical Ascension


Remorseful Trigonometry


Orthogonally Counterbalanced


Polymeric Intent


I like "Orthogonally Counterbalanced" the best of these. But it's title is too literal.

-------------------------------

A new anagram!
(Get this.)

Reality spins..
=
yet in spirals.

-------------------------------

Oh, I was going to write something about my feelings of doom. But I will just go ahead and finish this post up.

So, lastly, a poem.


Infinitely Dimensional
-----------------------

Infinitely dimensional is
tangential space derived from
The thoughts of my genesis
and nonconformity.
Point.
Line.
Square.
Cube.
Tesseract.
Etcetera.
These inductive conjectures
arise and flow as quite
An arc: rightward, forth,
leftward, backwards, upwards,
Rightward, downward,
extending unto these circles each
Equal to spheres, each defined
via every possibility
Of freedom and distance.
Oh, such ellipsoids once
Ellipses, they rotate as
unimagined voids.
They spin as spirals of
angularity, spin as
Loxodromes upon
infinitely dimensional globes,
Outwardly, inwardly,
becoming the vanishing within.

Oh, those currents
of unreal circumferences,
They proceed to bend and
fulfill their dampening. But
This cosmos is alphabetized,
and it is formed with an
Algorithm of ascension.
And sometimes all exceptions
Are periodic. Yes,
sometimes the geometry
Of these helices is peculiar,
despite its
Regularity and fluidity.
For, the measurements
And directions are doubted
but pivotal. Yes, the
Dimensions are undercounted
and flat. And their only
Existence is their finitude
theoretically radiating,
Their finitude
metaphorically uncontained.

---------------------------------

Leroy

Convex Consequence

Blog Post # 153:
(153 = 3*17*3)

Anthropomorphic Causality


Misshapen Genesis


Otherwise Trapezoidal


I like Misshapen Genesis the best. I would have liked Anthropomorphic Causality more, but I plagiarized the idea for this picture.

-------------------------------

Some humor:

Cain's and Able's wives were the...

Genesisters!....

---

The crushing insanity around us is the...

jugger-nuttiness!...

---

Breasts so large they crush you are...

jugger-naughty!...

-------------------------------

Stupigram:

This puzzle is both stupefying and stupid.

Word 1 = the name of a certain color.
Phrase 2 = an anagram of Word 1, a two word phrase.
Take the antonym of one of the words in Phrase 2 and the remaining word in Phrase 2 to get Phrase 3. Phrase 3 and Phrase 2 have the same number of letters.
Anagram the letters in Phrase 3 to get Word Combo 4. Word Combo 4 consists of two verbs (Word 4a and Word 4b), both with the same number of letters.
Anagram the letters of Phrase 3 to get Word Combo 5. Word Combo 5 consists of two nouns (Word 5a and Word 5b), both with the same number of letters.
Word 4a and Word 5a both end with the same letter.
Word 4b and Word 5b both start with the same letter.

What is the following sentence (which isn't true in reality)?..

[Phrase 2] or [Phrase 3], I [Word 4a] the [Word 1] [Word 5a]
after I [Word 4b] the [Word 1] [Word 5b].

Answer in the comments of this post.

----------------------------------

And a poem, sadly. (Written two days ago.)

As Quite A Slot-Machine
----------------------

As a disk -- as a cylinder
too narrow in our
Existence -- within the
paradoxical groove, truth
Rotates and descends
at the slant; it falls
Diagonally unto its
falseness amongst that
Machinery. Oh, in this
despised trough, all reality
Is truncated and made
into such a device.
And the disks are our minds
each predetermined
To roll and fail and yet
imply the cosmos'
Very workings.
Ah, as quite a
Slot-machine, truth is
randomized; and it regards
Time to be only
anthropomorphic. But time
Is a metallic knot within
these disks, falling
Towards fate's empty disservice.
Ah, downwardly,
We are transformed,
despite our transcendence,
Into simply chaos and matter.
We become
Only the very riches
we cannot procure.
Oh, we become those
metaphors of injustice
And science. We become
but the clanging
Of causality and entropy,
become the clanging of
Madness surely probable,
surely mechanical
And unlucky.

