Beyond One & Zero - Politics Forum.org | PoFo

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Discuss literary and artistic creations, or post your own poetry, essays etc.
Forum rules: No one line posts please.
By RhetoricThug
#14822178
(7)host Connexion: The United Verse

S∞∞∞… Shells dwell in a swollen nebulous ocean, souls share sand and (d)eath (r)ules (e)very (a)ctive (m)elody, for eternity l(earn)ed how to t(urn) the Mother’s cheek. π-anno keys O’ Morpheus mummery rouse a-muse to sing-Kronos symphony as reciprocus Sol rays reach out and touch each r.i.p.ple ringed tone recited by terpsichorean bell-o-buoy; moreover, tender terra-firma dependent stalwart neuronauts tinker with their tactful techno-tools inside an pneumato-systolic astral-ship, reverberating like one pendulous whiff-bound tintinnabulum surfing the sea-change vortex. Verbal vertebrae observe and venerate my do-re-mi dead letter’s deed so-fa-la-t cross over Krishna crucible and prune Fishnu’s ficus. Ornate reincarnation, (r)evolution’s resonance, preserve das tesseract’s sanctity- conservation of energy, zero multiplied by one. Enter hour playground organism through its binary opposition, consume this (cog)nitive (con)figuration, watch entangled quanta quaff sonic tincture, focus on the formula fountain, cultivate kranion crux, enfold fluid fusion, produce perpetual figure ignition and who-what-where-why-how religion. Diluvian poet, the ancient and accepted maelstrom maestro, croon ozonic pabulum, ooze Orphic odyssey fraught with zound.

Who am I, are we I? Yes, we’re 1, and thus I am the sum of all consent, each relatively independent sub-totality of information, one translation of every thing-in-itself, old and new adage (add-age), one word willed upon the united verses infinite page.

Some people enjoy the fruit of humanity, but despise being human. “I wyth aooa nuv te-fiw ano ir td hs.” May this faith based celestial cipher stimulate the concurrent happening or singularity as we utilize the implicit (LAN)gauge behind quantum reason and exploit the logic beyond our local area network gauge, so we can be in a state of super symmetrical interplay with this naturally unfolding mind/matter interface. For I had created this word shavings account (alternating current, numerical deposit) in order to charge each line of currency with source code current so it may collect interest in the noosphere bank. (I’m)mortal and erect, phallic-shaped Faust, fertile forbearers joust. Inspecting multiplex messages. Pure human experience (ape app peer) appearing in front (get behind me, Saturn) of thy mind’s eye (naught nigh naïve), sense we share the ‘password,’ I’m ashing an entry, adding information to our Akashic records.

Ego equals generative operation times itself, E=go2. I (monad man and the fivefold inception) accumulated ‘Born Classified: A Poverty of the Visible Spectrum,’ in order (ordo ab chao) to illuminate a morsel of the infinite mosaic. Media morphology (law of form, musica universalis, cosmological cymatics, logistic semantic resonance) controls my diction, as diligent digits dance, I’m merely an integral vessel or mathematical instrument keeping score. The title- ‘Born Classified: A Poverty of the Visible Spectrum,’ may be known as one mathematical proof, for I can-can prove it, foreword and backward, we’re born classified due to a poverty of the visible spectrum, sense we perceive one limited spectrum (of electromagnetic invigoration) we must compartmentalize (keyword- mentalize) the human experience and (re)invent our purpose (materiam superabat opus) in our own image (perpetuate the human bias).

Conceited Knowledge or Crown Gnosis?
The most difficult aspect of probing and decoding this universe through its occulted sensation: becoming the ontological truth or LOGOS you think you’ve found. Truth in a living sense may be like this- you innerstand that you understand no-thing. Juxtaposition (live no fear, doubtless in every-thing we know), accepting life beyond the one and zero as we exist inside NOW. Humans march through space-time, left-right-left, 010, and produce footnote upon footnote, compiling ancestral residue so they may temporarily accomplish the task at hand. Curiously, each task may be an invention concocted by the human condition. For the pinnacle of NOW continuously consumes our eternal fire, as our eternal fire consumes the pinnacle of NOW. The infinite tree of life recycles its finite fruit.

The Sol film, mimetic mirror, and hypnotic narcosis
Are we pulsating waves, (f)actors cast in a photo-motion cosmic-movie called Maya? Veiled self-replicating somnambulists, interferometric roleplayers roaming through rolling reel-time realm footage, philo-form photo-munition loading Sol’s panorama-mana-script; the omniparous orthogenesis and porous polymorphous telesis… We’re on a Tsar trek, and each omnivore star is a kinetic king addicted to the primeval prana. In other words, we may be drugged props rehearsing in the mirror for tomorrow’s final cut. Indeed, pour thy Nordic lord more mead, por favor.

