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LeoNNeon "The Thetikomatheia"


Encyclopaedia Ignavus In Declinatio Nex

Vita Aevum In Decorus Nomen

This Booke dost here I submit
through and through; to my Love's dear evict.
The requisition of provenance do I it's proof expect-
to beatify an illness twas' I to this truth collect:
Xenia thomistica, ne iuvenis Novitus Ordinem.
Whilst is Actea in Quo Vadis sought to the younger keep
I herein fight the pangs of Death
Who's uncertainty my languish kept
and twas' my errantry lengthly sung to sleep:
And doth only Virgil's ashes cold* in abundance keep.
Encased this room my sorrow Is my hope
or unlike the De Hymenaeo et Talasio saith
"genium mortis factum esse censet"
lust that yet dost Wisdom into maketh hollow coal
for whence now my dull marrow is invoked
to call the things that
Life gave more then once I appraised to hold.
To my Health forever question
hypochondria; let of you all of history digest.
That of Death but to let of clever guesses,
canst do me not, but to this misery confess:
The Mind's superior disparity I know
that of Displeasure in my Pleasure I abide.
And whilst some do so carefully twine hope
I find only the illest measure of my Life.
For the more I hope to live I live to hope
and do so thereof admire the zephyr and the pike.
For my Life I fear, for tis' my life I so miserably love.
And concurrently reserving both the heights
of Human passion art not the each so pensively undone?
Tis' a strangest vision that I descry
that to feel Not but yet to be alive.
Tis the gravest wisdom that I apply
to only thoughts will keep my strife.
That to this world reason event yet do I aspire,
and cannot for tis' my thoughts I canst not elude.
My philosophies art Demons aroundest me shant occlude.
I try to appease them but of them now I forget and tire.
Towardest all I love They dost my hate direct
as Tanyoxarces to Susa, dost they obtain defect.
Who was murdered, the Ethiopian bow was by rent,
only for this Virtue of my thought am I spent.



I submit this work in dedication to Democritus Junior, who's life a tragedy was bourne, Sir Thomas Browne and that Greek poet, and also grammarian, Lycophron whom wrote as a show-piece for the School of Alexandria.

"I abhor all common things"- Callimachus

"The text no larger then the limbs of fleas;
And every square of text an awful charm,
Writ in a language that has long gone by.....
but the long sleepless nights of
my long life have made it easy to me."- Idylls of the King.
---------------------------------------
Immodicus Diligo Iter itineris

That creation natal
that dost yet Eternal fly,
canst not in His life but linger
wonting of the Early Sky.
And towards that electic and Planetary Stromateis
that untouched, unchanging waits,
that causeth Man intrigue in it's Aging gait,
His finger points those Stars
to of wonting hitherward bring them
downwards to Earth whereof He hurry, try:
For as Jerome saith "nutricem quae illi
secundas nuptias suadebat" that
to this wedding of Man with Heaven
dost MAN the world filleth with a Seed
the springeth upwards into burning night.
Tis' the faith of Philosophy
that of dost we learning write.
AND despite my aim to Heaven flee
I do not incite to the greater of the lesser be.
FOR, Tragoediae, instar canis,
the form of Dogs I do not languish
of All to be bourne who thought of language
but thankfully not who only of Love did findeth- AS
That time which spent in thinking kept
a satire on my Life as those afte'er drinking slept
for twas' a passion that which passion doeth
dost only passion passion proveth,
and passion kept only by passion gave,
Nosotros, la sonrisa lasciva,
that from which no one canst save.
That if from wont our Philosophy is bourne,
to from Heaven take the image of truthful formes,
the World that much more honest make,
thine pleaseth I to heed what admonish gave:
that if from wonting gave alwayes a passion be,
that which from sincerity no ration can decree,
Philosophy wonts that all other passions kind admire-
the passion to passion name and knowest-
or e'en to causeth like transpire.
For from nugacity my forme take improve,
and from vacation my forme take loose,
to my Desire make, that dost not at once arrest
but that rather dost wonts find deject and stake.
Philosophy is a passion that from nothing twas she came,
and from sequestration in her own management inveighed
for she from wont wonts of all wonts other-
Nugae "ils continuent neanmoins"
to know her wont her own, and from it's wont yet partake another.
And diagnose a law and that law transmute
to progress from itself and it's flaws improve WHILST Love laye silent:
forgotten art all things which lovely try save what canst in grief most suddenly find
Thou who dost inspireth e'en as the statue of Eutychides of Sicyon whence supplied
that incanous genius of my quiet breath, wheresoe'er thine every image is kept,
that oft-times hath charm'd allicient casements, thereof so opening, unto the mind
as those Philosophers in the Mouseion uponeth Synesius the bishop from Cyrene-
that thou mayst preventeth I from that misguided wont to living by the vision of theft
that I calleth the actus reus of stealing from thou to the amenities of my thoughts' place
in pathless and intemperate hope which lies that, of the Heavens where thou dost bathe,
couldest I of learn for Heaven is a politic intrigue which filleth up both penury and praise
and is likely not devised in Books for in them I am goodly well but to such lonely dayes
I submit myself to describe the wont over thee or not as Queen Jocasta and her youth
yet unlike Achilles over Troilus dost I seek withal my power of mind o'er your truth
as Corydon and Thyrsis, who in Virgil's eclogues were noted for the homely glade,
and Catienus Philotimus who cast himselfe into funerall fire being burnt in grief's haste
dost both in devotion and as the Wanderers of Publius Nigidius occupy my poem's place.
For it is as Irnerius of the Pianura Padana who was lucerna juris
that I speak to such clinical wonts, and do now see what Time hast from me taken.
O for I attended a youthful suit in those I now consider,
in such long careers, as lonesome slaves
who whence calling themselves Artists or Scientists
art so disposed to conceive thereof
a scholar that knows enough to profess to the World
the knowledges of the World's wayes-
e'en some reverential Sui generis certified to, uponeth
that altar of our Immortal Traits,
honoreth those judgments and candor wherewith God Almighty
advocated His most tortured race:
that his natural image, in Man so thereof begotten,
dost thereupon falter grace
the experient calculation unto which He entereth
Beauty into Time and Place
that he canst removeth Man from those beatific movements
of Life's natural state
unlike Eratosthenes of Cyrene who doth ascertaineth
the Earth by it's actual length
for in the Soul's immurements of the Soul,
which Philosophy we so dost calleth,
without the guide of love, there art a plenty of Men
who abide by this laughable faith.
What in antiquity God createth the poet oft dignifies
thereby that, in those times of Vanity or of Devotion,
uponeth the names by Us Beauty gained,
the soul hence revives.
For so long as was Scholar tamed and oft staved
from his Books and his wisdom bade,
so very cold and contrite,
whilst his Atlas gleaming with oceans
no longer teach or delight
whilst memories fond and, teaming with moments
that dost to his cause relinquish their blight,
Shall HE in their New Hope passey defeating that Sorceress
Named Science; who's thoughts dost take their seat in his mind.
Nor dost he fall into the somnolence of his chapters
as they art made of in the dreams of the hopeful
into which his kind is increased and enraptured
and into which he is seized by his master;
nor dost he long for those Teachers to veritably preach or incite-
For on His behalf God doth replete in such clarity,
in ways so neat and concise,
in that Philosophy of the Civil and Sound
and of all the lives opened
into the continent lovers that hath by devotion
alone hereof reigned nigh.
For by God's law one abides of unspoken,
for by that Will one decides as Alexander and Thalestris,
that dost He aim to his children raise to his better become.
For He desireth that Pride renewed in all Poets wholesome,
that is One God that hath never lied to It's chosen
and so dost advise in tenuous songs that I hast beholden:
which like a thousand Iliads art supplied words the most golden
and those sights into the law of all laws the oldest,
thereof supplies the call of all calls remotest,
that leadest to every Scholar whereof
it so hides and is frozen
that We mayst rectify that life they hath been by imposed in
for We art like Zipoetes of Nicomedia Who's land was adorned
by monuments and so moved by the Exegetical sense of Nature
as Cassiopeia, who presumed Herself in Beauty O'er the Nereids
and Nymphs, dost the knowledges of the world, of our prima facie rent
the genius loci of the World the World concede to lend
her most beautiful and life giving elements to our best of men
and by them art the elements of the World excised to testament.
For it will be known that every page of Philosophy that
betwixt this hand of mine doth rise is a curse against the mind:
and a brevity of transmigration from the intellect and it's wayes
which art tortuous and lamentable and mayst conceal one from his grace
as Aelius Aristides the Hypochondriac; that by his own virtue He is base.
Forlorn! The foil of Our afflicted conceit canst not
observe what Thou hath brought
in Heaven that is life's enthetic happiness
which mine sound thought oft hath caught
to so readily visit in those newly garnered investures
that twas, thereupon my hours,
oft given to that triumphant World that I
dost calleth Hope and that thou blessedth-
of hitherto wanting thee over the writing of:
for thou art by the race of Thalestris
hereof introduced unto I and from whence
such magnificent charity firstly made descent
into Human Ambition for young Pindar,
in thine own perficient motion, and vain sense,
that mayst thee lend such solifidian Poems as these of mine-
that art so beauteous like Cleanthes and his universal prayer
which, to Zeus, was drawn, to thou own honor I gave impart.
AND so as to enliven my good heart
but also so as to, however so gradually, inciteth I
towards the continence of those good parts,
which oft born to thou dost I hark for I, delighted nigh,
as Apollonius Tyaneus, in this ascetic hermitage,
hence recognize that for the Truth to thou I mayst embark.
Thou heard Wisdom in her choreutic and ecbolic tones
and captivated thy Soul shalt forever call that music Home.
And every time I fall in love I take a particle of her Beauty
with me, as Euryalus and Nisus, the ideal friends,
to my own Soul that I canst become a genus of that love
untaught- that I canst become an Angel of the above unsought.
Prey tell, that I, the collector of names, should ask
thou ordained captain of my faith- thou inservient
messenger, what canst thou be called truly save the Parthenian day
like Pausanias at Syene wherefore the sun dost no shadow cast?
That thine grace dost I testeth like Eris's incentive in her apple passed
or e'en in that cautious will of God whence it dost so passey exerted
so to cause to climb the inimitable purpose that the Fates do lay
and thereof inaugurated in the one latreutic body on the Earth
doth the anxious contest of finding and treating what love thou gave
so pervade the teaching of a philosopher hence to leave wonder averted
that thine true Wisdom and Grace canst be revealed unto mine Birth
of the Poems hence that I surrendereth unto thine beauty as thine deserves.
What Capo Ducato thou canst provide, which from the Sea dost elect to rise,
that hath been here welcomed, in the dust converted,
those Dead Men thereof that all, in the policy of thine to keep,
the shining vision of your empaestic want, dost findeth triumph to ever sleep
so that in Our death to the World thou wilst the World keep.
What awkward Gamut dost the dead man drive
to Opacity his Name covet instead of life?
For if to either our kindred genius falter must-
shouldest commoner we hold Faith such a smart of trust
as can from the Hearts of Men all thoughtless death thus keep?
For I knowest that all Religion to this aim thus leads;
To Man's looking to forget of Death always Who in His trust succeeds
at layeing Man's nameless Form to in the dust thus sleep
like Parthamaspates in Osroene who by his father was laid defeat
after His fill he's Had- for dost he not want our Name to forever keep?
It is in that light that I hath taken to My senses leave lame
as the Self in abnegation under Eucherius of Lyon in De laude Eremi-
to apparent Death, to victory, I steal, nolonger to his wonts complain.
Pardon me, with such a spoil of our Human history I hath forgotten-
what was it, what is it, what is Death's name?
For History is precisely how o'er me his Powers give
as the knowledge of his name I trade
for some of those with which our World is littered with
E'en though I do only know My name
and when I die it is not told by fame
but rather dost lend itself to all the others
of it's sort to grow or change or e'en to about goe estranged;
for togather the dead art some Hall of Mothers
that into thereafter dissolved a new method my Form employs-
and I cannot now suppose my mood
when I Men of Earth do care after all enthralled
and do extoll aloof as a Mother to her store of Joys
of raising children in Her equating lore
as Mother of Man I become, in History constrained
for those like I was in this Life to be by encouraged and amazed.
For the Only Sin from Hate is born,
that is called the contempt for death.
E'en though your name He takes
to measure the Extent of theft,
as he authenticates
in that constancy of motives base,
should you from his Haste afford
an equal one to make your Faith your lord
as o'er History in Who's Faith I hold
and Who's greatest Good I've known
of Death betwixt I forget to the World's Names
I make my home: and cleanse myself of His disease
for unlike Cersobleptes, the King of Odrysia,
tis' I myself who do enstate these decrees
of causing Death to withdraw my Life's balance release
that e'en though my Art depends
on the Names the worlds lost to my page attend
still tis' lye some ration that in this Book's encasement sleeps
of hoarded lore- Who's wonting talent dost laye Cruel Death appeased. 		070907
...
LeoNNeon For as Protesilaus who from Hades twas' bade to see
his wife Laodamia, dost I my sickness pay this vagary,
that with such Names of beauty I do fate recite
of Saints or Greeks- to my own Poetry's grace suffice:
as Nerses of Cilicia who is, by Grace, thereafter called.
O let this verse sincerity demand as by God affaired his Law-
so that Meaning to my life I give,
and into the tutelage of Names I thrive
(where goes this seemingly bedighted kid.)
Twas' crowned every key to the sky applied— of Stellae erraticae,
Pleiades, Hyads, those stars 1 which within The Soul dwelleth
so crudely sound, that, standing unto, thou might riseth to
Pity the world for whilst our dayes have seen:
The sun, 2 when first by him the world was turned to die,
in it's inscient currency, e'en whilst He treated us withal action sly
and of eyes that aspire to Heavens one couldest only dream-
but that one mayst write, or hope, or with grope, or of sing-
shall it passey thee should maketh the only thing compensatory known
Art! which with thine contest dost leave to us to Our admonished Home
that entailsest thou dost knowest to pity that obtrusive spring
within our lucent eyes that would Feed'st thine Soul
and poetry of vinous contempt and those services of lies
when should cometh the hallmark of that recursive beame,
hark, that to preventeth one's hopes of meeting wives it dreams.
That celebrity of Beings higher; 3 thou canst not tempt that
coming parhelic circle- 4 how in the still and shooting rayes,
of the Dietetical soul, loitering amidst the staid current of our sight
will thrive a deal of new earths, Orbes, and shooting rayes, of life:
which in manhood's strength will inundate to please thee -
Great sight 5, who had but thy inspiration given,
No matter through what danger sought I'll fathom hell
as Æneas and that bough 6, e'en with it's veridical lentitude,
which now through all the general show of this Taste,
has brought your body up beneath your presuming face
which now around me layes like Enna or Umbilicus Siciliæ 7:
or Proserpine's sacred grove that, as Cicero will point out,
was within a day's journey of the nearest point
on all of it's three coasts, like you, who's strange situation
leaves you yet commoner then most: and hence a landmark
amongst the penumbra of women like that queen Semiramis
who by doves was fed and oft thou bathe in thou vale
that is sororal and I in the variegated flesh of good hope.
Time, who art the expiscatory Lord of my Soul's thought,
how crude but curious thou doth grows't
and how truly brilliant it is when thee canst
unnerve the wide world and effused seasons
as thou whilst wander'st, to the back of me,
thou who causeth I to think myself some
luminary of the universe: for thou art the
caustic ether which surviveth Our cogent liqueur
that, in condign interest, whilst seem to
hang me in the fixtures of the most important
amongst the Napaeae which art whimsical.
Time, thou first created thing-
Time, preceding all, for it is in only you that
things art given precedence or newness-
you art the chief intoxicant, the strongest effect
is in your consumption of consumption itself.
The universe, being first inlaid with your drug,
leaves countless ages of insobriety for all things
under you are forced to take you and to you become addicted.
For you I, this glutton, be: to devour the tears
That fill’d the world's due, and by Time's disease,
Who's tender countenance, of him makest a legislator
of sorts, o' er which a government was made
which did roundeth nations out of thoughtful glades.
That is to linger in the thought of Poetical truth-
which curses Leo of Isauria 8 and the books of the Sun
of science 9, and aims to reveal the world's freshest ornament
and to eat the riper [8] should, whilst he bathe at sea,
thereby that only herald to the world's due-
and knowing withal modest kingship of thyself thy own,
to thine own vernation surrendereth thy sweet self too
Lest once more wandering from thee that I live- for it
is more than willingly that I livest for your gift: for more
than willingly I would neglect with my eyes, that wishing,
hath been fixed to staring upon an object to concise
that to be the object of my wish it would have done you so.
I, in my pelorian and syndetic state, out of well-tuned sounds,
by unions carried, do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the enatic stars- do I consider every thing that thou receiv'st
And, having climbed that true concord of your huge theater,
presenteth nought but an itinerant service in your effulgence of ignes fatui.
For what, if I die, would'st thou love me not even that what
hath I yet obtain, I could give: which should be termed desire;
and almost like the only sweets of our Earthly revenue.
To thy safe bosom I live, for more of the wandering
of my everlasting stress. I could once obtain, but I would give:
Which should sufficiently be full complete and nothing
wanting but the art of love- a sap checked with Eclipses of
my memory as it came to pass collected in your Septentrion.
After Death- that is the death of love- left nothing is,
and from the laic divide, shouldest the wise Inquireth
or come to figuring how to devise? When a spoil of books
shall besiege thy self alone, thou of her prime: thou mightest
get a sum of my old excuse proving your incidental expenses yet,
Attending on my own new-appearing sight and still
Serving with thy self dost thou spend upon thy time thy own
which is aureous to only you. She, I suppose, was such
another who found no substitute for emphasis; vacant of
celations, her Pacific bust gives promise of the skin's excellence.
But philosophy is known to draweth up the weak,
in her engraft, and in her art they lulled to sleep;
like those Bees who frometh Sephalica dost migrateth deep.
Search, into the social thought of, while thou wilst
of Reason, for that line which nature twists be known.
That thou art, by all the World's devils, inclined to learning in
this sum of nature's motions that I canst never die
and, reading them like the celestial shield of Nonnos 10,
or the veil that Josephus talked on 11 which with the
constellations of Heaven was decorated
or even that ovoid stone bearing an inscription for Sargon I
in dedication to the temple of Sippara 12, that it would
come to passey that reflections unto you were sought
Till death abrupts them, and that instructive light,
Whose weary beams may on thy works to read,
That learning them in thee I shall havest my life.
I may on thy Maker's will; for unto reason go,
To ransom truth, e'en to read, that I might award
reason My great, sacred, oath: revealing Devils in
the sacred plan and professing in the the synectic smile,
thereby unto the Philosopher's rights that I would defile,
or that I shall drive, backed with the spoils of nature,
to stoop again below those Penates of the less divine 13,
Who's cernuous roses, for unto reason flow, to ransom
truth, e'en to replete the proof, of Love's sometimes being
but the grace which fascinates that to each other tie.
God, 'Then, by your favour, anything that's writ
Against this with unwonted thought as when homeward
I despise: this charity supernatural, with it's own
erotic tribe- whose talents lie in pride and vanities,
and when come to be enjoyed tear apart our World
whilst the wretched man or a churchman who thinks,
like sort, his actions in their fellow slaves to soar aloft,
Will call the hand of Arts to tame them in entertainment?
From my human heart, worthy of forgiveness,
With one impulse propels that bard
Who's famous with such authority,
Who's famous with eternity alone:
Not unlike Lel and Po-Lel 14 who, chasing each other,
do cause to being precipitated the aestival spirit.
Masters, I propose to be the mind, when sixty years
completed be, can from his shell, painting with a scholar
vain who is it for recompense, to behold a world that
already slumberest deep that I may succeedeth
to make my own circle of Vico 15 ; all for one hero
who but knew his own receipt and made a
lambent sunbeam in succinct lies he designed to tell
which would seek to illicit in his animal's life profiting
and causeth the world no longer to it's rest in peace.
I hate the bee whose sting is called enjoyment: [ie. orgasm]
Ah, happy, happy love! Thou art the most timid Silenus.
For ever bid the infinite movement of youth before my sight
where wasteful Time debateth there with only dicacity
and will, in benignant form, doth tease us out of each other's
woes so that love's familiar and intrinsical parts and all their
style I'll read and in His greatest power hide, stealing unseen
that I may outlive my love engrafted hence to this separation
with one I hath supposeth died; and there reigns Love,
and a ransom of all triumphant splendour unto thee-
so let him here who doth hence remain to see me
and calleth himself in the name of Reason's pride-
That Earth, Sea, and Air- supplied- should keepeth me
in this dapatical monument of the morning's eye alive!
EVEN as the shadow makes me first I burn, with
such true-love, in such a common one, In shape,
in sight: It is in you that I have come from this thrall,
hitherto in some remote corner of your tissues, all.
And for my sake, whilst thou lay on me alone,
Take all my sake to model races newer.
Thou shalt remaineth, in the midst of conticent nobility,
Eclectic and oscinian musician, unwearied in your exemplary labor,
as Numa Pompilius 16 who, in the name of Vesta,
erected that temple thereof where the sacred fire burns
for I, myself, hath consigned to createth one of yours-
thereby that thou shalt commandeth, as Philopoemen's urn 17,
The threshold of Earth's beauty as the convict of your form:
Under thee it is as though I am like Servilianus at Cephisia
and that all of the soft promenades and those tunes of birds
of country wherein for culture he sought fall unto me for means
to protection and not like Xeniades of Corinth, over his slave,
am I surprised as it happens life couldest not goals another have.
A little town you are, shaped thereby heroic deities,
and of a Botany so splendidly wrought. But reason dost tease
us out of youth before this sight; and thou depriveth me of
partaking samples in a garden who's plants drawest breath
up in your only human passion which canst grant them life.
Our Earth mothered Man, and thee did mother Her;
Thou who couldest write the stars in numbers fresh for I.
Philosophy! My ineptitude of thinking shall not persuade me
that I, the blind, do clearly see of you who art but a thought
which in this breast of mine doth cover me: or at least my Soul,
that which in thee time's furrows, is so old.
In you man faced the problems of his life and climb, said then his rage,
His swift pursuer from Hope to immund Idols:
and hence name them Reason, Truth, and Scope
for Eternal Justice was layed vanquisht after these appear'd.
But philosophy herself, oer' which these pretensions fall,
is far more kind and the kindest still, of man's expenses all,
who is not the distant seraph rowling in Heaven that sat on
thrones which, oft reassembling our convincible Powers,
Consulted how the fervent Clime smote on the Nations round
For those that, being males, were caused to listen and to bound
and to sacrifice their eminence to this forlorn Patron of the proud;
who's method causes one to think himself, like a young Artist,
a member of some sacred Kind, though with more efficacious
and more intently present mind, for Philosophy, that masculine
practice, being named but only the pursuit of knowledge is
thereby apt to becoming a vehicle for poetic thought.
DESTINY WHO ART THOU, HUMAN LOVE'S OWN BODY,
THAT, INSPIRING ALL CONJUGATION, IS THE FINAL MUSE
That you are fair or wise and forever good;
That if one thing is vain
Or strong, or generous,
You must add those tyrants to your sword.
The sap of Art, procured in gentle work, dost stain
The lovely gaze where to me thou repliest,
Or rememberd where every eye was born
To make the fashions of perpetual sight my license:
Beauty is a nativity in You, O like Epimenides 19,
And to all your untaught strain- for Beauty is Success
and in success thou dost campaign- for ever will the
lovers new, by you, pronounce their independent Muse.
I would livest yet an Ecbatana 1 hence knowing where,
unto the Pinax of Cebe, 2 wouldest that epornitic issue of
Thales 3 collect to supporteth mine soul to traveling and
treasure like from the way my pen couldest move to thee
so in that natation of the Heavens couldest I yet ever leave
that can be lived by I within them such nescient worlds.
AND into which the Enneads of Plotinus, 4 as it were
that they shouldest about one groweth, were like pale angels
which in imitativeness doth try to explain the way you work;
who art a mother to me like The Suidas 5 or the
Theatrum of Ortelius 6 or even those lands of
Sidon, 7 into which Jesus and Herod 8 passeyd,
or the Origines of Cato 9 which of the cities of Italy
would tell or even shouldest you be
like that Tower of Persia, 10 mentioned in the works of
Procopius of Caesarea, wherein one was buried live.
What of God's design which is deictic 11 that, in supinity,
should have it that those measures of your youth
should causeth me, in mine, a learner of Palaemon? 12
The erroneousness of the part that is my greatest calls; that
in God's edict I had only, by the face incanous, 13
came so as to chance unto contention that surviveth without name.
I saith; that if God, of want, should uniteth the
Men of Earth unto his Heaven then why art those men so
disposed towards these feelings which, unaccompanied,
do so readily evoke a feeling of divine consummation?
For when merely the thought of you, which I calleth my own
Statua of Janus, 14 causes to issue Salmacis 15
and, like that redolence of Nilica, 16 which doth causeth
to being lulled entire throngs of Indian Bees, 17 dost seduce me;
no longer mightest it be of my own fault that an atheist I am.
So, to I it seemeth, whom is that Ephebus, 18
of considering and the trumpeter of allusions vein;
that only by that negligible admonition which hath long-
sense, unto mine mother, escaped from memory
and from inundations grows whereof the Albino Star
does liveth with such a needfulness aside that novity
which is idle- idle always- and confideth I in simply a body which
is nascent and henceforth but a partial erudition of your laws:
does the pensive world judge me -
after which an Amazon I read or as Strabo upon Cerne of the East
I fled and did my poems sing as if they the story of Numa and Egeria 19
if I was another unto which the Italian goddess climbed
or like Pausanias and the Xoanon 19 being thus discovered
for I hath readeth yet those Protreptics of Iamblichus 20 yet
it is come to Eat the Brain 21, that I here pronounce: Ecce Signum, 22
that I am like the root of Iberia 23 whence to try your navigations.
That when the Daughter of Heaven, 24 on that Sicilian Plan,
raiseth the Fig, 25 or like The Saturae of Ennius 26 infuseth our land,
hark that Enipeus 27 of the Peneios 28 couldest not allow
and neither would the Erembi 29 on who's shores mariners scowl.
Neither will this Earth avail, at last,
because it is to small; and too small for I
withal sixteen years who did swallow Greece
and who is, before this canescent 30 Earth,
nothing but a fossil wandering; some exotic species
that the Earth couldest not yet release
unlike Sertorius of Nursia who was assasinated
at Perpenna Vento's feast
for I am adorned with my verses as Podocaterus of Cypria
and his clothes of iron filamentary that he procured in Venice.
Time, being he whom is the most illiberal and
consecrated of the sons of Discrimination, saith
withal heart like Pallenia: 31 on these subjects which
seem to pleaseth mine ears with efficacious song
as in Planctus Cygni whereof for the Sun the Swan does long.
For if a man is but that which he knowest of or if
he is his philosophy, then it should be quite idoneous
to find that I knowest of a substance far more
ancient then the blood of men and thereof I am antiquated
as the river Inopus 32 that has a connexion with the Nile
to find the poet begging, unlike Theon the Scholar,
for he was hence appointed to the Alexandrian Library last,
if all the world I could see was a world no higher then men
canst dream. In that line oft which Cardano of Pavia 33
enojyeth to making I find myself of wont to herein imitating
as I know the final line of Ars magna which oft we are abating
with concerns this Heaven's writ I hath felt such need to making
that only once dost it be written that thou canst defend the ancients.
I did sing for thee; Greece, Phoenecia, the Mount of Cyllene 34
and also an opulence of epithet which, in columns, hath thrived.
Knowing with certitude that my mind shouldest give
I stove with only a greater celerity towards that
which is arborescent, which is where my mind couldest end.
Ever still: I findeth difficulties in the absconding
from these knowledges as I do requireth of a greater element
then that of your prognostication and idealizing for,
as of yet, I've yet to sow in your name as many
worlds as Anaxarchus hath concieveth 35
nor have I produceth like the Corinthian 36 sort
that is feminine; which containeth your oscitant novity
and that you and civilization art synoecious 37
and that you succeedeth like Armenia; 38
and wherefore I couldest yet advise in the scholar nor
venerate like a poet: for you art like the vines of Jerusalem 39
and you shouldest be called that gem of history
who's Heaven couldest revealeth itself unto the philosopher
with those comforts of which only poetry couldest provideth;
and that detail wherewith these epithets and sciences renewest.
Whensoever the seal of Parturition 40 doth confide
in me that Cydonian 41 bough- of apples golden-
couldest I, some most inconsiderable one, infected by
those Pierides 42 whom is as Eson that collected dye- 43
presume diligently, with rectitude, in one contracted notion
which by my capital attests to those lines
which hitherto should follow:
Twas' right I, by the votaries 44, recline that I:
may sip sweet the ideas of their faith in rhyme
which seemingly from the river of Lydian gold 45 dost flow
and which like Tarquinius of Etruria 46 dost seethe insouciant
or e'en like some Thebian princess 47 doth never letting go;
that I could raiseth mine kingdom in her midst
or unlike those Argonauts whom to Colchis sailed 48
forever absent mine Tyrrhenian house 49 in bliss
from whence some Temple of Thessaly 50 was detailed-
flying the river Euleus 51 which divideth the city Susiana from
Elymais 52 and, cultured from the Garden of Alcinous 53, I speaketh
Geoponica 54 as I should find my way as noble Cyrus did; 55
wouldest thou contracteth the Enneads 56 that I lived in peace
with Dietetical conservations, had my soul dance never cease;
hath I never disregard to take of Phaedrian lake 57 or by Piraeus 58 sail.
As it was that they 59 had set their eyes on that with
which they longed to kiss; as I must navigate that Emathian shore 60
from whence now only the shadow of that love I tell implores
inasmuch as auletic 61 songs, which of the Pierian cord, are licensed
with only those eclectic minds with value as the silk of Tyre 62
or it is like the avian thought which invigorates my night
causing me to towardeth it's Elitist tune climbing go:
and happens to provideth that most Cyllenian 63 invention
which causeth in my mind a beauty that is Ephestian 64 only;
for, inasmuch as I have knowledge over those spheres of
unusual word, and uncommon myth and name I riseth higher
yet then either Euphorion or Lycophron hath commiteth
as that is my own nature and the nature of my game
and I am now like that muse of Euboia myself
whom also commandeth the Nemian flute.
But ever- still, the luxury of poetry succeedeth in a women;
and leaves and words are always lesser then that.
As it was, whilst in my mother's midst,
with that Galatean doll from whence I made
a kingdom stalwart- and produced my rarified fluid
was I to reap the fortune that my Muse was payed
by henceforth acknowledging that which God infuseth;
thereby inheriting those sovereignties of my own facade. AND
Twas' tamest wild, by that Avian Cord, and the Ichneumon's qualm, (1)
when muse contained, by orient shell and inocciduous balm, (2)
hence had inclineth by it's thural Strain; Typhon and Ecnephia
whence above great Paropamisadae did I soar as Alexander
and withheld the Cataonian plain like twigs of cedar. (3, 3b)
As fragrant waters curdled rain, hitherto becometh grander,
that Syconia, which are the fruits of the Fig, perchance could live
longside those loaves and opsonium by which man was nourished
and which, like the Phoenician trade, doth requireth a league
so as to, in dehiscence, and in their own times be cultivated;
that in the forest it is this tree that provideth everlasting frutage. 		070907
...
LeoNNeon I feel as the wind egg which is dietetical and so contained the principle of life as the unbounded embryo and was called the Ova Zephyria in those Embryological Treatises of Girolamo Fabrici of Aquapendente and in the Nouveau dictionnaire étymologique of Pierre Neyron and in some of Pliny's work, so as I have read, and the feeling is, perchance, how that most celestially inspired Epimenides, who was but a guest to the Pierides,(2) might have, it so being that I am awakened hence to the Cyllenian garden as a more original Hermes, of the likes of commerce and language, to endure that sweet sufferance of a certain Phocensian truth,(a) of so having to accept one thing in desperation over another, into this case, being God and Man, and hath so been dignified in my choice that I canst be like Epaminondas the Theban who was the first Greek, as Cicero saith of him, and that I am imparted hitherto by my most aureous sancta in ever- carpous Syconia(1) that I may so humbly submit my appraisal upon that plan by which the inundation of the auctorial day is causeth whilst enjoying some stretch of reclination beneath the Fig, or of the vines of Jerusalem, or of Philosophy, whilst reading The Alexiad of Anna or the Odes of Pindar or studying uponeth the life of Numa Pompilius, the second of Rome's kings, when cometh that most Parthenian day, that at once these many advenient feelings are become to navigate with any effectiveness the survey, charter, and consensus wherein all the several volumes of the parturient nature of this world are subjected to name, them being most especially entertained as castrensial spirits or lucida sidera, I might finally have found a remedial comparison by which I could have disposed myself to presumptuous thoughts upon in order that I might have pardoned myself from being in want of loving kindness as in the Planctus Cygni- and incidentally, being regarded by appellations or the understanding of my own character which is pusillanimous; which is destitute, which I am already aware of. Many men, whom are so disposed to the reckoning of some generation of precocious intellectuals believe to have ascertained with such effectivity a certain reconnaissance of all the degree of nature( figuring that of self and that otherwise) in the schools of philosophy- but from that point of view from which my most humble allodium is entreated to be stationed I find myself so inclined as to consider like Juvenal in his words "panem et circenses" and in the docility of adventitious reason, some index of those philosophical works which truly explain satisfaction by what I am and what I would esteem my fellow to be of what character by which all the plan of acharnement is eluded. And it is that I am at last unknown and apopemptic to such Esculapian works. I know of only my own Paean and aegis that are, in their humble routines, so different then was Epiphanius in the Panarion which sought to rectify several heresies or the great wrestler Antaeos inclineth to, in my thoughts which are as aetherial- as the Esir that situate on the those most heavenly hills that bear intercessor to all that is the rainbow, groweth outside of the Earth not withstanding those wants to induce my friends to my own problems and exuberances. I would say nothing so as to includeth myself amongst those who art moved by that same wit with which wise Edipus the King of Thebes bested the Sphinx but it is that I might riseth only so high in the halitus that I am acclaimed title and that I navigate only that which is the spirit of poetry and occupy myself with only the commonition of my inner circles by which is entertained, like the cave of the most esteemed oracle Trophonios in being set upon such exclusive plan, the magnum self- and that in this pursuit I am inclineth towards only my own immediacy. But that symbol, being two circles touching, by which we hath appointed to designate the infinite order might have discovered a various reproduction in the eyes, which in their faculty of sight represent all that is, and which might also be two circles that exhibit osculation. And it is that the lemniscate is the eyes by which the universe penetrates us to infer that the Person hath possessed it all.

