The difference that is betwixt and between

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on March 11, 2022 @ 7:14 am

The difference between
A scapegoat
And a buck
Stops here

[Even with regards
Women [
And even
Personality disorders]
State costings
Ends of the line
]

Is a suspect
Rhetorical device.

I’d draw you
A diagram

But I’m all out

Of lines

‘Hamlet’s onanist kvetch’

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on March 10, 2022 @ 10:28 am

Class
Ceiling
Fair
Wand

‘Pour pauvre X (jeux [t’aimes] des parlour)’

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on @ 10:27 am

A void
Accismus
Ars

(Advanced
Academic
A-chef mens)

Póg mo thóin

This poem is not allowed

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on March 9, 2022 @ 4:38 am

St Antonin
Unlike
St Max

And even
less like the Temple

Was misdiagnosed

And he was
A noisy fucker

Which, as it turns out
Was also why
He liked her

As she was too
If not more so

This is not (yet another) love song

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on March 6, 2022 @ 7:37 am

In my non-localised
skinny love
state of mind.
A long-form
aggregate
consciously visualised
shadow-work
projection,
left-hand path
spreadsheet
systems analysis
desire

as non-immediate
terrain of will

(my war on
or with,
using
Dionysus’ terroir)

Playing on
both serendipities
and zembleities
for a eudamonian
(morning moaning and groaning)
querencia

I am searching for
(to be honest
enough – a rarity, I know)
a been there
got the t-shirt
heels high
(but knows
whether or not
and as an
aphrodite sophrosyne
kairos skill-
that my Achilles
heel (sic)
is always drawn to,
like a Hedy Logos
Charioteer,
for her contemporary
Bluetooth
beautiful intelligent grace
sweet waters –

when
not to,

kalon antiscian

for whom
the she, (Herle
Coyne), and I

A queen of swords
queen of hearts,
queen bee
towards whom my
most unconscious
thoughts swarm

Is a quid pro quo
Garden of the Erinyes

An offshoot from Asherah’s potential throne-dom – or up the garden path

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on @ 7:32 am

I was going to buy
Her an orchard, but
Now, that I have been pruned

(And I don’t just mean
the tinned one’s she would ask me
to order for her
with the weekly shop,
on account
of her constitutional
constipation)

I can branch off into

A different Buffalo
Ex Xyst Stance

???

Smokin’ Girl (Not) Too Hot For I!

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on February 9, 2022 @ 7:14 am

Such
An agliophobic
Dirl for
The girls

We both get locked
In a Staci
Haines
Share the pain
Work through

The trauma
Of a long haul
Long Horn
Sub-space
Deep trawl
Prisoner’s Dilemma
Transport shipping
Starlight flight

Fuck it!

In praise of her

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on January 30, 2022 @ 11:53 am

Last night he had left

The gift

At the crossroads

One road a

Green one

He now walked

Nelipot upon his carpet

Thinking of her

And how for him

More than just

A Habermasian

Weak

Transcendentalism

She embodied

More than the entire

Noosphere and

Yet

As an echo

In the atmosphere

The remainder,

The return,

In the οὐσία

That he threw

Up there

Sometimes imagining

Using the Hubble

Telescope as

A catapult

Even though

He knew she

Who his Otherwise

Demonised soul

Could hear

In his own

Way

Was merely

A lesser

Aspect of

Her

She who he gently

Talked to as she

Soothed him

In return

Was by far

The Superior

Soul and clearly

His superior

As demon staff

To the Goddesses

Of all the demon

Shit he waded

Through

In this

Umpteenth

Mortal Coil

And so, as he

Did in every

Incarnation

He loved her

And despite

His hard-bitten

Demon mettle

She brought him

Daily melting

Happiness

She was His

生き甲斐

And so eventually

As he did joyously

Every time

He submitted

To Her

As was His wont

Every Time

And as was

Hers

Leaving them both

Dirl

For each

Other

A Bone

Apart

kadın için kısa olan (or does she know him from Adam?)

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on @ 11:50 am


If your faith
Is not doubtful
It is not-faith
It is mere dogma.

It’s a bitch

To the quick
(of the spirit
of the bone).

Here comes
The shame
Man

With his
Dogged
Hyperprosexia

我们是
Shy of
A Half century
Of Women’s
Work to
Rule

Quick to unfaith

Scorpion maths

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on January 1, 2022 @ 9:04 am

Never forgive a scorpion more than twice.

They’ll sting you anyway.

[There is a third line, I know several variations, know your own, this is the third line, but the second line contains a bifurcation already]

Hence the third line had a fifth, so there are six others unmentioned in this line.


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