Telergy
This particular spark of essence continues to externalize a message. I am… I am… I am… using my temporary flesh shell to flash eternal wisdom, for false egos and false idols exist through the illusion of division. In reality (consciousness being the ultimate reality) the universe must be one unified experience or singularity now… now… now I’m finishing what the 1960s started. I love watching your chemical composure continually realign with my Word. Intellectual property doesn’t exist, we co-create reality. Parallel perception discussing and dissecting nuance. I would describe (or inscribe) the phantasm of phantom spasms to be nothing more than extrapolation relations sought by the polarized human condition (split brain reigns). Perhaps I’m not the only writer to gr(ace) this dimension, but I shan’t expect the literati to cross-reference the genetic program running in the background of my composition. If you wish to appreciate my scribbles, please remember, remember membrane members, I poop pens out me rear-end and the sir-render reader cannibalizes my literature. Command death ye cannibals, necromance this word magick! For these little littered letters toll, for we reap what we sow, humming and hemming our way through this fold. Semantic Mammal turns thoughts into Gold, remember my alchemical prose.





-RT, Light-through Guru, Semantic Mammal, etc
By RhetoricThug
#14879380
Agent Steel wrote:Ok, this guy was on acid when he posted this.
Your one-liner doesn't surprise me. I've heard it before...

Next time take a maximum of three drops of acid. Drinking the whole blotter is not a good idea.
viewtopic.php?f=6&t=166559

Instead of engaging in legitimate discussion, many posters resort to posting underhanded comments. :roll:
By RhetoricThug
#14880406
Mr. idée fixe, with his this guy was on acid when he posted this. Aren't you the same character posting degenerate threads like 'Is watching pornography bad for you?' Now you want me to explain 'Beyond One & Zero.' :roll:

How did you come up with this stuff anyway? I'm really curious.

Writing is a complex cognitive process and reading is a complex cognitive process. Why would I discuss the creative process, when you're experiencing problems with the reading process? Tell me, how did I come up with this, I'd like to hear your interpretation. Try not to undermine my imagination by labeling it as a drug-induced exhibition.

Agent Steel wrote:How can someone engage with anything here? It makes no sense.
As for understanding, that depends entirely upon the reader. The user is always the content, and the user is often very evasive, or very stupid.
By Agent Steel
#14880630
So, you're a poet then? You like to write a bunch of creative, interesting sounding stuff just for fun. Is that it?

I cannot make ANY sense of it, I'm sorry. It's like you're speaking a foreign language.
By RhetoricThug
#14880654
Ode of Remembrance for the Fallen, Entertaining Angels Unawares
Agent Steel wrote:So, you're a poet then?
I'm consciousness having a human experience. Poet, sure, if that's how you wish to define RhetoricThug. RT isn't real, he's a mask or titular image 'I' (or the persistent illusion of an abstracted identity) use to explore a technological extension of human consciousness (the inner-net). Like 'Agent Steel,' RT doesn't exist outside of our imagination. We're externalized thought-forms, connected to biological happenings. The creature behind the music/keyboard, the higher-self, is a flesh-shell vessel just like you. The genetic vessel is an expression or permutation of the ever-expanding MONAD nomad (∞universe∞). We're Ω~ONE~Ω Ding an sich, but the electrical impulse or human brain is an instinctive solipsistic operator completely enveloped in a poly-centric cloud of sensation. Everything else is relative, and I'm a self-aware multimodal node communicating through this sensate interface, a finite expression of the infinite 'happening.' I'm not sure why you're colliding with my kinetic matrices, but you're nowhere... Nowhere to be found, yet now here to render an offering. I can feel it, that primordial flame, ye burn ad infinitum... What does your finite life bring us? Speak up, lest we forget.

You like to write a bunch of creative, interesting sounding stuff just for fun.
Indeed, a creative rite.

Is that it?
What is it?

I cannot make ANY sense of it, I'm sorry. It's like you're speaking a foreign language.
Love is the missing link. Now go, manipulate the frequencies, pilot the wave. You have the sword of eternal life. You have the power to create love. It'll be waiting for you in your dreams.

By RhetoricThug
#14880666
Dead breaths we living breathe
Image
By RhetoricThug
#14881381
This thread is ahttps://i.imgur.com/MNlpV5z.gif for https://i.imgur.com/BWMRGVb.gif
"O, let not the flame die out! Cherished age after age
in its dark cavern--in its holy temples cherished. Fed
by pure ministers of love--let not the flame die out!"