Must a man, as Agesilaus the Spartan, doth saith to Pharnabazus, [1] who, from Theodor Noldeke, we learn is a descendant of Otanes, so cometh as to look upon the Philosopher with envy, thus raising prejudice and enmity with only himself, and his own want, thus so levigating the philosopher from those duties with which his concerns in life hath made evident to him, of exonerating the common folk of their stations in predeliction, or, as Juba and Petreius, [2] must he so behaveth for those inordinate relationships between which He and Men hath so been affixed to honor thereof art sympathized within the Philosopher that it may passey so that we philosophers art hereof no longer kept in need of evidence that we mayst respecteth the Man who, in at least this thought, is beset for ennoblement. Canst thou, withal considerative ends, take to discovering that in order for philosophy to be again made invaluable to the public or at least herein presented in the most orderly of ways it must be treated in the face of those profectitious or parental wonts about it and of that exposition to their desire. Firstly we shall find that as Man first became aware of himself religion was called into it's place of dignity: that man mayst prove a benefactor to it's currency, of the exchange of his time, with such years that art spent in in the grace of God and which art born out of the wont to amuletic memories as opposed to that which, provided in any of the more socially oriented pursuits, so as either romance or voyage goes, art kept by that wont to dapatical memories. Might man seek to, withal earnesty in his study, as to understand the nature of Religion for without it his entangled and naissant senses, whereby wholly original and yet ascertained by those commanding powers about them, as love and sense and afterthought, whereso'er they were firstly, in nature, increased in man, canst not manage that occupation of a Civil society. Before I take to the wedding of Philosophy and Religion mayst we first yet reach a conclusion as to the absolute nature of the will and thoughts of Man for all living things, by a prefferential congeneracy, were, by the Fire, which is the nuncious to the Sun and thereof to those safeties of higher living, rebuked, excluding man, for it was Man who was the only creature of the Earth who couldest move himself to feel any implicit relationship with that fire and so be interested by it, having some sense by which it could be revealed unto him attractively, with it's savageness of usance, which, perficiently, so imitated the way into which he was made to feel that as in the De Aeusilao "Nisi de Echepolo in Troianorum rebus commemorato cogitare velis" or Oxoniensia "serpens seipsum comedens" that as in The Eructavit "vel divina praeconia jaculantur" his laudations swiftly pluck, lift, and oppress the senses o'er themselves. Man did take the fire as one of his Parents and, approaching it with the carefullest of measure, thereof made it one. All intellectual expression is primeval in it's concinnity and homology which is the Fire: which canst be seen as a meatus to all those higher orders of the Universe and also that which so doth placates the initial settlements of Man and thereof the preamble to all philosophical understanding. Thus our commencement, as Gregory of Nyssa, 3 who born the philosophy of the Trinity unto the Christians, or as Ion of Chios who presented, in light of an inglorious victory to his poems, 4 a flask of Chian wine to the Athenian citizens, thereof must draweth up it's motivation in those reasons of partaking from the greatest or most expensive or so reach a settlement in the fixtures of Heaven which I call the being at peace with one's Parents and God for that is the true Heavenly state and, as the beauty whereby Phaedo of Elis was popularized, 5 henceforth mayst earn us a license of notoriety amongst those people that art about and it is not as in the classical Mother Goose or Chenodia: Homunculus et Puellula "Dic volo, dicve nolo" for we hath yet begun to speak our mind for as in the Sedulius Scottus "Quid dicam de Nerone, Egea et impiissimo Iuliano aliisque eorum in nequitia consimilibus?" that if one of the worser present be, of our philosophers, it is most certainly not the ones who hold this virtue, of respecting the parent, at least as a symbol of creation. We, in other words, must hereof treat philosophy as more then we do any practical institution, recognizing it as the firstly created of the Fire's products and as the seat of the Soul as it is that our comprehension of Fire associates us with Heavenly forces. As Eusebius Pamphili of Caesarea in his Chronicon, [6] which oft given to the pursuit of a universal history, was hence most diligently made of in reference by George Syncellus, 7 the seed of the soul, which is Philosophy, and in efflorescence doth open unto the appellative settlement of God, otherwise so called the laws and inner workings of nature, doth seemeth to behave so as to recapitulate the entire history of the universe by so revealing unto one those ageless principles upon which the totality of the universe's capableness and potential depend upon. We must also admit of God the same duality with which all of those known lineaments to the mind's thought hath assured us of that, in the guise of Man, art most uncontroversial for the Self is an opposing form of God to that one which is depicted in either philosophy or religion. But Religion was the only way into which man couldest enjoy that presence of the necessary Parent which he calleth God: the only way into which man canst resign himself to a state anywhere less then that one of the most kingly and venerable for, at least in the fixtures of his own mind's eye, man most certainly seemed to be. And so even Science would seek to dispose to man, in that position from whence all the other, even most necessary, portions of nature art disregarded and from whence, solitarily, the completeness of the nature of whatever particular thing Man is succeedeth to the class of experient philosophies; that common element to both Religion and Science- to put Man into what is called the state of Awe. Be man not unlike Eurytus and Echion, the sons of Hermes, [8] and mayst man hereof not keep to himself for he is the Son of a Messenger that so entereth unto the lands of God "via deserta et interclusa" 9 Athanase saint as in Patrologiae cursus completus or in Francis Bacon's Advancement of Learning for he must also know that only whence science canst trully call itself the provender to the centralic knowledge behind the accountability of Nature canst religion have wont of exceptance in our society. That day cannot and whilst never riseth as Science whilst, unlike Salonina over her husband Gallienus, 10 whence she seen him murdered before her, hath always forgotten the explanation to the manner into which it, itself, is so disposed to carrying out it's purpose. SO it cometh to passey, of yon following into mine Law, as the histories behind Osorius the Portugal, 11 that Philosophy too must accept this and go so far as to adopt those principles therein expressed as was done for the Novum Organum by Francis 12 for this doctrine, of the invalidity of those schools which we calleth fundamental, and thereof more importantly of Man's regards to his parents, whereof there art none to be found, that so engendereth the wont of God, is most aptly concerned by him for he is that only animal which unto the Earth hath been affixed which hath not become known to those various expectancies of adulthood AND whereof we should find a man so wholly possessed of something, in the contrivance of one possible wisdom, we shouldest remind him of those others for this too is a sign of that wont to youngness. The natural error of Man is the reduction of Truth to that pursuit which is unitary or, in other words, to the candidacy of merely one school of thought in succession with another one: as in the cycles that society is so disposed to taking with regards to their interests in either Religion, Science, Math, Art, or Philosophy. The natural disposition of man is one of anxiety for the constant necessity of his kind is the reinvention of the Parent as it is signified by God. There is no time Man doth will no longer long for the being embraced by his mother for he, as the God of the Wines, is so waiting unendingly for Semele [13] and one most easily could imagine those things like Poetry, Philosophy, and Science doth serving so well as ludic artifacts to that play, which we calleth learning, which likely canst not ever end for him as in the case of Plinius Secundus the Italian 14 who was such a man that was admired in his learning. Man cannot express his intellect in the absentia from his Parents and Gods and since those figures art not unchanging and so Pacifically wrought he must seek to identify with all the capable parents which art about him and he shan't no longer need them when the Il' Penseroso and L' Allegro by John Milton 15 doth no longer, of each other, dream: for in that greatness of man there is an eternal affectation for needing, from somewhere, instruction and sustenance; and so the words of Virgil, "Omnes caelicolas omnes supera alta tenetes" 16 canst be said only of the Parent and the Lover which, in all truthfulness, is only another type of Parent that, as Alexander Zabinas, 17 doth commiteth to burning the statue of Nike in her own victory. The constant struggle of human life is a divine inventory of the great number of care givers and intrigues about it and the devotion to such as Alcestis the daughter of Pelias 18 who so did loveth her husband. This ongoing need to take note of either his loves or parents, as it is that Man so hath elected to these positions ideas, people, and industries, seems to account for that reason that no man hath attaineth adulthood, for in the vastness of his benefactors Man is limited by way of being intimate with them and by way of ever really being cared after. However as Plautus of Sarsina 19 doth speaketh of the generosities of young men so we must concede that the human race is at least somewhat willing to make that sacrifice thereof required to amend their philosophy; of taking account, moreover the person their self, of that time which is spent with them...as it the best way to remember and to appreciate them and in order of upholding their well being and their satisfaction in your Epiclesis o'er them this will be realized in the more adult stages of philosophy. In those contemplations of this most originary exemplar in Man's nature man mast find a way to move beyond himself; into a state of adultness. In my mind Science, Philosophy, Art, and Religion are all necessities for Awe dost calleth itself as a necessity. To be in awe is to be inspired as was Eratosthenes of Cyrene in his Platonicus whereof Plato based his philosophies and who ascertained the Earth's circuit and being inspired also is to have recourse to the parent or to, in some way, be cared after. Our lover cares after us so that by means of surrogation we mayst yet relive our mothers even after they have died. This is a further, albeit miraculous, contribution to the infantile nature of Man. Thou shouldest find that the most offensive characteristic wherwith our Society today is so recalled is the Patriarchy; for it is the denial of all philosophical industries as that condemnation of the feminine spirit and of our Mother to a place anywhere more lowly then that one of the most sovereign, as was Odysseus who reigneth in Ithica, 20 for it is this feminine "sui generis" from whence all the artistic and intellectual genuses art deriveth. Mayst we care not to, unto mine account, so come to speaketh of the smells of the lamp as Demosthenes saith of Pytheas, [21] or of how Phocion the Good 22 saith of him, that such a source to Iberia, 23or new comer, shan't have need for such excursus, that we mayst at least consider, in a more genial mood, my hitherto following points: that we mayst read Philosophy as we did unto Sallust on Catiline, [24] that is, that we mayst yet so advise those particular ventures that it hath undertaken. The currently exalted sciences seem to have been so appositely delivered that, at no better a time, should they have been revealed to us; insofar as they should be of wont of complement, then alongside that time of the Male's expression to prominence. For as hunters and those who must, of the dietetic issue, concern ourselves, we must, in the manner of consequence, also make of in business with those faculties of reason, logic, and strategy- insofar as this holdeth truthfully it would seem to me that science, albeit one of Man's puissant instruments, likely must so account for an incidental expense to Man's hunter- like nature. Is it a coincidence that science, the science of medicine; and the arts and techniques of war, in relation to technology, hath such a fine station in the practices of War? But we should find the woman whom amongst those various platitudes of her vocation, so hath been designated to the gathering of the flowers, buds, and berries: and so, perhaps, it is in this way that the female hath been so affixed with such an Earthly, almost universal property in those depictions of the mother and Earth goddesses like Tellus and Gaea. As it goes that they did need to communicate, by means of details, those plant lives with which they had to work with, so as to avoid poisoning, and so had to provide comfort for their children, and instruction, in progressively more demanding circumstances, and so had to evoke all the means to do so, as emotional depth, musicality, and understanding; it happens that they were the foremost contributors to the development of languages. It doth only so passey into a few centuries of the life of our species whereof those traditions of women and men were firstly inflected unto one another, as can be withheld in the first agricultural settlements. For man and women, together therein living more hourly worlds and, sharing of the feminine idealism, thereof began to weave their disconcerted experiences of life together so as to initiate Philosophy. It canst be said that the feminine spirit hath been lodged within the heart of man so as to effect civility which is the expression of philosophy. Those incessable lineations of historical philosophy canst be ultimately traced to an adoption of several feminine virtues by the Males in immediate consequence of our leaving the nomadic life style behind. Philosophy works within man as to extend this feminine virtue. I, as Tycho in the De Stella Nova, 25 wherein he so noteth that celestial event which was unseen in his time, of the death of a star, and which, by Poe, was put to verse in the 'Al Aaraaf" 26 as that star which between Perdition and Paradise was placed, so hence came to experience a most originary coparceny to my own Kind, whom art the Philosophers, who art so passeyd unto the court of the eternal feminine for this inheritance, and, having discovered the nature of philosophy to be tropistic or originating from some wayes which art enthetic so also came to understand it's expression, which is Civility, which is the feminine influence given unto society, as an essential faculty to the healthy and pious intellect. We should findeth that beauty which so granteth unto the universe coherency in every women as we do in that painting of Al Aaraaf by Edmund Dulac 27 and so calleth her, whensoe'r she is permitteth to understanding in the many philosophies, whenso'er she is placed within the mind of Man who is, without her, most Pirenian and ananthous, a Society. This "Civility" is a parent to all of philosophical understanding, that is, all philosophy doth succeedeth from it's purpose. Civility, as a purely philosophical interest, is so manifested throughout the declension of human history in various wayes as in the queen of the Amazons who was called Thalestris and Alexander and their race of beautiful intellectuals and in Helen of Troy, 28 or in Alcestis who was made of in those works by Euripides to offer such a devotion to her husband, 29 the Queen Semiramis and King Ninus of Nineveh, [30] as it is that they, who art a wife and a husband so reincarnated, were married, doth so erecting a symbol of our returning unto the Godhead; or in Septimia Zenobia the queen of Palmyra and Simon of Gitta 31 who wrote the Great Pronouncement, or in that magnate of our heavenly lord's thought which was to createth the leagues of angels throughout Ennoia which is feminine; 32 or in the second of Rome's kings who was called Numa Pompilius and did establish his constitution of religious wisdom in light of the teaching of the nymph Egeria. 33 I doth believeth that my life so capitulates that method whereby this process is carried out, through a philosophical understanding of Civility, and that I am the most recently issued of God's incarnations because of this understanding. The Godhead, upon descending into the materials of reality, out of the need to Exeuresis or the discovery of himself, as that same wont is so reflected in the necessity of the mind to epitomize itself in the study of the mind, either in relation to God or in relation to natural laws, as we calleth Philosophy, so manifested herself in two ways to accomplish this through the lower Hierarchy of divine servants which we call Pleroma: first she acted through Nothingness and Agelessness and Silence to create Nous, Mind, or Law- that she could, within this, so createth Ennoia(Thought) and Apomimisi(Imitation) which on Earth were so personified in Humans and Males and Females. Ennoia reveals philosophical truths- essentialy glimpses of the primitial God's body as it is, as so put into detail in my book, that the women were the initiators of philosophical pursuit and the expression of such persuit which is Civility, by way of interaction with the Male. Apomimisi, because these truths on Earth are not Angelic and Immortal but represented in the flesh of Women and Feminine men, must act as a soterial exigency. He reinforces and reiterates; and so remembers universal truths that he mayst transmit them throughout society, he is personifed by the Man. In other words Philosophy builds God on Earth. But Philosophical truths are only remembered through the Masculine activities of study, rememberance, imitation, and reiteration whereas in Heaven these pursuits are not needed for all Philosophical truth is yet divided there and so is ageless and never forgotten. This erects a symbol of the Ova Zephyria of the Soul and of the impregnable nature of the Mind- for the mind, as the sensation of various philosophical and axiomatic truths, even from it's most immature stages, encapsulates the totality of Heavenly wisdoms. In this same non divided state of Being God was perfect, fully developed, but yet experienced and revealed to himself through any cycles of motivations. Human society, through the interplay of Males and Females: of Ennoia and Apomimisi, so encourages the unfolding of God into himself on Earth in a declension of history which is so epitomized in the knowledge of Philosophical truths that are retained by Humans and Human Culture. The Pistis Sophia is inaccurate as it portrays the feminine power as destructive whereof it is creative. The material world is not an imprisonment but rather it is an illumination of a God which, before the ordal of existence, was yet revealed even unto himself. The entire unfolding of creation and life can be looked at as a Mind opening unto itself; who's first purpose is to know itself. I feel as though the time is apt for me to add another respect to my account, into which women mayst be seen as progressively more lavish embodiments or directors of Society. Aspasia the mistress of Pericles [34] saith that the women, in the process of birth, so doth undergoes to imitateth the truer mother which is the Earth and this would be true if her offspring were not so precious and inevitable; were not solely responsible for the Society which happens to be the greatest most purpose of Man. Those progenies of the body of women doth entailest men who, in the meatus of feeling, art so entrusted by their mothers as to refine and protract the body of Philosophy. Moreover the sensation of Philosophy, that is the only felicity and happiness within, or that so doth governeth, the life of man, is more suitable for those inductions of consecration as it is that it is foremost noticed by man and, in that form of sound sense and judgment, foremost so includeth by Man in those donations to his society and so thereof is more important, in all politic sanctions, then Philosophy itself. The difference between a good philosophy and a brilliant philosophy; that one which rests between the predial wisdoms like husbandry and the ordinal writ of a scholar who, withal the respect of his piers, hath so commenced to found a more coherent order of the civil senses is restricted to only the paper for in those activities of life the casual, albeit expeditious, will of nature doth not lay claim to such prejudices as those that art subsumed within the intelligentsia for as the Lamia saith "olim a Leonte Phliasiorum tyranno quid hominis esset" or "Vultisne etiam de bove audire?" Therefor we shall find that in the perspicacity of God the humble and decent philosopher is more important then philosophy itself, Sylvius Piccolomini als Papst Pius II- Siccine Phinees aut Mathathias zelatus est legem domini? for as in the Eos "Amaryllidis, Tityri, Galateae nomina" that he giveth beauty it's many names, as in the Troilus Stadensis "per tintinabula tinnit"or "ipsi sit laus et gloria in omnia saecula" as in Werke. Whosoever would work a greater practice; of birthing a son, and raising him, and so instilling within him this motivator of society, of humble and good philosophical wisdom, simply though those natural lessons which hath been undertaken by mothers eternally must hereof be given unto the most austere reverence of all the creators: Philosophers, poets, and of Gods- for e'en god leaves yet one thing accomplished in his children which is the soundness that the nurtured mind whilst effect and that only a mother canst provideth for one. This civil philosophy is Mankind's foremost government and is capable and authentic. Because any man of sound sense, unto who couldest be given the name of philosopher, doth with equal grace as the scholar cometh so as to better society it canst be said that the mother, who so doth instill that sound sense and so doth createth the body of which to invest it in is the most miraculous creator and the most original fixture of society. Philosophy in the respect that it so doth engendereth this sound sense, which society is foremost sustained from, canst be said to be the most necessary and complete pursuit of man; again only insofar as it is this sound sense which Society, the greatest most activity of human being, so depends upon. Philosophy, in another respect, so becomes to be the only path to happiness in the life of Man and, as the Panarion by Epiphanius, 35 doth aim so as to provideth a list of those infirmities of our nature that we mayst correcteth them. Might we point out a few of the infirmities of philosophy's institute for voyage, as it goes, couldest be named the censor of life. She is not unlike that form taken by Eris in Hesiod's Theogony. [36] I do know that an infrequency of movement gave unto my thought certain affectations towards different routes in philosophical study for previously, in those days unto which I did not make of in speaking or society, as Severino "Inter omnes priscae auctoritatis viros" were my teachers, my mind would be so advised as to move itself all about and, in no wont of expectancy, was there so ever conserved unlike Nicias, a general of Athens, who was forced to surrendereth unto the Spartans or as in the Thelyphthora "initio magis vituperari potuit" or as in the Jllustris peregrinatio Ierosolimitana "omnia civitatis circumuallere occupatis portis" as Versalius saith "In quodam vero elephantiasi laborante". [37] I mean that those lineaments of my thought naturally assumed more or less pleasing forms that, at no point, where they ever so met with interruptions to their convection, and thereof were no longer so juvenilized as most men's were. To be anti social is truly to be the most social with one's self and one's own thoughts. In the midst of traveling I feel as though my mind is the most human; it is fast, and not gradual, and thereof is less pacific and less fit for that accompaniment of grander ideas. It is shortened; and those pursuits that one makes over those activities that have thereof been suggested to him and that by his fellow travelers have been deemed more suitable for his engagement, or that task of illiciting to detail those orchestrations wherewith the banal instruction about which every new place must be ascribed, that must be learned, seems to, in certain times, impede the ongoing constitution that each thought, wheresoever kept by the philosopher, is restricted to. Theoth's gift, 38 moreover, demands of the writer's mind a more intent concernement with it's internal parts for it would seem to exaggerate that lambent event of every thought and every detail of thought and thereof would seem to causeth to happening larger and longer thoughts. The philosopher is epitomized in the knowledge of the Forms because in his mind, as opposed to the more public mind, every idea is so advocated and sought after that it mayst attaineth a more mature realization of itself- every thought is so congealed and saved so that the philosopher's mind canst, howsoever gradually, be filled with the final expression of every idea with which it has been accustomed to dealing with. Writing is the best way to experience philosophical thought. The Public, Buddhistic, Religious, and e'en Scientific minds would either have the ultimate truth(and thereof the cessation of thought and philosophy) or the "consecutive concern" that is, as with the sciences, whensoe'r one idea is falsified or proved in order that another one may be so. Moder thought, in this light, would seek a limitation of itself. Philosophical ideas are often times neither falsifiable nor tentative and this is a reflection of their beauty and perfection. The way that a philosopher is so disposed to thinking, ever so casually and cautiously, is more akin to a meditation and the Heaven in the Christian Topography by Indicopleustes of Alexandria that he relateth the universe to a cube and to Mose's tabernacle and not to the Babylonian's conception of a spherical world which they came up with following the construction of the tower of Babel. 39 I suffer no personal distaste for the sciences or any other manner of thinking as Epiphanius of Salamis 40 doth, who was known for tracking down deviant teachings as it is that he attacked Origen the Alexandrian on a trip to Palestine, but rather, my concern for science is purely an officious one, that I mayst yet honor some respect for it in that at least it is an ornamental thing; like a dignifable vocabulary or an advancement in the knowledge of history it serves as Laertes for Ullyses 41 and as merely the accompaniment to wisdom and not as some fanciful stories of the veneration o'er an entire school as for Zanzalus of Phasilta for as Giulio Pontedera saith in the Scriptorvm "imbribus aut gelicidiis" that is, either knowledge is right for rain or as it goes in the Lychnos "pulmonem et thoracem, jejunus nouam ceruisiam bibe, lactucas comede in cena". I would suggest that the philosopher is characterized most aptly by his writing for only in writing, which congeals and lengthens thoughts in order that their details are more lavishly revealed to one, canst he solicit thereof the greatest most articles of his Philosophy. Writing, this inexcusable advent, demands of him a greater respect then either his fluency in discoursing by means of spontaneity or those inherent aptitudes with which he was firstly introduced to his own philosophical nature for without it that nature couldest yet be so fully explored by him. Those philosophers who, in the dialectical faith, so venerate speach over writing, as Cyril of Jerusalem dost venerate Theosebia the deaconess in his letter, 42 are most obviously in err as it is that the motivation of philosophy is the improvement of thought and not necessiarily that enthrallment or satisfaction of other intellectuals or philosophers as in Zosimus "et e Norico in Pannoniam copias abducturum" or as in the Prolegomena in Cirin "Inde agno venerata Jovis Stygialia sacra" for we certainly hast no need to honoreth, for a second time, the Philosopher, in speech, for his writing is more then enough, Nicetae Choniatae Historia "Eirenae Angelinae socer ibid". As was noted in the Life of Solon by Plutarch; 43 one philosopher doth confide in the popular tone- but I doth not for in writing the Soul comes to experience it's ponibility and, as the sons of the North wind, who are so called Zetas and Calais, 44 that doth carry a divine message to supporteth the world, so doth writing expresseth the riper most thoughts and philosophies. 		070907
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LeoNNeon That insistency for the universal axiom of Compensation to elect itself to repetition throughout the firmament of the nature which is erinous 1, or that one which supporteth the embryo of a being and a voyage as Nearchus who from India to Seleucia ad Eulaeum navigated [b], can be only prospected in light of those effectual degradations of all it's parts which are internal and systematic for if, amongst this diversity like the Saturae of Ennius 2 a humbling work of literature, one God or immortal spirit is permiteth to reign, as Eutychides of Sicyon in his statue of Tyche, then it should follow that the entirety of nature, in that Terra foliata 3 and wine of my paradox, should initially from this most incipient law of circularity wish to disentangle as it is that Nature avows it's testament to the deity of every living organism like Indicopleustes of Alexander who sailed to India and wrote that divine book the Christian Topography and thereby should wish to engender in it's own design a greater enmity with it's self and also a working against those revolutions of the axis of philosophy. How wouldest nature stand representative of us all and as a supreme legislator permitting us all, as Anchiale and Tarsus 4 that were two cities in one day built by the last Babylonian king who was Sardanapalus, our own genus of the flame that is illecebrous if it is that at each one of these Olympian beings that it has thereby created it should also perform, in a consecutive routine, those means to stifling it's conviction over the protection and enforcement of that, at a time, ecumenical law that aquireth in it's creations a sense of being sacred? How can life demand the sacrifice of it's parts to improve the whole if it is each of those parts that represent the whole and that, insofar as we have beheld in philosophy, are those objects of life's dedication? This is the Soul's justification for madness and is most definitely a piece of interesting knolwedge from which good philosophers mayst dispose themselves to that they mightest findeth sustenance for the Philosopher is like Archimedes and the ship at Syracuse 5 and he is, around the circle, enlarged and immortal yet, withal duplicity, at every corner of the Earth that conformity to his own smallness permiteth him no higher consultation in the motions of stars. Rather the law of circles is a law of referrals which, in those affinities of it's own nature, that are like those birds of the procellarian class 6, which should be of wont to visiting in the occurrence of a storm, shouldest be called an exigency of a sort that is either called binary or dualistic- it is an elegant being who embraces this nature and, withstanding the preparedness of this fundament, comes to realize that natural unfolding whereof it so lucidly makes of the universal laws. The universe, as Juba and Petreius, will fumble and fall over itself in order that it can fight for us all and preserve our lives, disregarding it's own integrity, like the Poet who doth impresseth so much so over his newest most writing that he would commiteth not to the revision of it. For the selection which governs our continuance, though natural, requireth of it's own Parturition 7, which it seeketh to uphold, a vast infirmity. This paradox commandeth, insofar as Nature would be conceived, two spheres: the noetic sphere of human philosophy and ethics and, considering that property of life in the physical sense, those laws of natural selection and Darwinian evolution. I would call the natural world to be not unlike the seven sleeping boyes of Ephesus 8 who, upon being impelled by the Pagans, merely fell into somnolence for a length of decades for, upon expending these vexations, it seemeth to me that those first words of Ovid Naso's Metamorphoses 9 art true, only inasmuch that novity should appeareth to the mind within the mind itself and within nature is simply verisimilitudinous and not wholly real- that novelty and fallal themselves are the only endemic context for the human mind and thereof art expresseth with such a solicitous way in every event of the mind which is it's own Enuma Elis of Nineveh 10. The love of originary things would seem to improliferate the system of nature with a new order of passion that would want to obeyeth faculties of sense who's objects of taste do not exist. This is why the context of origination is a property and a law of the human mind itself and evidence that the mind occupies some place that is especial. That verity of the World would discloseth to us an Ephemeris or table of the stars 11 that, unto the totality of specious knowledge, shouldest we findeth, as the Geoponica of Greek literature 12 or the Theatrum of Ortelius 13, the native origin unto where a faith that is most admirable should permitteth to growth, not unlike that epornitic dystocia 14 of the human spirit that is an enate, a way of living that is most eclectic and various. Never minding that a fact, being either real or imaginary and synectic, is open to the tribunal of this new philosophy which is sidereal, we shouldest hope to find within it still that genesis which is our own and is a defense of appearances. Art we not beings of esperance? Who, even inasmuch as we have philosophy, cannot addresseth a world of facts? We would read Ludwig's book and ask ourselves how in the disposition for facts to, in the complacency of their own setting, be either truthful or imaginary couldest we hope to found a philosophy in a logical or linguistic way being that these departments of our own human sentiment truly do not commandeth any fixtures within Nature? It would be not only honest but also true to saith that man is a microcosm but only inasmuch as we are each a being who, in the exemplar of non facts, chooses to live. That exemplary kingdom of plantae, as The old English Elene, Phoenix, and Physiologus 15 which of a great commentary uponeth the virtuousness of animals did speak, would seem to, in the manner of the Etruscans at the hills of Siena 16 , be inundated that a variety of languages couldest have, subsumed amongst the world, be devideth above the Eurus or easter wind that is the soul of the world and even that diadem upon which such items as the Thea viridis 17 and the Hemp plant were to be foundeth just newly growing that they mayst circulateth, as the halitus or aspiration, about that world. Mighteth, not unlike that goodness of medicine as under Sennertus 18, our own judgments of the earth riseth so high so as to respecteth the law of Plants which is the law of being one's own mother- that we, in our own design which is a simian one, hath at some time been with the plants in utero 19. Hath the Pagan Soul been finally deadened that we couldest not commend to the necessity of a Goddess due to the necessity of our own maternal interpretations of a creator and creation- that it was, insofar as those races which art antecedent art concerned, a dependency upon plants which causeth the knowledge of an Earthly goddess. If the Plant is her own mother then we, as her child, must take up to leaving those amenities of her safety and providence at an early age. Man is, in every instance of himself, an enate who, so hopelessly, coheres to those things which causeth him remembrance of the Mother and in his most inceptive seminality it would seem that all those provenders of either passion, experience, sustenance, or knowledge wouldest taketh up being called a Mother by him. It would do well so as to understand that there is but a single Mother and from her their shouldest be issued the biological mother, the philosophy which is a mother, the plantae which is a mother of a culture, and also the object of one's romance which is a type of mother, etc and shouldest never die. The constant priority of Man is to divulge his senses to that fullness with which his own mother is inculcated that she mightest exact the idlest filament of God's creation. This binary system, of Man and Woman, would seemeth to deposit those laws having already been discoursed within a yet more recessive compartment of philosophy for we couldest be like the royal families of Crete 20 that, having no walls about our fortress, wouldest be advised in the consultations of nature more easily as it is that the world, in the lense of Man, seemeth to hold within itself a various, maternal attribute. The nature of binary existence is clean and pure, refined even, and possesses within itself the inability to disappoint those beings within it which have embraced it and I believeth it to be existent behind and around every circularity because that is illusory. There is certainly a magnificence about man, a certain ornament the way about which he passeyd, as Pherecydes of Leros, who was uncritical of the mythologies upon which we worked, that the entire spectra, indeed, the entire Eurus of his self-knowledge that he would, in those graduations of his oddment that, whence cometh the perversity of his body, so revealeth himself to have been concieved to harbor that, insofar as his Mother, which was the kingdom of the Earth and not of philosophy doth concerneth us, he hath been divorceth of, and that is why, contrary to those opinions of the pious or of the scholarly, the practice of the Soul or of philosophy is not a service of the providential canaliculus 21, but rather a getting back at the former benignancy whereof Man did commandeth in his Soul which is now provectus aetate and of wont to being cleaned up and, being such, the only path accepting to him which is a philosophy that shouldest bring to light that Acanthus of Man 22 being spoken about initially- that magnificent soul which is the diadem or the crown upon which the independence, the indifference, to the laws of the world art kept that, withal unfamiliarity, shouldest be engendered to residing, however incementaly revealed to us, in the principle of society. There would be, insofar as the reader should be inclineth to imagining of that speciality or ferment of a peoples; which are the poets and, withal my own conception, those who art the historians, a certain conduit of study which would seem to establish a role that is very significant, now unto where I should be directly speaking about the case of the historians, in that involvement of one with the process of self- actualization and the transformative properties of liberalities and his fruition into the entireness of his human being that within that particular study of history one seems to cause to being thought about his relationship being shared with those peoples of antiquity and thereby his own station within the saecula and otherwise what he would consider to be his purpose or at least his understanding of it. This would not excludeth, as the Etymologiae of Isidore 23 or the Pindarian odes 24, that community whereof the history of words is made of. Every generation of Men would cometh to being an aorta of the human spirit. My maxim is that History IS humanity.