------------------------------

Leroy

Lowbrow

Blog post # 152:

Entropic Bird


Erroneous Fulcrum


Insignificant Paradox


Immaterially Homogeneous


Protrusion Of The Collapse


You can tell by the names of my latest pictures, I have been depressed lately.
(And one reason I have been depressed is that my art has been sucking.)

------------------------------

I'm no connoisseur of anything, really.
I'm not picky... except when it comes to my scabs...

------------------------------

I would say that the majority, it seems, of my fellow Americans are actually more stupid than rocks.
You see, the typical rock has an IQ of zero. But most Americans seem to have NEGATIVE intelligence -- most of what they believe is actually the opposite of the truth.

For instance, despite what they believe:
No, President Obama is NOT a Marxist. If anything, he is the opposite, a corporate fascist.
No, Hitler was not a liberal/progressive (even though it has been promoted by some on rightwing talk radio and on Fox News that he was).
No, America is not the freest country on Earth. (Actually, in terms of the numbers of its citizens in prison, it is actually the least free country on Earth.)
And the God many Americans worship, well, "He" is actually the Devil.

Suck it up, Opposite-People.

-------------------------------

No poetry today!! Yay!!!

-------------------------------

A new poll!

Pick a random word out of the dictionary. Does this word (in your opinion):
1) Describe reality at least somewhat
2) Not have anything to do at all with reality
3) Describe the opposite of reality

-------------------------------

Leroy

Fateful Equality

Blog post # 151:
(151 = a prime.)

Periphery Within


Unto Quasi-Roundness


Unattainable Screams


I like "Unto Quasi-Roundness" most of these three pictures.
"Unattainable Screams" I liked right after I made it, but now I hate it. At least I still like its title.

--------------------------------

An anagram!

*
Sadly grasped upon in dim night.
=
Hand-spin grim ugly tops and die.
*

Ah, this anagram is about fate.

---------------------------------

Poll results: (5 votes received.)

Question: Which of these intrigues you most?

Answers and results:
A glossy brain -- 1 vote.
A butterfly with 3 wings -- 2 votes.
Blurry nothingness -- 1 vote.
Words of phosphorous -- 0 votes.
Paradoxical sewage -- 1 vote.
Semicircular immortality -- 0 votes.
Unsurreal radioactivity -- 0 votes.

-----------------------------------

One poem today, that's all. Written yesterday.

Egg And Flower
---------------

Quite an egg resting
behind and askew from quite
A flower, a blossom overturned
and descending --
Upon the flatness, they
pose as such imbalance yet
Balanced, yet counterbalanced
by their truthfulness.
Oh, no, no egg became a flower;
but perhaps, a seed
Did once become this
in its uncertainty. Now the egg
Is to be its own mercy, is
to be the bird of its
Confidence and apathy.
In that tableau made
From oddity and foolishness,
juxtaposed is quite
The dichotomy of epitomization.
Oh, conjoined
Are the crumpled crumbs
of strangeness, of
Unimportant conceit
otherwise grouped. Yes,
The egg is fluid and fertile;
the toppled flower
Is horrendous but benign.
And they together
Are weirdly clangorous, are
quite a quantity
Of asymmetry; they are
the pairing made into
Plant, animal, and atrocity.
They are every inanimate
Fulfillment, are every
iridescence. For, this archetype
Is composed of rotation and
connectedness. It is
Complete within its appearance,
within its curvature
Of dissonant irregularity,
its dissonant curvature very
Irregular and dual,
irregular and equally so.

---

(Note: Yes, I know I just posted a poem about an egg a few days ago. I have actually written a number of poems about eggs, actually.)

-----------------------------

Leroy

Suffer This Euphoria

Blog post # 150:

Just want to deal with it. No more.

Hypothesis Of Hypotenuses


Equilibrially Inconsistent


Segmented Derogation


Semisolidity


--------------------------------

Watching the news lately, I've noticed some people (such as Ms "Blood-Libel") ramble on in...

igno-rants...