Stage El Net wrote:Have you shared your ideas anywhere else besides here? What type of reaction do you get from other people?
https://i.imgur.com/YnVM3EG.jpg My philosophy doesn't have to be validated by ignorance.

Omnificent lingua kiss thyhttps://i.imgur.com/4ax9MnD.jpgEye pierce thy सूत्रात्मन् with Maya's veiled sword, ergo I rim; for to cast a spell is to spell.
#14881392
Hope you can share more of your creations.

How about this from the sixties.

When she wears her bolero
Then she begin to dance
All the pachucos start with holdin' hands

When she drives her Chevy
Sissy's don't dare to glance
Yellow jackets â€~n' red debbles
Buzzin' 'round her hair hive ho

She wears her past like a present
Takes her fancy in the past
Her sedan skims along the floorboard
Her two pipes hummin' carbon cum

Got her wheel out of a B-29 Bomber
Brodey knob amber
Spanish fringe â€~n' talcum tazzles
Forever amber

She looks like an old squaw Indian
She 99 she won't go down
Avocado green, alfalfa yellow
Adorn her to the ground

Tattoos â€~n tarnished utenzles
A snow white bag full o' tunes
Drives a cartune, drives a cartune around
Broma' seltzer blue umbrella
Keeps her up off the ground

Round red sombreros
Wrap her high tap horsey shoes
When she unfolds her umbrella
Pachucos got the blues

Her lovin' makes me so happy
If I smiled I'd crack my chin
Her eyes are so peaceful
Thinks it's heaven she been

Her skin is as smooth as the daisies
In the center where the sun shines in
Smiles as sweet as honey
Her teeth as clean as the combs where the bees go in

When she walks, flowers surround her
Let their nectar come in to the air around her
She loves her love sticks out like stars
Her lovin' sticks out like stars



.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:44, edited 7 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881393
This is brilliant on acid.
It always moves me and brings tears to my eyes. It's about an old sailor and his daughter.....

A thick cloud caught a piper clubs tail
The match struck blue on a railroad rail
The old puff horse was just pullin' through
And a man wore a peg leg forever

I'm on the bum where the hobos run
The air breaks with filthy chatter
Oh, I don't care there's no place there
I don't think it matters

My skin's blazin' through
And my clothes in tatters
And the railroad looked
Like a 'Y' up the hill of ladders

One shoe fell on the gravel
One stick poked down
Gray of age fell down on a pair of ears
An eagle shined through my hole watch pocket

A gingham girl, baby girl
Passed me by in tears
A jack rabbit raised his folded ears
A beautiful sagebrush, jack rabbit

And an oriole sang like an orange
His breast full a worms
And his tail clawed the evenin' like a hammer
His wings took the air like a bomber

And my rain can caught me a cup a water
When I got into town
Odd jobs mam, ah, yer horse, I'll fodder
I'm the round house man

I once was yer father
A little up the road a wooden
Candy stripe barber pole
And above it read a sign, 'Painless Parker'

Lic, licorice twisted around under a fly
And a youngster cocked her eye
God before me if I'm not crazy
Is my daughter

Come little one with yer little dimpled fingers
Gimme one and I'll buy you a cherry phosphate
Take you down t' the foamin' brine and water
And show you the wooden tits

On the Goddess with the pole out s'full sail
That tempted away yer peg legged father
I was shanghaied by a high hat beaver mustache man
And his pirate friend

I woke up in vomit and beer in a banana bin
And a soft lass with brown skin
Bore me seven babies with snappin' black eyes
And beautiful ebony skin

And here it is I'm with you my daughter
Thirty years away can make a seaman's eyes
A round house man's eyes flow out water
Salt water




.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:59, edited 3 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881394
Enjoy.

She's too much for my mirror
She almost make me lose it
The way she abuse it make me never wanna use it
Well, mend yer heart and mind yer soul

Ole Chicago, she's, uh, woman that-a
Make, uh, young man, uh, bum
She howl like the wind make me heart grow cold
Make me long for that little red fum

She makes things fly and she makes things roll
She got me way over here and I'm hungry and cold
I remember m' mother told me I oughta be choosy
That was way back when I thought she was m' friend
Now I find out she's, uh, floosey

I remember the butterflies and the sweet smell uh corn
And the bubbling fish in that lil' pond
Ooh, Lousey, ooh, Lousey, how I long for you, how I long for you?
She's too much for my mirror
That little floosey oh how I fear her, ooh, Lousey




.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:26, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881395
This is one of my favourites.