Bacon, whereby we should inviteth ourselves to that veracity of his generalization upon the nature of philosophy; that he saith of this philosophy that but a saccule 1 - that but a more inexpedient and thereby nascent happenstance of it's infirmity shouldest cause to atheism it's student, but that a more cautelous involvement shouldest thereby return that student to those conservations of religion which are dietetical, shouldest cause to the mind, like the botanical of the Persian, or Ahasuerus or Xerxes whom entertained his princes by an open garden or that planter Cyrus who was most copacetic, who's plantation upon Sardis was made of in the account of Xenophon of Erchia, a most enduring philosophy. For let us consider of the philosopher, thereby being he whom had appeareth by the accolade with which the avid intelligence, from whence his nature couldest not achieveth in sanguinity, is payeth in reverence, that he does concedeth in the idea that the universe is salvational despite it's motivations towards ending things. For he looks unto the eyes of every creature of the Earth, wherewith he had not excused himself, and should retrieveth from them the anamnesis of all those beings who's deictic natures are too obsolescent for those that should be appropriate to live in the days of Men. In this respect he would not fail to observeth in all present life those embodiments of the salvations of all that life which hath been, inasmuch as the Ephestian sense is regarded, concludeth. The philosopher requireth of himself an answer as to rather or not he shouldest contrive of this cosmogeny of salvation as an implement of religion or not; and rather or not to, upon the plan of the Statua of Janus, treat it withal deliberation. It seems as if poetry, whereof the languages which art figurative should be concerned, seems to coincide into the science of biology insasmuch as every creature of the Earth seems to represent the intellectual opportunity of the future and also the recapitulation of it's progenies; and also those creatures of the past which is ancient and hitherto seems to hang in some peculiar dormition. It seems as though salvation is not a nascent, but rather, an ongoing phenomena. Shouldest we read Faust, who's most estimable rendition is given unto us in the words of Goethe? We should find within it this scene which seems to bear significance in my mind; that of when Mephistopheles who, in his incipiency, was given unto the creature of the Dog- for it was this dog who, lingering in the midst of Faust, compelleth him so as to be taken into his home whereupon more interesting events should occur. For we should now be aware of the progress of these events that this dog assumes the more generative properties of Mephistopheles and, in the token of bifurcation from Philosophy into Sorcery, hence initiates that most rewarding narrative and verse which seems to dictate the Euripus of virginal attractions and macrocosmic politics. The student of literature would do well to know that, at a time, Goethe had engaged the likes of a more intentive study into the occult. We should find within the Tarot my favorite card; the Fool - for it is the card which I do believe was the grounds for allusion herein. For the Fool was often depicted as a youth of even a man behind which a dog was observed to, in ludic manner, persueth closely by his feet. In the Tarot this card is representative of those beginnings which are novel; and hereby what I do believe we should reduce ourselves to- as philosophers. Faust, the Fool: the one whom stood in that inane connexion between which Philosophy, Poetry, and Sorcery was seen to contrive nativities; as those ashes which Achilles was reduseth to thereby having been intermingled with those of Patroclus or the more ancient world which, as the Gigantes of Phlegra- who's surviving should findeth in the site of Leuca, with their mother, a sense of refuge as upon the account of of Strabo and that we shouldest as well seek, in our own century, a donation of similar gentility. It is the Fool who, in his prenuncious manner, couldest find in nature a God who, in the definitions of this salvation, is clearly observable for he hath reduseth himself further before even the world of reasoning should appeareth unto his intellect; or the sensibleness of categories and the grounds to putting to name those phenomena which are spiritual and those which are not. For the spiritual phenomenon is that which should appeareth to the mind previous to the Reason; and succeedeth to be enjoyed by the mind beyond that latitude which with the Reason couldest appropriate it's significance: and this is called being Metaphysic by some. So, unto mine report, I should establish that the universe is concerneth with, as more earlier mentioned, a sense of gender and the properties which are salvation; for the conservation of all things is a necessary function of the universe. We should hasten to exact the presence, within ourselves, of an infinitude of deliberate and nascent conservations which through the Greeks, Pagans, Celts- Zoraster of the Persians, the tub from whence the king Tching-Thang bathed in, the Emperor Septimius Severus, the Explorer of Iberia, The Bough of Gold whence from the Aeneid we read about, Jason whom to Colchis sailed, the Descent of the Ganga or Ganges, the Puranas, the Enuma Elish of the Mesopotamian and Babylonian myth, Achilles and Patroclus, the seduction of Leda, the marriage of Peleus and Thetis; and the former's exile to Pithia where he doth become a King, the House of Atreus, the Achaemenid Empire, Seleucus or Nicator's Empire, the Peloponnesos and the Byzantines does establish a sort of recursion in culture and time from whence we could generalize our own. I should saith at this point that I take no stock in the belief of Xenophanes of Colophon who, on mythologies, doth not contend to such dignifed terms as I do; for let us behold that history and it's Gods and Myths are yet living in some of us and all that is required of us, in order that they could be resurrected in a slightly more political sense, is that brevity for searching for the similarities which we happen to share with them for certainly each one of us must be some sort of epincion for a more idoneous, albeit latent, godliness. Necessarily, that spirit which happens to attend us in those hours wherewith the tribunal of history reveals itself is ^Esopic; and being led of the protreptic song might it be said that it is also the competence and import of the personal history to, in only the most voluble sense, make of benefaction in novel items: for it hitherto must be arbitrated in those reports which, devised philosophically, should content that each embryo or instance of personality mighteth rise higher, in it's own context, then all of history- who's context is most evanescent. And that there is magick upon those accounts of Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome, and that Egeria who, being also Arician, imparteth unto him the wisdom and the body of those principles with which he devised his religious constitution near to where those Baths of Caracalla were erected in the third century. This account seems to summarize the cosmogenical relevance of gender: fir this formulae couldest cause to being engendered the conservacnt if the personal histories if studied in cojunction with that ideal that I earlier mentioned which deals with the Eternality of the Godess. Any lover of animals should hereby considereth of the Guaja' of Brazil and hence to those whom, in the romantic taste, desireth of their Earth more of a scenery along those lines of the cities of Italy there shouldest be Cato's Origines and for every writer who, in the taciturn plan, requireth of his own estate one country House of Scipio there shouldest riseth one from the ground as the Emperor Julian and Plotinus and the Enneads so long as the philosophers have the mind itself. The mind, hitherto being given unto the ideal of human consciousness, is, in it's nature, a deictic thing; that is being dependent upon a certain context that it couldest be. The House of Sallust at Pompeii had it's gardens whence the human mind, likewise, had it's own fitting styles which are languages and grammars. SO it is that we have a context. This vinculum, of mind and the context of the mind, should provideth all the routine for being for, in any ontology that is conceptible, these two things may not be separated from each other. A man is no man that he couldest not make use of words and, being limited to the expression of emotions only, doth not rise so disjoint with those animals which are more common. Shouldest we treat the mind as an inseparable element of the universe? Of it's own contextual existence? And another question which, as it happens, should engender in the philosopher more importance: if the emotionality, which from such a more primitive epoch does develop, hitherto should commandeth within man such a planetical knowledge- then why is it that these things as; Poetry and Philosophy which, being inspired strictly within the nous, do so well so as to consecrate them and express them whilst being so distanced from them? Philomela who's tongue was cut by Tereus releaseth those who poets are, who revealeth nature's name and not their own, and cannot speak but indirectly, at nocte consilium, uponeth the plan of things unattempted yet in power as it is that they shouldest go about where the people are- hath she released them to be reconciled to the Earth, hence into the like order of their kinds of people to walketh in their own souls the Nile, and the cross that tolls every day of nature. And even those Epincions of God themselves hath not yet been fitted, as Vico of Naples in the De Italorum Sapientia or Scienza Nuova, whereof he gives his famous ideas upon the alterations between the ages, or as a Holy number in Iurisprudentiae antehadrianae quae supersunt "Ulpianus libro septimo decimo ad Sabinum" that as in Osvěta "vhodne a poucne osvetila" he dost not holdeth himselfe in his own place as Paul of Aegina in the Epitomae medicae libri septem, which entertained the sum of all medical knowledge, nor had the surmisation of their broader sides required no lesse then a glance, that is the distance I calleth to take one through that expense of the soul of Men, to be admired as in the Sämtliche Dramen "no Committit se castris tenera puellula Gomitata" or as in the Legende Onuphrius "Nos crux mundanis seperat a paleis" or as in the Gereimte Psalterien "laeta epularis". The poet dependeth uponeth nature as the Scholar dependeth upon his bookes. A Philosopher is merely a poet who, as Nicanor Stigmatias of Hierapolis who was most concerned with punctuation, is so appreciated in a more cultured and subtle fashion for His play is too a play of words. The poet remarks like Solomon, with Lillies, and Henna; and intervals of picture, and thereof the Conopeion or long square which would unfold in him would seem to occupy a place in the community of God. Days cannot peremptorily deny a nation of passionate generalities about which high verses and books art made of, of the height to loves and self loves. The poet moves so as not to deny that worldly principle and in our judgment daily do I discourse of fire or calculate my obedience to the maze of death but I couldest not conceal from myself the Poetic height of my own loves which, beyond death, were made ever so luculent to me. For these are the famous pillars of Princes; nor wholly omitted in the Canticles or of any Pindarian visitations, looking through which is obvious unto the Persians or Greeks or of the legends with Arthurian splendor, and might be accepted as being made by position of the streame of parts of which runnes into the Sun beams, seemes of the highness of Phrygia or that which passeyd into the rule of Cyrus, and the own nature so lightly conceiving the name of Philostratus, and the Erythræan or appearing rednesse at Babylon. My philosophy which injures no conviction of the listener hence left me directed to consider this point which is that an effectual traveler permits to leave no one who knows in other men of which he possess of, in either his style of poetry or of ethic or of science or of dialect, to that knowledge but rather he should entertaineth them to being told of himself in those interests wherewith he is concerned to talk about that he mightest have a reputation for the same approach but you, moreover, hath been involved to express it more eagerly. For it is in eagerness and not in wit that Genius is beheld to live. Heaven and thorns spring up, with each poet containing this order. Those more orderly situated are ofttimes from these Princes out of nature compelled to in their circles breed at least those thinkers which are poet- like, which are sages for as in the Genealogiae Deorum Gentilium "Porro zelantes hi suasores criminum Poetas affirmant" or to him, as in Orfeum: Poročilo o nekem gledališču, Zelo nazorno ste napravili, or "Ende einem palast erbauen, den man Konigssaal oder Aulica nannte" as in the Niedersachsische Sagen, for certainly his Palace is built under an open sky. The sage has therefor greater things to say then a philosopher, for he is more like a poet then a philosopher as it is that he respecteth an origination of philosophy in the poetic order of Nature, who cleaves to govern a penthouse over all and had no occasion to ride in some handsome columnary work, as any such would be made in the study rooms: and the manner in which nature shuts up in Cherries, Acorns, and Plums would seem to maketh him vitalic. Epithymum and the leaf or appropriate explanations thereof that plant wouldest reveal a poet to the Earth which is tumescent and like Heaven who's thorns and noxious flowers, howsoever beatific, would spring up unto wherever and thus become commoner and commoner. So he proceeds to lose his life that he will cometh to behold such beautiful things as this. The work is no safety nor is it a blessing. Whosoever loves these drinkers of the beauty of the World herself would bear some contraction in the kingdom of his heart, honouring it, yet, in the first, he shouldest shew himself that he hath also the same goodness of his own dayes instances which, though only predial and modest, commiteth to aggravating a certain vigor within mine reader which stresseth him to join his auctorial soul--and thus he who would have irregular apprehensions thereof that soul and make of a voyage like Hanno whom beholdeth elephants [b], should findeth one who's orderly hand above him could renounce learning from the Chiasmus in Violets, Stichwort, Blossomes, and the exuccous part thereafter that this order wouldest be fit to find the one knowledge truthful which all the world's poets would tell him of and tell of, through them, of the eagerness of a real science and the flavor wherewith it entices the soul to act upon it that it may be expresseth to develop it's own fullness of being thought over which cometh in the eagerness of ambition and not simply the defense of appearances. For poetry should wish to contacteth beings who's residence is outside of the soul, and philosophy would do well so as to be conceived for the purposes of the opposite. Writers were planted as the world of Men at first started to be involved with God in the project of creating for the purposes of company and kindness and therefor of the society with him, the Celestiall and Empyrean he possessed of this Paradise; that in their Deities, is no blinde apprehension of Trees, that considereth the Sunne this figure, there are from it no circumscription to the verdure and bryars, of the spirit of either Earth, or of the Napaea in the valleys within it, but rather it penetrates these things and revealeth their purpose unto one. The government, albeit considerably vein, of Men and, in conclusion, the Word proceedeth in form yet being the specious part of their Geniall spirits, doth not inherit enough of it for I have occupied within it yet even the Name of our Saviour Cyrus who, in the eye of knowledge, was placed in the invention of Gardens. That the honor of this Priest unto the Plains of water, to the crucigerous vyne unto where he carried this Rule of Trees or Pliny's first temples, yet particular, and clearing away thorns and found a node of his own restitutions; though fatally prevented by the queen Semiramis, declared himself somehow a mother to his own Earth. I prey that creation, in the forthcoming hour; when in the form and Moon, in everything else, does not deny our thoughts along different ways, and it is but that this work of water therewith the Celestiall and lactescent vyne always subsumes concern in the lovers of Paradise; wherewith we shall chiefly insist upon that language of things in Heaven; nor fully perswaded that art, ariseth so as to risk the enanthema of our Wings. And if it is silent that at the brasen Table of the ground, but Jaar Eden, and Diana for the Moderns, have been Artaxerxes, that he found no slender Antiquity in the Traditions of other colours, figures and sacred Plantations of plants, most equally distributed for he would know that for every one passage concerning Paradise he would be divided further into the figure of this typicall thought of those even who are open likewise to the orders in reality which are ecumenic insofar as a man is sociable, not particular in size or name, who pretends in his temples, to take not of these differences for as it goeth in the Apocolocyntosis "Primum si noluero, non respondebo, quis coacturus est"or as it goes in Listinar Tesinska "Pragensium numeri consueti Polonici". Withstanding the infirmity of our hesitation to expressing ourself, I'd like to think the unwritten poems outnumber those having been submitted to being published as the Scaenica saith "veluti Actaeonis cornuti" or as the Germania saith "Gallorum et inopia" or as the Vivarium noteth "nutriti iterum egeatis instrut" that if we be not versed on paper certainly we sing our verses in our sleep and in our dreams.We are the Plain of the Rurall possessions of God, as in their brief description hereof, wherein the Seasons and honor of every daye, naturally a name in the oscitant number of Creation, in the time and City of God, hath claim to a ludic economy in men hereof yet persuaded to be poets and in those that have that it is to the souls of man upon this I fell often to cry out their names, and famous nations of dealing- and what Philo first fill up, the fruit of life, the frame of Kings. Thou would directeth philosophy unto those luminaries out of which all other science floweth which we call the wants or the loves of knowledge yet in the flesh to say, as it were that we hold a man, would not the presence of it; of those roots of death so terrible, cause to growing those philosophies thus into which thou mightest find that Men fear a visible degeneration into the Law of men's minds, vain opinions, velleity, or erroneous assessment- for from death springs the reprehension of death which we call The Truth who's Æthereall particles and movements so highly expressed, as well as a Resurrection, alloweth it to eat infinitely of the solicitous intention about discovering the last words unto the ultimate Wife of Men which is Philosophie. The heavenly order of Death, which is undergone in ever incident of a particular state of being's cessation and therein prospect to many another, possibly higher state's incident, so passeyed through a wealth of echelons as in the studying of rocks or lithology and the chemical sciences and thereof the processes of both Earthly and Humanly activity; so is Glass contrived in the practice of fire, Diamond in the activity of Earthly pressure, and Ice in the clench of coldness and of insensation which is puissant; so is the Soul of thou man produceth in the furnace of math and reason and of philosophy. It is into philosophy that Man comes to have his own essence suffocated, if but in momentary eclipses of himself, to expose his own sullen Animal to the ravages of his newer senses, thereby encouraging the degeneration of himself, that he mightest find himself at length polished, or refined, or altogether made more resilient to the World in this annealing. In another sense that ferment of religion, philosophy, and art might be looked at as an afterlife.