--------------------------------

Okay, I don't feel like posting much else. All I can think to write today is this comment about how I can't think of anything (else) to write.

So, let's end our suffering now, shall we... But not before we all greatly suffer!

A poem!...

Written today:

Within Such An
Imagined Brain
--------------

Drawn are the fissures
and crevices within
Such an imagined brain.
Oh, drawn are those
Slots and grooves that
each determine somewhat
The truthful ignorance
of certainty.

In the transcendental mind,
all is eviscerated
Via its intuition, and
all is evaluated
Regarding its
equilateral placement amongst
The lobes of
scribbled hemispheres. For, yes,
The creases are but
random and unspecified.
Yet they are drawn
by the cutting
Of madness and intellect.
Yes, this childish
Imperfection is scrawled
onto the mass that
Is my mental thought...
Its science
Is hewn from those halves,
and it is conjured
In my corpus callosum,
in my limbic betrayal.

Drawn is the purpose of
my strangeness. And
Carved into my solidity
is every segmentation,
Is every glossy iridescence
uttered anew by this
Paradoxical thing,
by this wrinkled dream, a
Dream psychological,
hypothetical, and knotted --
And therefore it has become
a surreal doodle,
Has become a doodle
cursively aperiodic and
Amorphously curved,
amorphously conscious and
Convergent as to its
clamorous but reverberant
Superlatives.

-----------------------

Leroy

Inertia Again

Blog post # 149:

Mysteries Of Such Repentance


A Yolk Absolved


--------

I needed to post these two latest pictures above together, since one is yellowish on a purplish background, and one is purplish on a yellowish background.

Which reminds me...

Which color is my cat's favorite?

Purr-ple...

(Ugg!)

And what did I do when I wrote the joke above?

Yell-Ow!...

(Yes, I'm mature.)

---------------------------

Two poems, written yesterday and today:
(Ow!...)

Unrevealed
------------

Unrevealed is every answer,
is every riddle's
Absolution. Unrevealed is
every consistent truth,
Despite the repression of
entirety, despite the
Relinquishment of life's solitude.
Yes, denied is
Every mystery's wickedness,
is every puzzle's shape.
And unseen are all colors
of our apathy. For,
These apparent revelations are
false and inaccurately
Selfish. Yes, these theorems
are only the axioms
Of logic's blatant absurdities.
Within this cosmos
That we attempted to examine,
we are fools; we
Are just demeaned by
our own injustices.
Oh, never are we
knowledgeable as to any
Reality or temptation. Ha.
We will only be
Those idiots of our obscuration.
We will only
Remain negated in our
conjectures and
Their congruence.
We will never yet
Find the ugliness to be
exacting. Yes, our
Science is damning;
and our mathematics is
Erroneous; and our philosophies
are each childish
And superstitious. And
we are always wronged by
Every assumption, are wronged
by every bigotry
We never repent, by every
empirical discourse
That still equals
its certain invisibility.

-------------------------------

Within The One Egg
--------------------

Magnificent within the one egg,
solitude envelops
This lone bird, a bird not yet
expressed, not yet
Diminished. Its darkness is
lit brightly by hunger.
And its anger is
counterintuitive, ha. Within
This singularity composed of
only agony, the
Bird is afloat but unturning.
It rests introvertedly
Against its umbilical --
that strand of lines.
And it feasts on an
ambivalent yolk. Yes,
Of yellow and temptation,
the syrup becomes such
Substance, becomes the
salve for the single fowl
Alone inside its own depiction.
For, this cocoon
Is quite the calcified ellipsoid,
surely. However,
These fluids swallow
all reality and
Make it into inertia.
This oily selfishness
Courses into the
bird's abdomen, then
Transforms that avian grub
as every saltiness does.
Yes, magnificently within
the one egg,
The animal is to be infinite,
is to be metamorphic.
And it grasps upon
its coming extraction from
Its transcendence.
It grasps upon its
solitude fulfilling
In such magnification,
in such desired development,
Such development unto
that absolution, unto that
Emptiness remembered
via its destined infancy.

----------------------------

Leroy