Straw wood claw rattlin' my jaw
I can't call it usin'
It's just sumthin' soothin'
Feather times, uh feather
Mornin' time to thaw

Hobo Chang Ba
Hobo Chang Ba

Standin' still is losin'
Feather times a feather
Mornin' time to thaw
Straw wood claw rattlin' my jaw

Hobo Chang Ba
Hobo Chang Ba
Hobo Chang Ba, oh
Hobo Chang Ba, oh

Stand to gain my ground
Lay to rest the law
The ocean is my mother
The freight train is my paw

Hobo Chang Ba
Hobo Chang Ba, oh
Hobo Chang Ba

The rails I ride are rustin'
The new sunrise I'm trustin'
The rails I ride are rustin'
The new sunrise I'm trustin'
Straw wood claw rattlin' my jaw

Hobo Chang Ba, ooh
Hobo Chang Ba
Hobo




.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:29, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881396
This is from the sixties as well.

When she wears her bolero
Then she begin to dance
All the pachucos start with holdin' hands

When she drives her Chevy
Sissy's don't dare to glance
Yellow jackets â€~n' red debbles
Buzzin' 'round her hair hive ho

She wears her past like a present
Takes her fancy in the past
Her sedan skims along the floorboard
Her two pipes hummin' carbon cum

Got her wheel out of a B-29 Bomber
Brodey knob amber
Spanish fringe â€~n' talcum tazzles
Forever amber

She looks like an old squaw Indian
She 99 she won't go down
Avocado green, alfalfa yellow
Adorn her to the ground

Tattoos â€~n tarnished utenzles
A snow white bag full o' tunes
Drives a cartune, drives a cartune around
Broma' seltzer blue umbrella
Keeps her up off the ground

Round red sombreros
Wrap her high tap horsey shoes
When she unfolds her umbrella
Pachucos got the blues

Her lovin' makes me so happy
If I smiled I'd crack my chin
Her eyes are so peaceful
Thinks it's heaven she been

Her skin is as smooth as the daisies
In the center where the sun shines in
Smiles as sweet as honey
Her teeth as clean as the combs where the bees go in

When she walks, flowers surround her
Let their nectar come in to the air around her
She loves her love sticks out like stars
Her lovin' sticks out like stars



.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:23, edited 6 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881398
Hope you appreciate this.

Lucid tenacles test 'n sleeved
'n joined 'n jointed jade pointed
Diamond back patterns
Neon meate dream of a octafish
Artifact on rose petals
'n flesh petals 'n pots
Fack 'n feast 'n tubes tubs bulbs
In jest incest injest injust in feast incest
'n specks 'n spreckled spreckled
Speckled speculation
Fedlocks waddlin' feast
Archaic faces frenzy
Ceramic fists artificial deceased
'n cists rancid buds burst
Dank drum 'n dung dust
Meate rose 'n hairs
meaty dream wet meate
Limp damp rows
Peeled 'n felt fields 'n belts
Impaled on 'n daeman
Mucus mules
Twat trot tra la tra la
Tra la tra la tra la
Whale bone fields 'n belts
Whale bone farmhouse
Cavorts girdled 'n latters uh lite
Cavorts girdled 'n latters uh lite
Uh dipped amidst
Squirmin' serum 'n semen 'n syrup 'n semen
'n serum
Stirrupped in syrup
Neon meate dream of a octafish




.
Last edited by anarchist23 on 21 Jan 2018 21:16, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
By anarchist23
#14881400
The six "poems" from above are the lyrics of some of the tracks from below.
This is uncommercial as fuck but is world renowned. Don Van Vliet is an artist, songwriter and musician.


#14882141
Totenpass: I am a son of Earth and starry sky. I am parched with thirst and am dying; but quickly grant me cold water from the Lake of Memory to drink.

Sweet is the Spirit's strain; thou the cup of death didst drain; when came in flesh the incarnate Word. Drest, my swift quill is entangled in a tranquil cradle! Tis a litany of liturgical lull-E-pods prancing around me sol herbst, dat fresh karpós gleaned from my philosophia. Nordic nous-nose sniff out stiff smut-snouts... Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell thee, vacuous judgement of a Paradigm pusher! Twinkle-twinkle-toes mingle mammals, addled cattle wit moronic-makeshift wish-whistles piss subterranean plight. Moniker murmur, walk-en balk-en fraum! For how can he dispel a spirits luna-nescent minstrel cycle, this waking-waxing corporeal crescent-crescendo!

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