The wisest model their own insights which, like the Baths of Caracalla or Titus- both having their pavements after the seas- art an embrasure of Heaven within that proleptic sancta of Heaven, moreover their own characters, under that architecture of their home- this is to say that their conventicles or lodgings art somehow deliberately conceived of and bear within themselves some significance to him for he recognizes them as an exemplary partition between him and the world outside his mind and as that place wherein he is supposed to most especially think or write and, like Philo Judæus on Solomon's temple which oft resembles the parenchyma or greatest most part of either meat, fruit, seed, bud, or leaf, of the world, there is a sancta built for the philosopher or poet which is called nature for when enjoyed, and this is to say to become known to animals and plants, and to have even, as Eudoxus of Cnidus who required the help of his friends to pursue his astronomical and mathematical studies in Egypt, accept the community of even those insects which we seem to fear in that they remind us of our mortalities, it would seem to imbue within one a sense of familiarness and therein effect, withal possibility, a more luculent tribunal of one's thoughts. And it is most important, also, the neighborhood one has about one and if one is to respect his animal community as well as his academic one he might, albeit due to a gradual adjustment of his senses, come so as to adopt a few of those virtues of the animal. The virtuousness of all animals is collated in that they cannot lie or become known of Antenor of Troy who betrayed that city- and if they "lie" which is to say that they either play dead for an enemy, or use any other means, even going so far as to direct their prevarication unto those members of their own species, that they canst profit, it must be said yet that this is still not being done in the vein of our concept of lying because no animal can violate the boundaries of his own nature like a human being can. Those animals which seem to exhibit either imitation or ingannation or other such things are simply coming so as to reveal those characteristics of their own being- they are not capable of penetrating beyond those capacities of their own species in order that they might dismally outmatch or outsmart or manipulate it's fellow animal in another. For it is out of the Spontaneity of Hunger that one animals draws from another and doth kill so that he may live. This axion governs the animal life, amongst others, never revealing the world or experience with a dereliction of terms. The spontaneousness of the animal appetency must excuse him from the participations in what are seemingly acts of murder, that he must conserve himself and his life, and in doing so must therein and, without deliberate optation, either devour flesh, flower, or bud. In the mind of the animal- it is not death, which he cannot even demand of himself to think of, it is not the death of another either, but it is most certainly a manner of sustenance. In his mind, this spontaneity of hunger, it seems to cause him to go about in fits of rage and fulfillment. These states are illogical states in the animal, and would seem to cause him to neither concentrate his efforts upon the object of his killing or even the nature of his own activities- but rather it is the dietetical element solely that concerns him. It is the food that has become one of his ruling powers; it fills his mind when it demands of him and thereupon undertakes to nullify his senses in a peculiar sort of passion. The animals is concerned with one nature: his own, and in his life this prevents him from longing for unwarranted itineraries or higher society which art human passions. That he might devise a newer pratique or newer natures the human being can be seen to implore machinery, science, philosophy, sophistry, attractiveness- and it is Human Nature which is impossible. Our Human Nature is a monkey one- but it is a Spiritual nature that we are usually held accountable for and would designate as terminus ad quem. Philosophy is no privilege and, although it holds the inherent quality of being free (A), it is also not a natural part of our human nature and lest we be like Eudoxus of Cyzicus who was known first to have circumnavigated Africa from western Europe but was never heard from following one of his travels we shan't have need for disputing this. It is said that at a point, not long after the inundation of the pubescent phenomena, the ability of the human brain to acquire language and therein religion, art, and philosophy- is lost. All animals are enlightened because they have inherently attained the greatest of their "ideal selves" in other words, every single animal is being the best cat/dog/lion that it can be. It cannot impose delusions on itself over it's identity like a human being can. But not all animals are benignant- some animals are inherently aggressive, passive, etc. We usually see that the more intelligent animals are passive: Higher monkeys, Gorillas, Bonobo, Dolphins, Elephants, etc. When one of these higher beings is killed it is human and good to feel a state of regret, albeit every animal death is one that can merit regret. But we should find that we illicit some animals for the purposes of hypocorism and cuddling- and others to seats of intelligence, religious significance, or symbolic veneration. But a human, unlike the other animals, does not have to respect the death of those members of his own race. His intelligence, the thing he crowns himself with- his diadem, it is this that distances him for more eternal and present truths. The truths of his own nature are the last things to be consulted by man for rarely do you find human beings behaving like human beings, like philosophers. The human being is an experiment of nature: he is the prototype of his own God and so, even though he doth not know this, his own Father. He is the first attempt of the Mother Goddess to reunite with the Godhead- for the feminine gender to reunite, cosmically, with the masculine gender. In other words the beatific candidacy of Nature is Man, or moreover, that creature which canst talk about that beauty. Those that can become the bridge from God to Nature feel a certain exuberance, a certain mixture of both scientific and spiritual energy, an essential conflict. But it must hitherto be said that Man's nature, of all the possible natures, is the most demanding of them all for he must, in every moment of his life, await his death. No beings harbor within themselves, or are even capable of such, death which is so terrible. It's mere conceptualization seems to effect and repulse the intellectual embryo- seems to, from the most initial point, stunt the want of information in order that more convenient or comfortable truths may be concerned. Above this he is demanded to Love, or at least to consider what love is. He is demanded to await the death of those he loves, and of all the animals, his life is one of the longest. But above all he must become a philosopher. If he does not- he might never know the fullness of his own truths. He risks the life of His Ideal Self, by not withstanding it and incurring it's Earthly manifestation. But to become a philosopher is to expose the soul, is to lay thy self naked, is to experience the ultimate credulity. The questions of life might become horrendous, or enthralling- and might lull him, as the bee in the Nilica flower, to sleep and thus keep him from the other departments of his nature. I cast myself in a seat of the firmament, imagining myself an Angel, that I could examine human being more closely. I note that the human life is a constancy of risking those things that are loved, is a constant attempt to attain the ideal self. In all of philosophy and art I see nothing more then a dog whom, having a piece of meat raised above his head by a stick or such instrument that has been attached to him, seeks to commend his chase to it. But this is not to reduce it's worth, by any means. It is simply to suggest a newer understanding of it and how it passes to being. The ideal self is fixated upon you, it hangs above the face of humanity bringing that thing into deeper and deeper seas. If the human becomes enlightened, he has reached and awakened his ideal self. I believe enlightenment can be nothing more then the fulfillment of your own proclivity and capacity. The first step in doing this is identifying the powers that control you: emotions, people, organs. We can only do this with philosophy. If the human being has become enlightened then he becomes like us.Therefore their is an afterlife. The afterlife is religion, philosophy, and art- whensoever it is experienced fully. In the state of enlightenment the human being dies, suggesting it's lack of being to me. The human being that is spoken of is more or less an isolated case on the grid of of our universe. It is a waning propriety. For out of any of our expectancy there was a monkey who attained communication with God. The human being is an animal who has taken a glimpse of God and cannot return to his animal senses again. His only option is to seek a more passionate relationship with this God lest he condemn himself to an isolation is the fixture of nature- he will hitherto be nothing more then an oddity, albeit magnificent and wonderful- but alone and able only to be at peace with himself. (A) there can be no question of what we are going to do with the knowledge of which I am talking about as there is no question over the victor between Zeuxis and Parrhasius for: that which is Philosophical and Artistic knowledge, which I will hitherto call Cultural Knowledge. This knowledge is not dualistic, and is not instrumental. There is no direct application of this kind of knowledge to the real world and therein it is ecdemic to the world of other sciences or politics or even those things like the personal agenda. It must work through other things before it precipitates in our daily lives. Every human being, rather they embrace it or not, are seekers of knowledge. Now anyone that wants to learn about deep philosophical issues is completely free to do so- but this is by no means enough. The only functional society comes when it's government either does not exist or endorses philosophy and art and poetry. Only when it is endorsed, made to seem significant, etc- can this type of knowledge achieve any degree of unison with it's inherent quality and original purpose- Cultural Knowledge is a means to affording a fimbria, or fringe to the social system. It is a backdrop, backbrain, melting pot. It is here wherein the eccentrics dwell and, interestingly, also where the incipiency of the next cultural peoples dwell. It is in this fimbria that the embryos will continue to grow and where, in the western world, the archaic, dying, or eccentric thoughts will take up as a reposition. But there is a clear shift from the comfort provided by Cultural Wisdom and the wisdoms which are provided more strategically, like propaganda, on the part of the government. By not endorsing and praising philosophy, the government has committed an unethical act, given their influence and power on the peoples, and are clearly opposing that house of the fimbria of our cultural knowledge. A trait of this western society is the price that has been attached to knowledge. The Tribal systems offered their lessons to the community, their crafts, their arts- it was ritualistic in and of itself. Those ancient and depressed communities or tribes have their own internalized philosophy and art or religion that they can turn to, because the supreme quality of "Knowledge" is that is is absolutely free and that it will choose to elect itself to this position wheresoever a peoples will form. 		070907
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LeoNNeon Wouldest thou gleefully read those poems of Sappho who, according to Plato in his Anthologia Palatina was the tenth of the Pierides or muses and, being indirectly quoted on the part of Aelian of Praeneste in his work on Assorted History, was very wise, knowing henceforth that our Name must be, as Tiridates in the Parthica by Arrian who founded the Parthian Kingdom, passeyd unto us from Someone else, and that the most salubrious or Pacific form that human relationship canst take, insofar as this essay should examine the conventicles of love, is that one which is Lesbian and which can be called the Divine Instinct which must formeth the government of all relation and creation, for the Name of Woman cometh from the Name of Woman, and that of Man from Woman, for she is the most originary of our Race, and the most beautiful and encouraging of us, as Simplicius who erected a statua for the Princess Eudoxia or the queen Semiramis who by doves was fed, for in all of Nature's fixture which, like the Aelia Laelia Crispis, an epitaph discovered sometime in the eighteenth century, doth causeth to effect a degree of Hermeticism, there is, withal certainty, a viceroy or coronation- for the most perfected romantic event comes to occur never in the union of an unequaled materials which is called either amphimixis or parabiosis in the sciences, such as that of the Ova and Sperm, but rather in that confirmance which is spiritual, of one virginal intelligence in another, and not of either Evadne the daughter of Pitane the nymph and that child she exposed to the elements or Niobe the wife of Amphion and that regretful case of her murdered children, but of the Mundane Egg of Phoebe and Hilaira, of true Chaos and true Night which art the seal of Parturition and of the most significant force in both Philosophy and Art, and of Philo and Solomon and, respectively, their Logos and Wisdom. For whence a Man, awakened in his Heart as Parthenius of Nicaea whom taught Virgil Greek and wrote the Erotica Pathemata for Gallus or Eratosthenes of Cyrene who ascertained the Earth's circuit, Alexander after jousting in India, or Pontius Pilate and the Truth which he doth not care to stay for; or e'en as Paphnutius the Ascetic from Egypt who giveth many accounts of dignified hermits, Sadi whence it so came to passey that he calculated the human body to withold it's blood by the means of three hundred and sixty rivulets which were to floweth all about the entirety of the expanse of bodily organs and parts, or Browne in Pseudopoxia Epidemica or the book of vulgar errors and the infirmities of man, comes so as to submit philosophy he has thereby performed one of the greatest most acts of creation and has embraced the feminine property as his (her) own and, in the vein of Codinus on Justinian, hath commited to the a great retelling of the great rebuilding, of the church of the Holy Apostles, in Constantinople, the Imperial Polyandreion, and hath solved that ancient alchemical problem that was written in dedication to those Gods of the Dead because it was engrafted within the Divine Instincts of creation and life, has become the Women in Woman, if he loveth one, and has come so as to exhibit the soul which is an inconstant Lesbian. "Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum" for the Patriarchy, hitherto induced in those religions which, replacing the Pagan Ideal, came as to constitute their societies, hath encouraged a delineation of my own society's loves. A good relationship must come to pass that a Man can bring satisfaction to a Woman, insofar as the response to both their emotions and ideals art concerned, which art both faculties of Womanhood and creativity inclusively, so it would seem to be that the Lesbian relationship, as conferenced even between, insofar as the body is regarded, Man and Woman, would constitute the most admirable form of Humanity's carried unisons. Certainly those final lines of the Crispis would serveth to verify this knowledge which speaks about the Tomb which is the Body. I believe that the Love experiences shared by females and even a female and a feminine man are sacred transformations of the human experience. It can only be attained between the highest states of consciousness: the feminine states, for it is out of this state, even though a vast proportion of philosophers happened to be male- it is still their feminine side that hath works to create, that all art and philosophy is engendered. Have you ever written a poem or made a work of art? The feeling one gets, towards his work, is one of intense love and pride- it is a seal of Parturition, it is the same feeling that mothers feel towards their children. It is the activity of the female soul.

We did discover a most commendable Latria or religious service by which no oscitant class might ever become survived and by which no Atheist or Iconoclast might becometh to collect himself implicitly: it was that latreutical and Pierian and testudineous incunabulum by which we hath acquired need to invent new and more epenetic language given that it was most ineffable and in the religious circles this is called being of the nature of the aniconistic class; being that agency by which no physical offices entertain or even go so far as to, with the moderate plan, confess to the enjoyments of a certain admonition. We were preferred to the calling of these most initial scriptures; those verses of the most Holy and artesian Incunabula- those things by which all the more intimate histories were explained of mythology and religion- poems and that professorship whereby their qualities are determined poesy. Poetry is the most essential and original form of language, and thereof we discover in what effect we are so compelled to, in our human fashions, associate ourselves with such things as a poem and why exactly it is so inflected upon the nature of the Soul. It is our most initial response by which pulchritude of any sort becomes to being conserved throughout our epacmes. The poet, which kept by his station of never- Tyrrhenian and niveous Ecnephia throughout the complete expense of his knowings and doings, is invested deliberately of the Ephestian and nidamental and Sephalican flowers oft which the Eurhipidurae climb and the firmament or the bird's "pterylae and apteria" or the configuration of his plumage and upon all that most carolitic edifice of the world's chrysanthemum which is proper for nesting; and which are those loving faces, verses, and bodies of some Cyrenian and papilionaceous column by which he hath commandeth himself and is drawn hitherto by some interests retained of pleasures like that most splendid Altamira Cave and it's intellectual paintings of bison, deer, and pigs; for it is most attracted to that art which is derived from biology, and zoology, and history: mythology, and architecture- and most especially geology, archeology, and paleontology: to encourage the knowledge of porphyry, laccolith, granite, and breccia and all those tramontane winds which is knowledges and which are like some God's halitus and cord; as that diacrinous station which by some incurrent and labent inundation of the poetry which is inclineth by those acroceraunian peaks of Albania and which performs by the resolution of psilopaedic and altricial birds of the first coming down, which by Summanus and Jupiter were graced; inspires the likes of Horace, and hitherto constitutes a new class of creator gods in that Intercessor of what most men are as an insolvency through hemeralopia, or the failure to see with effectiveness in the brighter lights: the periapsis of our pittance- which are like reading and scribbling poems, some inconsequent fleas of ours- if flees were as aligerous, of course, or capable of flying and might elevate themselves occasionally from their host. But, if all men were acquainted with the taste of their pomarious hypocarpium, their newborn undergrowths, and first coming downs; the procumbent-fruits, which behind them always tread: those fleas, those disregarded portions of our daily effort which, by no common nature, might ever impede relationship with us. I have a funny little notion that the poet is as annotinous and untried as I am by my own despondent muse committed to assume some honest condolences on behalf of that poor dog Laika- the most venerable stray of Moscow, hence I am as encumbered of our sensitivity to be, as one would say, experienced. The poets, I have often noted of in my own nomenclatures, are likely as erubescent pygmies when firstly approached- that is to say, in the manner of some natural animal; a species yet occasioned with a man's conferences they requireth a certain degree of a "getting used to you, as a new pet of sorts." You could see that conflagration of the emotional faculties in "The Rape of the Sabine Women" in Nicolas Poussin and Jacques-Louis David's work, but the poetic class does better with the likes of those ideas: forthwith justice to presume our word, the part of us which is equated so appropriately with our character. We visit the Aventine Hill, of which, rather then King Aventitus of the aboriginal Italians, I choose to believe is named under those birds which nested there after rising from the Tiber. As poets are cast of the wares of Mount Pentelicus, which was near Athens, and celebrated for the white marble quarries from which the Parthenon is built. O, we might also admit gratitude upon that particular Hindu with regards to his means of annealing those, by the token of mutual benefit; haemocoelic and numinous nutriments of the cow: flowering lately, with the vegetarian method in our society- as they might be revealed to so sentimentally provide a milk as the the Himalayan goji berry and the Hemp seed; which by the Hindus is recognized as some Holy sustentacle, as something into those fires of the Hearth of Hestia and Vesta; thus ensuring it's quality as pure as Acheulean tool culture; and so why not thank the poet, concerning his means of preventing the souring of language, and art into the great lakes and forests of Masuria which, in the manner of milk, are most like a continual, illimitable, nectary?- Etruria in Italy, of which D.H. Lawrence makes of in "Etruscan Places" might have expressed to a more distinguished taste of history that import of the growing of grapes, and the making of wine, also several architectural styles- and the Olympian Gods to the republic of Rome, but alas, the poet supplies us with such greater things, as those whom are to acquaint themselves with poiesis are of the Silurian era made, the first of the convalescent animals upon which the air made conferences with. IN what was that frondescent field becomes by the impestus of verses, which is some pycnaspidean and incanous bird of the milks of the river Styx and like tempered metals by the hands of the great Hephaestus himself; what is that inchoate and crepusculous instance of peloria, that manufacturing process of the annealing soul upon which entomostracan and impennous angels rest in their weightless flying, as the Copepoda, or Daphnia. To write poetry is to vindicate nature as Chukwa the ancient turtle whom supports the Earth, and happens further to perform his natation by Ksheera Sagara, that thalline ocean of milk from which all the organs of the universe are derived. And, like a testudineous and remontant seminality(cd), there is by the respectuous endorsement of a propensity which, by an olamic function; dwelling as some rudimentary organ within that marcescent and insipid testa of every man an incipient Homunculus which is titled as being poetry and which from that most obdurate seed permissively consents to be known a humility that is definite, and a particular species of Amaranth that is called perhaps, a poem- that diaspora which is that symbol of the inocciduous comport that is, with regards to the city-life, forever banished by the necessity of it's attractively insouciant conviction which causes to be equated in uneven proportions the scheme of differences between correctness and rightfulness, of labor and having experienced work: and from that hodiernal station one amongst many takes up his residence as osculant and appreciative of the cumulative dust; that most pruinous poet attains in modest increments what he is so disposed to, with immoderate passion, exemplify in the repertitious germ of the Holy which is his "pileus," and the statue of cernuous Man and his Universe- that plangent and abirritative contraction of the eternal heart, territoried by the edacity for those most spirituous liquors of the "asthenia" of reputation and document and profile which absolve one to this comfort- to this particular velleity of placid amusements as the keen observance whereof those things which hold interest might be immortalized in their momentary selves: as it was before being disrupted in the participations of one's own verecundious amateurism- alas; this enlivening rhythm must be rendered into our principle homiletics as the implement of a certain diaphanous natation for our prayers and hymns which by pluvial institutions collect, and thusly upon the public be conferred for it's alimentative proreption; and the halituous and premunitive firmament that it rightly contains which beyond the oldest historicities contends - that inocciduous "systole and diastole" and "Euripus and Ampotis" of God himself- those infinitely veritable interpretations of the moment whose suppurative involution is foreordained to be made and remade indefinitely throughout the cantative parturition of inhalation and exhalation as produced of the Universe's "Coryphaeus" which is that susurrant ephemeron whom is called Poet, who is so disposed to develop his opus when no one in particular is paying him any degree of consideration- which, complacently manufactured in the operations of those most accomptable Monarchs of toreutic and encaustic versifiying, that is the delicacy of infusing the subtlety- which provided in their arundineous hermitage, possess of that most tenuous proclivity of hammering these most phalerate, or ornamented forms of wisdom in the metal brands of men's speech; alas, for it is so complimentative of vendition and industry and thusly unfit for that nemorous velum of dense woodland and backcountry which the poet encourages to precipitate from it in torpid and gradual appeasement, to then by various hortensial commitments becometh as some timeless, lapidescent constructures before God's own verdures and opulent fruit gardens- stone and open to the considerations of the age, and no longer partial; lambent impermanence of beauty- and fit for the tempering of that opertaneous commiseration, which by the employments of the poet can be revealed as some enchoric germs which are always complementing of the office of some vestigial layer of the man contemplating halcyon, and which is disseminated and in it's patulous body or ostium of transient creations possesses a various cosmogony of dematiaceous fungi and vegetation; segmented or meristic in the having of such a plenty of those somites of temporality which shine iridescent, setting alight the empty skies of being living; had inclineth the poet to resume his place amongst man as arborescent refuge, like an atavistic Tree to provide shelter, food, firewood, and more for merely the transient surveyors, which by various generation, migrate to that pulmonate adnascentia belonging to it in the hopes of determining some adient milks: which is readily able to digest both productions of a common element- as some earthworms prefer this delicatessen which the poet has attuned his dietary regime by as well, dependently within some sempiternal pensiveness and dexterity; for the day itself and the poet die together, so they are as commorient brothers. It is from this acclimation with the sanctity and poetic utility of the immediate, from which the poet- in subtle relevance like an amasthenic focus- uniting the chemical rays of light, embarks upon the considerations of his peculiar metamorphosis. What of that, which inspires the red in blood? The poet is like some alchemy to cause to change the element of nature into something able to be appreciated by those unacquainted with it's sense- some haematinic encouraging the pigments of the immediate and momentary. Call him also a shore-inhabiting fellow, or that limicoline bird that prefers some intermediate status in nature, and whom scouts out the various interstices of land and water and air. I often find that most hypenemian and inermous station of "Euripus and Ampotis" in myself between the Boeotia and the Negroponte that I have, suggesting to me about how all philosophy and all that mesmeric corpus, entrepôt, or oriflamme of poetry- which kept by diameter of the greatest appraisable goods, are merely these limpid cliff notes, simplifications, and the commentaries of exceptional peoples; hence that sui generis, that inculpable region which is our personal lives and concurrently, those relationships with with we describe and circumscribe our meanings, our taciturn prerogatives. I hold true, the notion that solitude sharpens the wit and toughens the mind- this is unable to be disputed, and observed by most accomptable philosophers. But, the intellect is such a thing that it, by the recrementitious obvention of our daily experience, associates itself with beauties that must ultimately be communicated, even if only partially and by inchoate expressions. Those most conticent latitudes of our meditations, considerations, ponderous gradients: like incipient embryos, they open up and command themselves but in consequence of the power of intellect of which they bless us with, by our improved reason they must be consolidated of their distribution- they must be as dead upon the exceeding of their function. Man is mirror, man is propagator, man is voice when there is no voice. The philosophy of solipsism is the cruelest, the most inane of content and the quickest to devise ways of upsetting that allodial station. I feel the poet, with the most intimidating standard, characterizes this human necessity of love and talk, those things which above all are of value to us. The poet, from his alimonious and crenitic entertainments, who from time's impartial contract is exempt as the watchman Moai or the Gods of Mount Nemrut, or any pomarious ideal for that matter and of whom I understand were representative of their people's deceased ancestors, Gods, and living chiefs as, again, the poet: born of the Syrtis bogs and those munificent notations of Pippa; had he Ecnephia Sceptre; hence he inclineth the likes of the fruitfulness of obvention expressed in the manner of childhood: behaved in all it's procellous puerility, in all it's unsettled sediment as the plants Elecampane and Amrita conferring vitality -of the impediments of any sort he, in absentia, performs his commentary by noninvasive carriage as if he might have acquainted himself with the art of Ephialtes who pervades of the nightmare, and is so disposed to do so with the retention of being able to distinguish beauty, routine, life, and faith apart from one another. Life and the poem are, executed indistinguishably, as concerted synoecious and erinous upon each other; disproportionately inseparable like two prickly roses intertwined in their humble growth. What person, betrayed of his own requisite proclivity, can not or would not engage them privately and force himself to withstand their separation, in the attendment of each thorn by consecutive thorn? Like Aeolus' Bath or Prothalamion Spring: withheld and matriculated to the air as Hyblaean Bees; these seeds of poetry withdraweth from all of time's various remark as Neaera's detention dost, into those lengthy progenies of the ancestral titan Iapetus; father of Atlas, Epimetheus, and Prometheus and, through some ongoing standards, the poet aspires to determine himself in circles of sacred quality such as these ones and to invest himself as some departmental king(1).

We poets, being as unblinking and capable as the tarsier monkey; that smallest yet most provincially adept hunter by which the Asian arbor is conquered and that when receiveth by the occupation of a cage means to dispose of itself in wont of repose- by the improvement of our peloria and etaerio; We, as ripened berries one-by-one disposing themselves from the bunch by will of an individual fruition, emerge hitherto from that perlarius and aurelian Hibernaculum from which the phlogiston yet circulated and there is indeed sleeping a various wildlife of sorts; as that Earthen "parenchyma, or most initial meat" by those Titanotheres and Creodonta, comprising some of the Earth's oldest and most diverse; before the cat, no! Before the lion! Before the tiger! Before the dog! Before the wolf, preceding all the common texture of creation those ancient animals, by an expiration yet fit with a greater depth then that of any number of accomptable kings, a most esteemed poet; or any singular entity for that matter, suggest by the death of an entire ream of life a certain experimental quality in nature, perhaps even a curiousness of some sort, as Typhoeus beneath that most sepelible Mount Etna, of which has been dissolved over time more and more and more into our human strains which are insolvent. We, whom are most insular, depend upon each other lest we be without the comfortable shadow of being known, the closest thing of which love can be compared; which is when common struggle in our entertainment performs the atretus that is our being repudiated together, like those animals, from the living people from whence are harbored in some strange familiarness with us that they shareth in: for this twas' to be a poet.

All the language of nature, by an endemic pretense, becomes to rippling in an ectad grace like "aqua regia" in the solvency of golds and other metals of similar degree as it inspires it's effect by a common seed as, in what my zoology should saith, the Creodonts and Miacidae from which dog, cat- tiger, lion and wolf are derivative, by want of intruding the various cavity of the mind from it's most initial point and hitherto establishing the principal of certain transference by which all things are most necessarily bound. It is as if the universe breathes inside of that space whereof the intellect is germinated, which is that thing that notices such subtle Nemi or Arician groves as change and opposites. Nietzsche understood that all things must complete themselves, and Heraclitus understood that all opposites exhibit convergence in the logos from which to be distributed are those sepiments of the various fauna of a language which holds descriptions and adjectives as most veritable implements to the truth. All the variant forms of creation must necessarily accomplish themselves in their opposites; the non living must eventually make the transference upon which they entereth into those spheres of the animate and from which upon they are thereby guaranteed a recovery of that acquaintanceship with which their former elements did incubate unperturbed and unperformed. The highest axis of nothingness is a platonic form. It does not require the universe to exist because it doesn't exist- rather, it is "imaginable." The universe must by these degrees transfer itself, forever talking about itself- extrapolating it's content that it might find itself able to cope with the maintenance of it's health and anatomy; from rock to flesh, from star to dust. It thrives on a certain necessity as the Pythagorean Ecphantus of Syracuse who supported the heliocentric theories, upon a certain aspiration to the equivalence of the nothingness from whence it was derived. Life appeared because formerly there was no life and the universe appeared because formerly there was no universe. The common systole is an intellectual phenomenon and so could be looked at like this perfect mantra that we might cometh to know the axis from which we couldest most intimately learneth equanimity. Our existence itself is of some salvational nature, hence all things that thriveth within it are, in their own sense, as a various pigment or atrament which bleed through the World and as Him called either Philopator or Eucaerus art imprisoned, changing in some qualities and sometimes even precipitating into one other, and this is especially true in light of the universe that is the intellect. It is this particularity by which the natural evolution of things, that ensures the immortality of any created thing, is respired. It is this inertia; that instead of potential linearity, the universe maintains it's condition by a most prevalent exaggeration of it's body in Transference that, by subtle gradualism, causes to change one thing into it's opposite thing. This idea gives rise to the Cosmogony of Genders which couldest be described in (xx3) at my convenience. It is this transference that denies the pretensions of which most living things occupy themselves with, when considering the elements of the universe, rocks, and the like. But all the strains we firstly discriminate as being immanent and inherent to life are to be enumerated as being in the procession of a various activity in the deepest, deadest regions of our space as it is that all nature is aware of it's nature. Carnivorous survival is merely an echo of some universal inertia and human love is merely consoling next to the attractions of the chemicals, the lineaments of the body and that microbial life from which it is interpolated. I find myself often considering that the mind, having not invented those objects of thought, is merely persuaded by a hermetic column or Serendipity to "find" them, and pulls them as the Eolic and Phrygian modes from some sempiternal dormition in intellectual space; as that gradient by which 1, 2, 3.... extends. As I might describe any number, I might describe any thought, by which the possibility of the thought, and thus the thoughts independent existence are accredited. By this realization are we made to know that our Selves are not bodies or minds; but concepts and ideas; this most unfamiliar phantasmagoria of timeless embryos. It follows that our Heroes, Gods, Souls, Theologies; of every sort, of every conceivable strain- they are alive. May we enjoy that the idea of Us existed before the universe was created, and the state of affairs from whence we drew up our personal spheres as well was respiring indefinitely.

Might it become in a man the never- Tyrrhenian day when he fairs to consign to reputation that we might let every caulescent poem(1d), in it's visitant plan, becometh an orison and benediction- because it so happens that those particularities of the law of it's being, which when considered are so vastly apparent to the fecundity by which we are so disposed to elect the human soul, requireth that preference whereof to employ it so that it may also, with such valid efficacy, come to serve the interment or burial whereby the artist is inclienth to that engagement of his own sancta and his own invention and thereof to the relief of that want affording some consolation in all the manner of dark hour from whence his community is born limitation; that vigil of prayer from whence the Euterpean office and "furor poeticus" designate, by some ideal espousal, those most Holy Men of Earth that they might acclaim their own condolent titles and eclat and lineament and be born not out of the city Oxyrynchus in the Vitæ Patrum which was said to possess neither pagan nor heretic. Might every man build himself upon the idea of Pygmalion and confideth in high muse that it is She who is the most giving and loving and transcendental and numinous; taking into his depths the philosophy of Robert Graves and that he provideth himself in that genius loci, or eternal spirit from whence high muse is caused to creation not by those less-then commendable inundations of man's velleities, but that it abidest in man's most mature and vivacious ambition that, at last, man might attend that want or those wants in, at least, some less-then copacetic house of word and rhyme and verse- for this dematiaceous Muse is the Aeon, Atman, Duende, Aeolus, Satori and parenchyma: and that most essential reciprocity that you might esteem to have been worth the costage of enmity if it was but fleshly and carnal and thereof baring no apparitions to you intellectually and thereof caused to the walking upright, in the manner of person instead of the eternally feminine that it is. If it was that the Hesperidian gardens opened before you, and from out of our intellect and all it's history: Numa and Egeria, The Celts, Babylonia and Syria and Adonis, Diana and her sacred grove at Nemi, the Flammarion Woodcut, Empedocles and the elements, Ephesus, the Phoenicians, the Esquimaux, the Idaean ideal, the African ritual, Symposium, Ariccia, Mantineia, Ganesh, the writings of Lucian, Thoreau, Emerson, Homer, Virgil, Aesop, Anacreon, Dante, Hippocrates- Aesculapius, Medicine, Mycology, and Plato and Socrates, etc- literature, poetry, navigation, astronomy, biology, Indra, Namuci, and the foam of the sea; were to all in one most initial routine concern the Empyrean and it's aetherial and eclectic method with but one individual human life, as this is the fulfillment of Eros, unto which all human endeavors are enthralled to attend- you might not devise yourself to withstand the person's absentia that it was the person who stood to command a Muse on your lonesome behalf, which by countless ways, is given unto that deciduous entertainment that is the greatest assets of our life.

It is to be entertained, by a most confessional imperative, in this case unto which I hath been given unto some peculiar liabilities and whence that most eximious or that most choice occasion becomes to happening whereupon I am entreated to being, in only slight degrees, that much more accustomed to thorough philosophy and some fuller thought; that I might becometh to no impedance by which that following axiom is explained: that a man couldest navigate that axis whereupon there is directed a various relationship between Men and God, preferring himself to one felicity or the other but, with the consideration of a more liberal plan, he might always have become to pardon himself from one department or another of that most essential reciprocity, that man requireth in his design by like efficacy that commonition and professorship whereby he is administered to the likeness of both God and Men and with their cogent office. But it is that the "soterial" or salvational commuting from whence God is becometh known in a man is most inconsiderably differential from that which man is made to devise the love of other men and all their familiarity and stock- and all that man entails; the love of brother, the love of the lover, the creation of the progeny; that it requireth in a man once so formerly developed in the patters of commerce and language( which reproduce themselves in all of man's societies) and consider such strange requisites. If a man is to suffer God, he is to deprive himself of that most necessary viaticum of his own kind. It is then the goal of this life is to decide in what covenable replete one is to endure his lonesomeness. To love God is to love his celestial exclusiveness and to be unfit for a man's society, to be unfit for a man's Eros, to be unfit for a man's home and a man's families and so it should be appropriate that one must tend to his own Ephebus. To devote your life to God, meaning to devote your life to the higher pursuits, is to cause insularity to occur by which you are less frequented by more common men, and more common women. It at least engenders the difficulty of communication, and if you have cast yourself into the utmost currents of God and Philosophy, then you will have also cast yourself into the utmost current of eremetical living. The further it is that the aeons progress, the fewer people there are that support God. My own God was philosophy and thoughts, and that God hath failed me. They were not enough to improve my soul and to defend my currency and moment. As Propertius saith of the birds who profess more greatly then any artist so the observation of life canst presume itself as equally poignant and rich as life itself for those who hath embraced that monastic waye hath yet ever felt another. [cvb]To uncover their true nature I had to become insular, I had to devote myself to reading and writing unlike Xamolxis of Scythia under Vesta. And at the end of it all I was only an INCH closer to enlightenment and hath advanced many reckonings beyond my self and my home and my planet. Thats why I chose to be with men and people, and to keep my God away inside of myself in some miniature forms, if I could. But it is that philosophy, as accounted by many old philosophers, is so great a servant- a subordinate complement to that, by the token of the most common figuring, character and honesty by which we defend our Person, or Who. 		070907
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LeoNNeon That most coulant germ of Man, and my Mankind, being thereof so arcual and commanding of my intent, is provectus aetate; or by it's years well-developed as the manufacturing of more familiar books is as far from it's healthy celerity as is necessary for a man to disregard The Golden Bough, Thoreau's Walden, or Kingslake's Eothen; that most obscure work attributed to Lycophron; Alexandra or Cassandra, Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus, The Old English Elene, Phœnix, and Physiologus, The Garden of Cyrus or hence ascertain the various furniture and commodity of life in what lacking incipience that is to be in want of that most aurigal trite of literation; exalted in more gifted writers so as to provideth complement to the sonorous call of birds in a song or call that one mayst call his own. It should be quite couenable, or convenient for me to be a philosopher one day, and a poet the next; so as to prevent the two strains from the mutual adulteration that would likely accompany their illicit economy, both parties most notable for being exceptionally dicacious, most likely whereof they, by their cothurnate principle, develop the common seeds together, respecting neither the fimbria nor Bolerium promontories from whence the good public might find itself disposed to claim as an edifice which is inhabitable(1). Of course a verse can riseth ever so high by it's lines in thought, and this is good- but not that meaning with which I intended to convey. I mean that a philosophy must be a philosophy alone, and not merely developed in verse- which payeth ever so much attention to the tedious motivations of fantastical wordings. Was not Socrates a model of conventional philosophical thought, having no less then a propise method?, an adept of the basic element of discerning informations, one to eviscerate away with a certain aptitude that most initial layer of intellectual space which exalts one beyond the material convention, by the means of a rigorous dietary exercise of detail, intricacy, and pretension? He was- but the poet has included by his concern a vastly different, almost impermanent sphere of testament. He is become afraid of death, he is either become perturbed by that approval of his own decay, which by precocious development recieveth office as Philetaerus of Tieum who with supremacy became obsessed after the death of Alexander the Great, or by that limpid approaching of his own loved one's and his friends; whilst the philosopher is, by the investment of crueler sentement- as Onomacritus of Athens who compelled Xerxes to war with the Greeks, so as to inflict the earth of order, yet reproached by what the poets might identify as aposiopesis, or the breaking off into a sentence- as we must know more, as we have inclineth ourselves to the story, as we have entreated ourselves to anatomy and recital; for these be that consummative mantra of the human soul, and have yet encountered the speculations of such sere details. I might not endure that passing of my pets, let alone my brother or my parents, especially when these most sussurant moments that I am enveloped in are the last defense beset me against this world, and my organ will be exposed to such a world in that onerousness of absentia from which I am, without Providence's halitus, condemned- assured to surmount, and from which again: I have assured myself I shall withdraw when my due epacme so doth revolve in itself my fortunes to despair. Might I now know the meaning of that quotation from the inferno; "Abandon all hope," lest my mind be vein, I have entered that dire Varaha of myself.

Within every man and every philosopher, by the asynartetic portion of those sovereignties which doth pass judgment unto him for the public, there is to be, unavoidably left, the poetic vision, as Synesius of Cyrene who saw those Philosophers in the mouseion, and that dost unfold into that image which pervadeth the hypolimnion or inner most water which is obsolescent and which, oft given unto his soul as that summary of the works of Epicurus which was carved unto a wall by Diogenes of Oenoanda, doth keepeth that tenuitas or attenuating of his stock in those flesh-pots of Egypt or unrequited loves, or his want to giving his loves their proper space, and is like that prospect from which the geographer's Ultima Thule is thereof commemorated- that northernmost region of the world with it's peak not unlike the benignant aegis of a less-obstructed view of something regarded as "most especially lovely" by him. Might we adjust ourselves to stiller depths unlike that Cleomenes of Naucratis the selfish and attune our relationships with a still-calmer subtlety- in our colder waters, our benthal germs for is not the labor incurred in simply getting there - to relationship, by nature of having to comprehend such ordal, worth as much as the relationship itself- as to improve the character, or rather the durability of the character which is that thing upon which the relationship is becometh dependent upon? This is my love. For to retain that deepest portion of one's self which is so fit to the circles of poetry one must undergo, by some protracted iterations, the instance of his recollections, imaginations, intellects, and reasons. He must keep to himself to protect the ones that he loves from that indisputable justice of proving himself to himself. The durability of the character, that is the effectiveness of the consecution of one's more intimate nature and honesty is consequent of the expression by which the individual dost limit himself to in secrecy which, later written thereof, is conferred to the public. And who is master of his expression; both the employer and developer of his word? Who can, with such an idoneous sincerity, proclaim to be the derelict keeper of his expression? To be forever misunderstood, from that day hence: no matter his manner of speaking, or his context. Who is that poet, with the Syconia, reclining beneath the fig? I heard him say he could relate himself to the insouciant prince of swine herders Eumaeus and felt something missing in antonomasia, or the use of epithets and proper names and, with the respective attitudes refused to acknowledge dignities, offices, and the like. Though he only respected the personal names, and the personal lives that much more. It is because the poet is by the employment of no adulterated cultures termed and otherwise free to become of the intermixing with a various stock that their is that homochiral relationship, or freedom of enatiomers and reflections between the adelphous poet and nature as much that he presides representative of the experimental antecedence of that nature, that is because he finds by the determination of his similarity to that oldest and more animal concern of living, he becomes the animal that speaks and that Amarant of historicity who's coalescent filaments are intermixed with the world's to which we travel to, upon the compunctions to renew our ancestries. The poet whom is that Saadia belonging to the common stock and as Tasso put it, performing as the syrens of the ditch, or rather they are the Levant and the Ponent winds whereupon no name is called to their attendence, so as to be as outwardly unappealing and disregarded treasures; those Phoenician frogs and traders and navigators. The Egyptians treated frogs as the symbols of fertility, as to their appearances concordantly which depicted their anticipations of the inundation of the Nile.

It was that those most prodigal labors of our cenobitic figurehead and incanous Prytaneum that is the intellect and is as our maternal government were repetitive and dull and improvident but that they might one day, in the likeness of that daisy-like Coreopsis flower, becometh to improve what is our, by a most comely trait; most mendacious firmament, that we shouldest find ourselves acquainted with that humble notion unto where we art encouraged to investeth ourselves to the exaggeration of the hole lot of their particular routines. It was that our peoples were but simple animalcules munching betel nut in between some odd conversations and becoming to prepare some stock of opsonium by which they complemented with the most principle food of man; these petite little loaves of bread as they preferred themselves to some tenuous village of fay: an entire lot of enates which are dapatical as that "dystocia and ecesis" of the human Soul which within Geoponica is embosomed and which is most justly regarded as an evolatic creature and to be found as dinetical in Prometheus' Heavenly auricle will ever be brought to light as none other then the "Homo universalis" that is amphicoelian and compatible infinitely in philosophy, or that Universal Man as was Leonardo of the Renaissance entitled by the contemporary- whereof all the various degree of information itself is so disposed to be treated as a contestable office and worthy of those administrations of one's pursuits which are mostly earnest though sometimes entomical; as surely one's initial proem by which philosophy or poetry might be inferred will convalesce and loosen him and, becoming to exert him, conquereth him in some tribulation of his fortitudes in humanity and spirit that is diuturnal but whereof he is to eventually prosper in that commiseration of some Hercules by which the plenary narrative of human culture is containeth justly(xx3), thereby which all the things of poesy and academia were delivered unto those succumbent fields by which several varieties of animal life did all but completely harvest, becometh as quite oblique and private happenstance. But I am hither beset to gather Deucalion, Utnapishtim, or Noah(3) and hereby I am a poet by which is inclineth of that ampelideous verdure- that is, by the vine and of the pome by which a quantity of Heavenly inventory is becometh as the original brain by which I prefer to orient my worlds with; as I hath been admonished so as to avert the elements of Nature's disproportionate guise, whereby I am in the likeness to submit myself, as are most poets- to prestable considerations of history where I hath procured some instance of an acerbic nature for I had become known of Xerxes' audacity to have, by the sea's record, admitted his own ill-advised punishment and thereby excuse himself from all the (1)asteropete and propitious idea of the greater character and nature by which every human should at one point or another detect and whereby humility and supplication before the truer Immortals (which are those elements of animals and nature, being as unchanged since they appeared and likely exempt from the considerations of accostable death- those by which the Achaemenian stock in Persia were not complacent) are esteemed as goods worth those various contests of one's desideratum.

(xx3) How kind was Julian on religion 1 and O for how I would elect to admonition that benignancy with which I hath learned newly unto those of the Christian faith that I wouldest only invent a single refutation of their myth that it is my Heaven that I must hitherto calleth puissant. To beget the Christian afterlife one wouldest, in want of study, review those several books of the Bible or attend some service of the Church but to acquire all those knowledges which which I couldest, to you, illuminate my religion one would only, in want of those Heavens which art eidetic, look unto the face of a women and therein it must be noted, for all those whom would call themselves philosophers or pious men, 2 that it could only be my faith which is not a domestic issue and is so open to any member of our race of Men that it couldest show wont of name. Wouldest I make myself into an Alcinous 3 or collect those wisdoms which, expresseth in the De Usu Partium by Galen 4, were so relative to the condition of a human being if it was that I should find those Heavens able to be touched and tasted of. That, like Pausanias and the Xoanon 5, she doth requireth her own precedence of human glory and dignity in order that she could be made of in our questioning which, like Thomas Browne in his Pseudodoxia Epidemica, shouldest have wont to be comprehensive. In those reservations of the secondary part of this essay we will, by want of exigencies, cometh to investigate that ideal of femininity 6 but it should be in the current vein that we engender to mind that neologism of a soterial exigency within the nature of Men. The male is Ephebus, is puerile, is the eternal colt and babe but he so becomes the inventor of Love, in the Erotic sense of the term, through this playfulness. If the natural state of relationship is Lesbian then the erotic relationship is originally a necessity of the Male and thereof of an inferior motivation. In his ludic nature he permits to form some artifact whereby the Mother conserves that knowledge of her youthfulness that was given up unto her dehiscense that she mayst yet be come into more a more studious sense in the wont to self discovery. Men are their own Erythra 7 whereof such great wine was made and Men are become their own ecesis like the Women who originates Our Soul and with whom they deal- but then it must be said that these Men, who do often conceal themselves in Poetry and Artistry, cometh so as to deviate very generously from their own Brothers even so much so that they shouldest not even be referred to as Men anymore for as I ask the question; is the Syntagma of Gelasius of Cyzicus, o'er which the acts of the Nicene council art made of, an inconsequent compilation of history, I mean to take note of the smallest parcel of the world and so I suppose I myself hath either met obsession in obscuring myself from Men or hath met sincere profession. The Poet is with whom we are speaking of and he is neither a Man nor a Woman. The imitation of the goddess transforms to become it's own subject eventually as Sionita of Edden in the Poema enigmaticum whereof the divinity of God was given unto praise philosophically. In the attempt to inherit the nature of his mother man creates his own nature. But would all Men riseth to this stage of their own being? Is this new Man a statua of that Etruscan deity who, from the Noctes Atticae, 8 we learn is the Anti-Jove 9? But we mist also remember that Gender is foremost a necessity of the Mind. There are those principles which, like Armenia, are endurant and which like the great Cyrus of Persia, who meeteth death fighting the Massagetae along the Syr Darya, are at least commendable in that they profit to navigations which are ecdemic. If one were to have been a king of Syria could he then findeth in himself persistence like Cyrus whom persuadeth those hanging flora to his own name. I am like them; being like the river Euleus, which divided Susiana- which is the City of Flowers, from Elymais that I couldest saith unto those eleatic ones who entice me, perchance by verse, that they too are sufferable- if it is that I should I speaketh into nature herself. But, even being in no religious department specifically, I knoweth to find that the existence of God is only contended upon a technical plan. What a supremely laudable uncertainty that is open to the forum of philosophy and poetry; then the women who, in opulence, is like a page out of Plutarch in the life of Artaxerxes as it is that he entertained his Princes and peoples in open gardens. I saith in only fiducial sentences that in those philosophies which, in their seminal taste, are hopeful so as to acquire a various sense of cosmogony there is most vacantly illecebrous to me the path to the necessity of Gender; and whereof this gender is related to the progenies of the stars and cultures with which those stars are esteemed as being of any valuable inheritance thereby to those beings residing under them. There is and was an Eternal Femininity which is called the muse and it is an idealistic point of reference whereby any human being, presumably male, for there can thereof be no women who is not already poetic- might segregate his experimentations of abstract and emotive objects upon in order that this organism, in all it's constituents which are only the most boreal things, embodies, within only the most literal sense, invention itself: in that birth, the continuance of life and intellect and civilization, and the persistence towards those things as well. Despite our progress the ages might still be characterized in particular sentiments. We look into those initial most cultures and observe a mind which is, beyond all, Celtic, Pagan, and Greek: poetic, feminine, loving, concerning with abstracter- more philosophies and the idea of a Mother Earth- of a Gaea which envelops all life. It riseth ever so high in only the votaries, whom bear in their embodiments the religious context of the "daily experience" which is inculpable. For in these spirits of feelings; for in these Eidola upon which our earth- universe hangs there is a much grander inspiration because all daily experience, in only the most modest and eventual plan, donates, with a complicity no less then genial, some portion of it's divinity to those experiences of the year, of the century, of the History which is eclectic. I shouldest speak of the civic God who is Pandemus; for she is the greatest of all the historians and even more valuable then was The Alexiad of Anna for that historical record of the medieval Byzantium. Their is that expression of society which might be acquired in some understanding of those particular customs with which the precedence of sex, affection, and marriage art concerned for it couldest be assumed, in no disjoint of modesty, that those aforementioned relationships couldest engender a nativity from whence the People and their customs; which are, in their togetherness a society, and art so born as to reflect a general- if not invaluable portion of those kinds of conversations or concernments which art more intimate and those eruditions between which those people art attributed by me to reside more sincerely. A People is what a common student of history shouldest try to reflect. Notice that different choice of notations between People and people that I shouldest of taken- for a person; who we should include amongst that term of the people who's presentation is not affixed with a capital, shouldest, as noted so frequently in my former writings, embody within himself a recapitulation of the geologies and their times which is more complete then those which should tend to be inundated in political routines- and so a more veritable philology, etymology, or annal couldest be drawn from those more intimate discourses that they would share in what better crevice of knowledge to pioneer then that of which the surreptitiousness of marriage and love can bring. This infirmity, that provideth the Idleness of the Aeon, sleeps in there. That divinity by which the personal experience is, with limit to only this original context, given unto lengthy venerations is contained in the palustral spirit which is insatiable and that longevity with which the society, which is a reflection of the Male (perhaps it is this reason that males are such predominant figures in our societies) uses so as to advance further into the substrate that is the Eternal Femininity( in several ways thereby). It is by these most subtle relationships that the Muse has materialized to originate Philosophie and Poesy. The female character acts as a substrate, the history, the embodiment of any particular culture as a representative Goddess from whence the male, which is the veins and the intrigue and the enthusiasm, uses as a template so as to configure, in virtue of his own playful and ludic imitation, his own renditions of that Eternal Femininity with which his senses have been doomed to be confounded by for the rest of his short life. But this women is known to more then these human condensations which, although of vast solicitude to us, are not wholly the cosmos and so is more extensive then Jung's Anima. The universe is female and the earth is masculine in that it mimics this female in all it's own business. Or rather all the cognates of ideation are feminine; all the perfect thoughts that humans and philosophers share with each other. And the strange death- that dormition from whence these thoughts are hung so as to, in the perennial commonition, be made accessible to us- this is but a means to gestation and moreso endemic to the ideas themselves then the other way around. For the Nothing, holding thought and at other times being held in thought, is the Form of coition, is the most essential motherly anatomy, as the womb, and is equally the most essential attraction in one incestuous cosmology. For the something is much less perfect then the nothing, being capable of retaining beautiful things by numbers merely and the something, always knowledgeable of the nothing, must compete with himself so as to, in his own being, duplicate the lacunae for the nothing is but the most creative thing and the most consoling in as much that it's dominion is solitary in knowing to what length forever would go. What we see around us and us ourselves; these worlds- are but the Adonis or Ephebus which is no less then propise and in utero and that is the something which imitates the nothing, which is his mother's womb. When the something riseth to his own life he becomes encomiums and imitations and praise. He is worthy of a various office but moreover he is exceptional. "Nothing" is such a fundamental part of idea, insofar as every true idea must be unadulterated and immortal. Man, who embodies imitation, must, by this proclivity, construct himself accordingly some worlds which are similar to the ones with which he was firstly presented with as Niccolo Tartaglia the Italian who was a self learned man and, having learned only half the alphabet before running out of funds to pay is tutor, doth so progressed to learning the rest thereupon his own study and time. Man growst best in the nothingness that is the womb of ideation and that womb is best discovered in poetry; and the ideation in philosophy so it is that they are both equally valuable in the exploration of femininity which we call discerning the ways by the world of ideas revolves. The conviction of the world is more or less ineffectual, in that the world hopes to riseth as high as Nothing; which is the state in which all the processes of invention are most lucidly conducted. The society is but the masculine rendition of the female, the world a rendition of the maternal Nothing; which is the womb of ideation, and which holds in it's organ a pure substance called potential and potential Something from whence us men are prone to cause to being examined closer still because that is our truest nature. In accomplishing our own nature, in our migrations from this Earth and the universal womb, we often discover pygmy "Somethings" which imitate our own creation which is virile. The mother of ideation, who's children are poems and philosophies and eternal thoughts, affords us them perhaps as means to novity by, with only the most cautelous and prudent art, spinning them from those aetherial columns of potential. When us artists, who are so lucky as to have been given unto the eternal of mothers, begins to feel within ourselves some "seal of parturition" when we write, some sensation as if our word, our poem, our story is our own child; we hath only experienced the point of reference whereby the eternal mother herself understands the condition of her progenies and so this we call the act of creativity. It was, in only an unsuitable precipitancy, mentioned earlier that Philosophy is the child of Ideation whom knows most intimately the mother herself; and that Poesy is that child who affords one the vestibule to the eternal womb of the nothing; thus allowing whosoever hath been entreated to Poesy's providence a most delightful comfort in those clouds of potential and inventiveness and thereby it can be said that Poesy is also that child which prepares one so as to confront philosophy with such a character as to avoid ineptitude( and perhaps it is this reason that much classical poetical volumes contained within their verse fine instances of philosophical musing) and also as Idatius of Lemica who as a child met Jerome. It will now be said that Poesy is the daughter of Ideation whom is gentle and uplifting and preparatory and that philosophy is that Son whom, in stern tutelage, requireth of a person a decent reputation and those signs of achievement which art industrious so as to allow one to come within more intimate relationship with the mother, that is His mother for as Athanasius in the Ad Afros Epistola Synodica mentions, of how the Lord canst not have made himself, so it happens that we must worth through the hosts of minor angels and as Ephraim the Syrian on the siege of Nisibis saith, of how one must stretch forth his bow against the flood, so we must hither accept the vastness of the world.

Knowledge hath a motive of audacious want as Tissaphernes who laid a magnificent park in honor of Alcibiades or Alexander who opened Greece to the Asian tradition of a finer hortensia and enjoyeth the likes of the paradise of Bazisda and also who commiteth detour on his march from Celonæ to the Crack willows of Nyasa in order that he might find those gardens of Semiramis at the foot of the mountain of Bahgistan and he also was greatly upset to find at Pasargadae that the tomb of Cyrus in the royal paradise hath been opened to neglect and looted and once more he, when coming to Babylon, by the seed of illness, so presseth to the far side of the Euphrates in order that he might perish at least before it's great park; and to be found by knowledge then is to enjoy those vegetative colors or a pleasant walk like those of Paneion or the grove of the Nemi as it is a richer and more diapnoic mountain or it is the vale of Enna or the Mausoleum of Augustus that was planted with many cypresses or even still it is Tyre and Sidon where there were those silks brought of some Persian caravans shipping out of the markets of Armenia and Nisibis and which, as far as an appraisal concerns us, fetched quite an opulence as we learn of how Aurelian bemoaned the price of silk from that place as it is that a pound of the material went for some ounces of gold. That knowledge that we were discoursing, being nowhere near the cineritious state, is more noble still then once I did, before the mind that is rarefied, denote by means of writing or more considerative estimation; like the famous forest of Dadia that is in the prefecture of Evros in Greece or the Pindus mountain range or it could behaveth like Penthesilea of the Amazon even and taketh up a man like a women does with hands that are roundabout as Eritrea in Africa, that name thereby being employed under some Italian colonists, who is most exceptional in her own character which is like the Thracian kingdom and thereby not being separated apart into some odd factions of history like kingdom of Odrysia or the Dacia of Burebista or the Seuthopolis founded by Seuthes III or princess Europa and the hero Orpheus and so doth not become to causeth all manner of sufferance to happen in the vein of Agape, Chionia and Irene who were girls of most prominence. For it is that knowledge, in itself, doth never age- rather, it degradeth only until it could taketh up the forms of erudition as that lucidity with which it is permiteth governance over thy morale, and thy philosophie is rendered more, and in excess of gradient, quite- fashionably corrupted. Therefor it is that knowledge is eternal, the only eternal substance that does, with verity, deserveth to be placed under label; and that it is discovered in order that a man, who is the philosopher and is saintly and dignified, mighteth be given unto those holy disciplines with which he hath secured in mind his destiny, which is a mark of the authenticity of his free will; which are those assemblages of knowledges that he has chosen to pursue and which are wholly expressible, wholly verifiable. Be it that a knowledge is Phoenician it should be well suited for explorations by sea. It is my opinion that the column of knowledge might taketh up one of four forms which are different so as to becometh like an acclivity that is optional. It could express itself in either Philosophy or Poetry, but it can also be expressed in the knowledge of Sorcery and the Religion that Sorcery causeth to being engendered. Three of these devices are those types of knowledge that can be useful to the bloke who happens to find himself a creature that is social, whom doth not inherit much from knowledge that is Religious, as this is inexpressible and valuable to only whereof those whom, in preparation, have discerned those philosophies with which it's ecstasy is containeth in stricter more formulas. So it happens that Sorcery is the intention of Religion, inasmuch as each religion seeks to accomplish at least one instance of transcendental experience, and it is also a particular symmetry of philosophies that the mind, when restricted to, is impressed with; so as to make of duplication in that form with which the philosophies, when made of in the art of the eclecticist, is created so as to understand that ineffable ecstasy that is the program of those philosophies whence the figure of those philosophies hath been miniaturized in the mind. The knowledge of sorcery requireth of the magician the knowledge of philosophy; so it hitherto must be included in mine thought that they are relative to each other. So it happens that any condition can be reproduced in the mind, given that the mind has been impressed in likeness to inherit that condition, by the frequent annealing of the mind in any philosophy which is dynamical. If it is that the job of Philosophie and Poetry is to express, in turn, those thoughts and feelings with which a person has taketh into his acquirement; it becomes the job of Sorcery to internalize the religious experience which is liable to exceed all the mediums of communicating things that are human. It follows that Sorcery is the greatest most interaction of philosophy with other philosophies; and it inspires Religion which is the intended synergy of those philosophies to develop, which is the highest most of the human sensations. I am like Strabo who spied near the Necropolis many gardens in which family tombs were to be found. I am a Priene wherein all the courts are paved; and I am the vessel which was built by Archias of Corinth, holding all manner of flora. What do you saith as to what moves the Stellae erraticae, or the thorn of Jerusalem that is Paliurus or the poets that would taketh up henna blossoms from the vineyards of En Gedi or read upon Dioscorides and Pliny into the nature of plants and move wonderful knowledges, not withstanding those infirmities of human stigmatism, to so impudently suckle the nature that is temerarious?

I have, in succinct promise, erected mine philosophy as do several but I might have only used it that I couldest eventually become to know that my person hath begun to suffer exceptional inanition. I hath acquired my Soul, or so I had been deceived to think that I had. I, being so accustomed to some initial eccentricity, most naively considered that the nature of self can be discerned in thoughts, and poetry whence from the multiplicity of the human organism do offer more lineal addressed towards the divine orders. And here I am; my Soul is dark, and I am not yet the enlightened person I hath become to impersonate unremittingly. I am as most thoroughly distanced from enlightenment as can be a man, or child. Had it taken me too great a length of thought to consider that only can the Soul be awakened in Love and relationship- not even as those Argonauts sailing to Colchis, but rather that relationship by which all the God's epithets are obscured and all the world's men are becometh as soporiferous community. I hath drawn up into my self no shining quality, no iridescence, no compelling visions such that I might ever forget God and Man. Only fond memories and love can best the Lethe, only fond memories and love can encourage Nepenthe- only fond memories and Love causes the forgetfulness of both God and Man alike by which the human spirit is elevated to revolve by more precise methods. I might cure myself of one or the other, the later in Enmity and the former in Atheism and gala thought- but to so gracefully depict my life by the absentia of both of them as only love can do... Oh how I wish I could! And might I have had my own fond memories withheld by those instantaneous effluences of resplendency that so do refine the brain in childhood and wishful futures, it having long since been dead and it being rare for it to experience stimulation; lest I now be divorced of my last all-enduring honesty, I have begun to slowly migrate from them and have been caused somehow to cease remembering and imagining them unlike Theon the Scholar of Alexandria who was the last appointed director to the Great Library there. Love trains the mind to focus it's devices and causes those distortions by which all of Man and all of God are caused to occupy a single body and thus affords the most direct spiritual axis. But I am alone, and shalt live as obscure and caliginous, with my many-God and my several-Men. Is it because my person is only to be recalled by incipient musings in these strange interim that I hath urged myself to become as something else? Is it because I hath been so deluded so as to conceal my feature in this house, by which I hath yet been excused from in several odd weeks? It is this, that I am lacking my person. It is this, that I am lacking my self- and thusly, might I have nothing to offer anyone? I hath encouraged no love to give, and love is an ineffable thing by which all the greatest professorship is useless drought and lies - and by that token, I am as unwelcome to sample from it's Halidom, it's Intercessor, it's Paraclete; it's estuary and Euripus, it's total independence. I hath long observed my generation prefer itself so as to display it's antipathy for the world and it's modern duplications, and having done so in those luminances of anarchy and brutality and disregard I hath also been contrived to saith so: We hath desired to illustrate our self-sufficience, our independence from the State and from the World- and we have done so in the vein of anger, but it is that anger that compels us towards our enemies, it is that anger that hath consumed us to require our enemies if not that we might only dispose ourselves to their destruction. Might I have experienced it myself, you could be more apt to believe me when I say that only love can divorce you of your need for your enemy. Only in Love are you permitted a reliable independence from the State, the World, God, and your Enemies. It follows in line that my servility should be boundless.

The poet, whom might recall nature itself for us within some cinereous dust is carried aloft by some sort of anamnestic magic to recite a star or berry and who is sustained by those most reliable nests and the pinions of the vespertilian night-dwellers; they are like those given the gift of flight unto the nocturnal plan as they are most observant to the world only through a depth that extends it's description deeper then sight and whom also are more likely to be the "Varuna" and "Argus Panoptes" of the animal kingdom- he whom performs indefinitely in concurrence with the instrumentality of an eternal prudence; that judgmentally aperitive citizen- kept by the common weeds and gramineous verdure, and by the pavonian brain of nature from which he recites the vapors of Avernus which art poisonous and like Serbonis of Egypt, appears solid- but, is not. For it is to be said; the only human being which might illustrate the parturitive canticles of motherhood, is the poet- whom might come to enjoy and pasture his works and their equivalent seminals to interesting effect. There are but two creatures that give birth; they are the woman, and the poet- and all men must by interminable standard respect their natural ability to create with principle, instead of the "a posteriori" of artificial reproductions. The poet's writings, touch and tickle his soul, as the child to it's mother.

Thus is the Paropamisadae from whence many conquests were enjoyed by Alexander and in any other circumstance is titled the Hindu Koosh; that mountain range separating the basins of the Kabul and Helmand rivers from that of which the Amu Darya or Oxus is, and that is beset to draw attention whereof the Cedar's sacred twigs are burned to encourage the production of that smoke which the Sibyls dispose themselves to drawing in a labent fashion in order that they might determine the thoughts of their own God as they are most certainly caught up in their piety by means of a particular symbolic ecstasy: as the Gardens of Adonis or that ceremony, conducted in Athens, whereof one women was submitted to marriage with Dionysus who was the God of fertility or also in the case of this word of Quechua called the huaca. I do, in my own opulence of gratitude, recognize that particularity that the imagination is so prevalent of the human condition that as it, in some benign conservation, explores the more incipient forms of our societies it also seems to cause to being engendered a general stock of rituals and matrimonies with those peoples with which it belongs to. The imagination affords that substrate into which an individual might commit to learning with no foreseeable terminus or extremity by which his acquisitions could be entertained by. The more one knows in his current development the more one CAN possibly know; in order that the imagination connects one to the exaggeration of former experience and those experiences yet to be had. In this substrate we are divided from the animals and related to Duende and our own authenticity which is given living form by many epulose spirits; feasting in excess and driving us in their further vaudeville conventions. In defense of the imagination, I might say that it is thereof responsible for that celerity with which the office of our intellectual history was persuaded to instauration. The most initial want, as I understand it- or rather prefer to have made of by conceit, is that want for "what is occurring" both with the exterior and within the interior worlds; and which might be more appropriately defined as the appetency for knowledge. More so in humans, then is in animals, is that want of what IS to occur which could be discerned by most continual exertions of it's character which, by illimitable renditions, is given unto it's own curiousness. This particular knowledge, of what is to occur, embodies within itself the possibility for some higher articulation. This highest most articulation must be the knowledge of things which are separate from occurring, or the state of having already occurred- and hence being no more then the recollection of memories. It follows that the imagination must be that thing with which an entity can progress from things having occurred, which is the state of immediate observation, to those things which Might occur, or Could occur which, in themselves, promote the retention of axioms and principles which are those things that relate the things having occurred with the things that might have occurred and which also, when ordered and understood propitiously, encourage a more placid reflection upon their own qualities which is called meditation and spiritual refinement; into which the mind is concerned most intimately with the axioms themselves. The progress of the imagination then, to submit to a more fitting summarizing, is to engage the individual in traversing the gulf from the Earthly dimension, to a more immaterial and ghostly dimension from whence he might gain a still broader view of the world with which he is found himself to be situated in: configuring himself even in time and space and even to the length of deriving consolation in more inept circumstance. The individual assumes this station in his use of axioms, which is a lineament of knowledge that might be more highly refined by intent consideration of it's artistic nature, that is, a nature which is best fit for enjoyment and not study. These axioms are those tools with which we study and discern the inner workings of our reality; which are those paths and relations from whence various things take to encourage more original forms of themselves. In more considerable erudition from whence these universal axioms are comprehended, one can migrate repeatedly throughout an intellectual landscape that, by ponderous inclinations, might lead towards higher still beauties. It follows that, in our immediate life, our philosophy itself; our mind itself has entered a crisis into which it is either to, in Lovecraft's plan, be destroyed in that perplexity and confusion of it's own impossible mechanics or reach it's fruition in the most elegant consummation of it's own departments. The philosophy of a peoples, and those languages and grammars with which it is derived, happen to be dehiscent in their palimpsest manuscripts. In a vast progeny and a history with which only but a moment of that progeny is discovered we take stock of all those many works of literature and science and philosophy that happen to have collected in this inundant pool of those things we were calling axioms. In our own times might we, in no particular anxiety, consider that infusion of one school of thought into another, as can so readily be observed. Nanotechnology, Biology, Shamanism, Medicine, Spirituality, Mathematics, Genetics, Quantum Physics, Religion: these are all seeing more instances from one another and can be said to be in a state in which a new experimentation of their relativeness to each other and their complementations is being conceived. It is obvious that the human psyche must now, in the likeness of a poet, conceive of how best to arrange it's many remarkable characteristics lest it fall into a strange dormition for many generations of peoples. So it might be more conveniently said that the imagination is the container, the means of retention, from whence axioms can be explored and more highly articulated so as to constitute more conscious experience. The structure from which our historical philosophy has been described must be reconsidered, and in it's miraculousness be discerned more completely so as to constitute a refinement in it's designs which, obsolete and incompatible with our acquired knowledges, must be near a state of falling apart at last. We must take all our literatures and more properly consider their relationships and we must also do this with our sciences and philsophies lest we be confounded in destroyed in their greatness. 		070907
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LeoNNeon Whensoever the Delphian seed in me was, in fructifying influences, made to becometh livable I again considered those philosophies from whence I was most delighted to have been known by and which happened to exist as remotely from my own benignant Earth whence I, in more deliberate ideas, conceived it solitarily. Our society bears, without any lack of constituency, that enanthema which is colloidal; our genius is but an intermediate novelty which between the identity which is firm and the imagination which is permissive does spontaneously develop. As it is, in my own verisimilitude, that modern philosophy seems to follow an epigenetic or rather constructive paradigm in that process whereof the configuring of it's intellectual opportunities is concerned. It has preferred to build itself upon the compost of more archaic thoughts in that limpid repetition of the way in which the imagination itself is so disposed to work, which is the employer of the philosophy, in the case whereof axioms are retained so as to constitute a progression of consciousness in those spheres by which the mechanics of the axioms are more thoroughly understood so as to reason into what original forms the fundament might take. What I would suggest, in only the most sedulous idea, is the investment in sort of an all-pervading vicissitude by which the structural architecture of our current philosophy takes on more universal and instantaneous revelations of itself. Old philosophy is based on evolution and making obsolete more archaic philosophies in order that a linear objective in development can be entertained. New philosophy should not be ordered by lineaments, rather it will be composed of unconflicting and disembodied philosophies that interact with each other in a variety of ways and which are more complete in their moral then their predecessors so as to avoid that alienation from whence modern philosophy has discouraged the general public from sampling it's fallal and novelties. Notice that much interest, even so far as the general man is concerned, was conjured in the more ancient societies in order that philosophy might be added to and only in more modern times, in that synchronism with the rise of a posteriori thought, has the more common people begun to become confounded with their ideas of new and newer entertainment and dining. Arranging philosophy into more elegant forms becomes less daunting of a task in this new paradigm. This change in thinking is a change from a purely constructive thought to a thought system who's most primary objective is motivated towards more and more stable and intricate relationships of it's principle parts. In order for the history of philosophy to be completely traced back and halted so as to make possible a bifurcation of consciousness into this new paradigm we must introduce a Primary Disassembler into dialog with the humanities which until now have been ordered by some high devotion to the linearity of our observable thoughts. I believe that in the philosophies of Descartes and in those models of A Posteriori itself, which developed into modern philosophy, an entirely original and invaluable philosophical state of the Human Being was discarded. Madness can be defined as, by only the most modest idea, that state of mind in which belief is suspended in the absentia of experiential knowledges. In the new paradigm of philosophy more amicable ideas that are beneficial rather or not they might be real or logical will be developed and correlated with each other; this intellectual madness is a very- much sanguine organ of the human intellect which, in our day's anathema, has for the most part gone unpronounced. This is a regression back into the state of philosophical madness that can so readily be observed to permeate the culture of ancient Greece in the forms from whence Plato is most note-worthy and all those other, significantly abstract, philosophies and that Daemon from whence Socrates, an axis of the logical Man, held responsible for much of his own judgement. Look to Heraclitus for several other instances of this madness of philosophy which seems to me as being worthy of constituting a deeper involvement with us. It is certainly conceivable, that idea, that the general public, for the most part, has no measurable regard by which we could understand that philosophy played some kind of a role in their life. But what every man has is a basic framework of a philosophy, which is a reflection of his culture, from whence he hitherto could draw upon subliminally. Our cultural philosophy is so drastically different from the more ancient philosophical madness that those peoples from whence these thoughts are attributed to relied on to devise their society that we often, in the case of unconsciously coming into contact with one of these kinds of peoples, begin to notice a certain discrepancy about us whereof we had been more aware of our relationship. I feel it appropriate to notify my readers that Galatea is a psychopompos; or spiritual guide, as the Hermetic order even if Aphrodite hath not the generosity to animate her. The imagination is distended that no one, in any figure of my own considerations, would like to know that. We should invest ourselves to the exploration of philosophy and art, which are living organisms, as those pygmies of the Ituri forest whom are characterized by their fluid society and not like their Bantu neighbors whom erect much philosophies in respect for sin and ritual in order that we might acknowledge more intimate divinities within ourselves, that hence concealed beneath our House of Atreus, riseth but a little- and this is much welcomed, higher then the Earth.

Take for instance that pantheon by which the Hindus are notoriously acquired and which curiously draws such a considerable portion of the intellect to it, comprising such Gods as Ganesh, Shiva: or by that similar lineament, discern that institution of all the Buddhist devices of reincarnation, karma and zen, and the like: I am so inclined to prefer these all to myself as some sort of metaphorical constructures that are, as you might be inclined to put it in the plan of the Transcendentalist, brought to life or "animated" by the mediums of: Iconography, Language, Interpretation, and Symbology- which are all those subjects mastered by the poets and by which the mind is so thoroughly attracted to, so you might be able to confide in them a more proper divine fundamentality then in any priest or Brahman by which that incumbent acquisition of great verses is only secondarily required. The poets becometh to submit those historicities of the Gods to some most routine documentations in that likeness by which they made themselves responsible for all the more iridescent quality of the ancient metaphors by which those Hellenic spheres contained their axis. It is also that the unknown authors of the Vedic Testament and all the most ancient texts were thusly a class of them; all these tectonic aboriginals of the most initial enlightenments of our imperishable historicities- these poets became to write the Gods and the essential histories of our all our kinds of men thus allotting the races a common seed of which comes to us without terms and in these living Gods and Goddesses. The most intimate history was spoken or enumerated out of poets; it was not objectively documented by them, rather it is the background substrate of their own personal history and is a part of them and thus to become a poet is to become of the inventors of history and uphold humanity as a living reckoning of it's various saecula.

Complacently, the succinous and auletic and nemoral Bards peregrinate their asterismal lands and rather curious moratoriums of experience or dispose themselves to those most intentive ponderings of their insular genius; becoming to express the highest most sphere of noematical meditation and the retention of poculent knowledges by some comportment of Ephestian merit. To determine their relation to "terra incognita" which is Holy, they prescribe themselves to the rumination upon their own limited acquisitions of understanding whilst this becomes to prolonging an intent consideration of their own aphelions, and in them relishing their indelible destiny; which is to wonder in constancy and to avoid the central evil, which is oscitant hunger, the stains of boredom which prohibit the ambulant spirit which has pardoned itself from rustic experience, the verdure, and baccaceous impletion on behalf of the being filled with meat, wine, and some odd-proportioned entertainments. These men, in some adequate performances, live as the shrew is so disposed to live. Some of those most considerable shrews, in their own common propensities, include the operation of the trees and acquaint themselves with higher altitudes, and some are yet inclined to take beneath the soil and rebuke the light and the surface Earth, from their own experiences. Even more so, some might comprehend venom as the snakes do, to execute a degree of superiority in killing and therefor, among their kindred, revolve themselves with best fulfillment of their nature in the thickness of combat and defense-, and some might, in manner of the bats and wales, perform a certain echolocation- employing the means, as we do, to enjoy the world in more familiar patterns. A strange, constant hunger assumes itself to impel them towards restless lives, and even more interesting, they retain ten percent of their body mass in their brains, a rather odd proportion for such a thing as this creature. These versatilities assume, in my mind, a poetic expression for man.

The marshes do, with an honesty and volition, become to occupy themselves with that class of poets whom are some aphelian men, providing them conjointly with those trenchant osculations common to both land and water that, when considered by humans, are doomed to accommodate merely a stock of some temulentive babblings and distanced lore. Truly, that paludinous plane of the poet is not so hospitable towards it's auxiliaries but someone told me in one time of how a dictionary was something more then a document of reference- that it was some plenitudinous region of submonition for the poet and his histories to draw from; thus I have to think when writing and reading of some higher procedure of the universe by which the language that the poets are accustomed to principally renewing with such ardent professorship is enjoyed .

Somewhere distant living there is this panoistic firmament reproducing itself by the noble heath of immaturity; it is this regularity of form and expression, of sorts; this sort of eccoprotic and oscinian "Koan," or "Terma" of which we might acquaint ourselves with, to examine hitherto that purulent manner of our thinking without the idea that our self is retained in the residual effects of which our influences upon others hath induced. All things which reside in the ear relate themselves to those epithumetic and sanguine birds, as the worms do. The neoteny of respecting others is that only the child canst assume respect. I recall now, with a great satisfaction, that I know less now then I did before I could read. He who participates in philosophy should at some point retain in himself no answers, yet know all the manifold potentiality of questions. Thus by this extension, I believe that the goal of philosophy, is to in subtle gradualism, inclineth the mind into the questioning of things to attune the point in which the mind is possessed no longer of anything, save questions; and hitherto let not the agonistical wisdoms prevail. It is suitable for the philosopher to question, and better to question those natures which are of the immediate class. Those philosophical spheres alternate the veritable intelligentsia in varying and reproducible conditions of prejudices, so as to perform the sublating of one from the world, and away from intellectual servility. The goal of the philosopher is to, in himself, contradict the world and present to it the inadequacies of those pertinent reasonings which attempt to obscure it's various discrepancy. He claims some respectable station for himself in that galeate firmament, exacting his own stalwart running sticks through a chelonian and testudineous enclave of answers and resolution, for they are most orectic, or inspiring to the appetite; and they do not penetrate his shell, and the diminution of his seriousness exalts him perfectly, as the tortoise and hedgehog.

How vapid answers are in developing the ends, how hebetate is man in the prescription of such sense! How succulent is that meat of a good and acataleptic inquiry, or that enterprising temerity of some overly-curious interloper, which in any conceivable case we might regard as the philosopher. That affordability, of the multiple expression of meaning and promotes a certain commodious reclination, to which on behalf of the Soul's involution might be reserved with the exchangeability of ideas. Those formal objectifies; those whom desire answers, I tell them; the answers of which you concern yourself with afford no discussion, for they are impersonal and concrete. The temporal products of philosophy and poetry, these hermeneutic devices merely exaggerate one's acquaintance with himself and becometh congeries, and strengthens the bonds he shares with his world respectively because it has encouraged the growth of the common seed(1).

The memory is the illimitable artery of the self; and the appendages of the self, and thusly retains any quantity of philosophy for the individual, and deserves to be treated within a degree of spirituality and reverence, as it possesses the individual-self. The insensible perspiration to which the diapnoic and ablutionary apertures of meditation; wherein properly executed in the manner of testamentary canonicity and scripture, animate our rudimentary organs has hence inclineth me towards a goal; to internally retain some architecture of my writing and philosophy, to effectively compartmentalize some chronology of my own religion, such to devise an anamnestic poetry of sorts. I understand the particular method to which I employ to be of a Latin origin, accounted for in the "Rhetorica ad Herennium." The author, unknown had composed the work around 85 BC. Cicero in his "De Oratore" also yields references to this, and it was adapted by incipient and ancient monks to be used as a tool in various meditation upon their sacred texts, such to infuse within themselves their prayers. The consistence of the craft is of a most copacetic and imputative effectiveness, for one might; in the manner of someone composing, or reviewing a film or book, come to meander about in an infinite manner of directions, and patterns, in his manifold of recitation. As opposed to rote learning, which might go simply in some preconditioned formulas, this method of memorization predominantly encourages the rhetorician. One takes the Loci; which is a section of a mentally projected room or location, and associates it with distinct sections of his speech, thus affording him ample flexibility upon reciting it, allowing him to shuffle it and ponder, as if turning chapters in a book. My poetry is this place in my head. One might even extrapolate the possibilities of this, using “Locis” in the form of ancient temples, castles, monasteries, etc. This pontibility of scripture has attracted me and encouraged me so as to share it's composures with my reader.

That personal life of ours, is amuletic and eremean and vimineous; as the various pilgrimage from life to death revolves in it's Cyrenian and aposematic signatures, we wear them as a collection of Holy periapts and ornamental garb. The intellectual, by any given nature, will in opulent credulity, concern himself with nothing but the immediate for it is that remoteness of the applications of thought when seeks to appease the want of ends- that tend to fail in the soothing of his appetency for various knowledges, which is insolvent and paraenetic in it's expression. For you have serenaded this world, to look upon it in these particular ways; that vacillant and aporetic wonder which affords the soul of a man a certain solacement in that lacking erudition of Earthly wisdoms, which affords him a certain remordency and color in that unconsoling verisimilitude and epigaeous truth, who's fruits ripen best beneath the ground, unchecked by the higher utilities of the human soul.

Might I consider, in the likeness of those activities whereof I am entreated to the cautelous renewal of my philosophies, that the Intellectual- herein to be most usually accounted by the Poets in likeness of the Ellyllon whom upon the open plains are so disposed to wondering in strange and unpunctual interim might not exceed by his Indian file that particular isogloss or allodium wherein he hath been made to inclineth himself by those most volant departments of the immediate and those contestable obventions given to the Ever and Anon in order that he might leave off of those considerative ends to which, by the figuring of all the more recent estuance, that civilization hath dispose itself to obsession by. By "considerative ends" is meant, by a most pertinacious modesty, that object by which the likes of industry and the stock from which all the more necessary goals of civil activities are esteemed; them being most notably directed as the continuance of the populace, and that appurtenance of dormition whereby a general proportion of the community is incited towards no more revolutionary profession then all the more menial labors, that at least those occupations are to devise them "propitious" wherein they hath procured, in the least, that meal whereby their child is sustained. That to advocate a return to nature and hitherto afford that plan wherein the testament of the incisive spirit; that animation of the Holocene and the Agnate is required: we hath not decline all the more laudable intentions of higher thoughts, art, and reading. Hath not this discrepancy been to poorly advised so as to endure such lengthy philosophical musings for if it should be that we again ascend the arbor we might find in our camp promoted a more commodious lodge around this time as in Georges Bataille's idea on the linking of religion with nature inside of Man; for civilization might be but this curious enamel, smilax, myrtle, and lacquer by which we are not bound, encumbered, or withheld- for might we not take this thing up with us, still fit to climb as we had before- yet with this single differential; that we doth now so righteously excel in literature, mathematics, arts, culinary device, grammar, comportment- that we hence have inspired civil attitude? And if that civilization might be something as accomptable and complementing of my endearment had it not to digress itself by my opinions of it, whereby it is shown to defend all those things by which it's office is, with that concern of referendum, upheld and encouraged so as the placability of aggravation, the docility of the temper- and the improvement of all the body of sodality is esteemed? If the civil spirit is something to be honored, is it not to be dependably revealed that it is compatible, that it is able to retain it's conditions at all times and in all circumstances by which it is stimulated to act? For why is it that we may, by those most affable devices, consider civility in our own homes- yet when provoked to the improvisation of other kinds of people, we are suddenly communicated to our most obscured vestige? Civility is not a cessation of the animal man, rather it merely acts as some curious drug that, in a temporal plan, stunts the activity of such a thing as the animal man. But alas this civil product, this culture hath been such a necessary evil. For without it, how might the babe discover language which is something as a "patrimonial seminality(1)" at that, and thusly how might the poet be established if provided not that common brain as language is?

It is most certainly true; that every particular age, in it's own extensive body, possesses a various assemblage of elite, figures, or representatives, and that these bodies of individual men serve to be therein attributed to the vocabulary of the various spectrum of our mortal expression and effort. Though, these men are certainly great, I have been inclined by no manner of evidence, as to believe that they were any more great then ourselves. It is the fault of that society, that it lacks the capacity to acknowledge the opulent fullness of it's constituency, and invests itself to the task of enumerating it's stock within a lazy stupor. The given society might incorporate only a limited portion of it's greatness to the historical canon, and so, the most worthy experience of humanity; which is the individual life, must go for the most part as some plangent yet recondite poetry, as "Ovid's Metamorphoses". That society is weak of mind, for it can only recall itself in miniature forms. Above all that I have seen, I appreciate; the meaningless, the meager, the incorrect, the imperfect, the abstract, the personal, and the illogical, the unanswerable, and those creatures unburdened with names; which are all the things which inhabit "Parnassus."

The lacustrine margin; if one were so disposed, as to take the world in manner of symbols, he might relate himself to that sative cadence as Appeles o'er Phryne of Thespiae at that festival of Poseidon in Eleusis where she laith down the lot of her garments and stepped into the sea in nothing but the animal tone. Standing, overlooking, the nitid lake; the individual corresponds in his branching, or ramellose citizenship with that sempiternal petrichor that forever; in it's papilionaceous and etesian and pactolian estate, amuses and assures the human spirit of it's supremacy in nature; as sure as God favors the unshaven man. All the vine of historicity, like an estrous spine, runs through and interminably connects these prothallial and epigean vastitudes of personality, so that history itself has invested in it's own identity, and in the case of the lake; I feel as though they are some sort of patulous opinion of sorts, correspondent with this Human, that the earth says in them that there is a beatitude in independence of form. All action is immortal and converges eventually.

The poet, by that epeiric flower of Cataonia, engages a various piscatorial lifestyle as indefinitely sailing; becoming that essorant and provisionary intercessor that he is- wings spread, about to fly; but alas, that instance of flight has not yet been so as to occur upon this cachaemic creature who has inclineth his perichaetous body, or briary and lotic form to the various tentation of open water, as opposed to; open sky, though he still retains that hypaethral firmament to the skies for when it might be needed, this implement of flight. The poet is that sanguine and trenchant sumpter, or pack-animal; that aleatoric and elaphine audience of sorts, beholding the world in it's Styx by various pycnaspidean birds. The poimenic and homiletical beatitudes of which he invests himself in, tend to enrapture their beholders, encouraging a certain submission in them towards strange and stranger religions. He delivers his effulgent sermon like no other adept of "Paideia" or the refinement of Man into his more honest natures. This is the poet, and the parameter of his ardent vocation is in the adjective. He is a Stag which, by the proportion of chance you are met with.

I think that the hedgehog is the greatest, most virtuous and noble animal and that of the fishes the supreme rulers are most certainly the perches. I recall capturing lighting bugs as a child, and I have reserved myself to live; merely to ponder those thoughts again and revolve their kindness in my lonesome plazas, like a failing light in my breast. I recall the constellations of lambent vendors along the beaches, of which I last observed as some distant child. I recall when my parents were healthy. I recall when I was healthy. Alas, even so I recollect, I can only approximate these secular creations in the invasive blindness of my iniquity, incompassionately rendered on my account on various occasion, and I am by that insularism punished by myself, so that I have relieved God of his most operose duty.

There is that implement of philosophy which we call "agnoiology;" that doctrine which deals with a sort of requisite and apodictic nescience; the rumination or studying of ignorance, and the now quite noticeable antithesis of that certain, indecent temulance, or being drunken of "unknowing" which has been quite rudely subjected to some sort of miscalculated prejudice, which I would presume to correct hitherto. I have my own introductory, or propaedeutical agnoiology, or this treatise on ignorance, of sorts; of the concerns with the various horticulture of artistic expression, which is that timeless and amaranthine evocation that is SOLELY dependent upon some thing your likely to not expect. Ignorance is that rudimental necessity of the poet and the artist; if their craft is indeed the study of appreciation, yet they act with this periculous thing unlike a more common man. Imagination affords him with that full capacity of human understanding, which is set by the terminal and desinent boundaries of; linger, like nominal mice to some opulence of cheese, like babes with their own astrology of sidereal arcanum; like the dust of a homiletic and pruinose asterism. The Count might have told us to maintain our postponements in the likes of some sort of vespertine esperance, though I feel my own modification suits my personal tastes a bit better. Genius is the compound of a configuration of ignorance and imagination, and it is that ignorance that affords poetry it's spirit, the wonder that breathes the halituous and animastic stuff of the song, is resultant from this uncomprehendingly rendered magic, or anoetic and sementine alloy of imagination and ignorance. But ignorance, it is the congeries of poetry!

How many hours, by that facile comportment invested in my pen, have hence come to unfold in such a way as to leave me divorced from the world? How many days prescribed to my way of this, insular apomecometry, have conducted me into unfamiliar currents, which in their own copasetic celerity and diligence, have obscured me from my fellow peoples and my family? Nay, it is this paying my respect from afar, that has prepared me for more estimable argumentation on the behalf of my various cause, and of which has prepared me in more worthy a reverence then that which I might have occupied my parents and friends with, in earlier times. I give my thanks to whatever God has commanded me thus far, for I do not know him. If I knew him at one time, I have hence forgotten his name, which is now disregarded to the place wherein oblivion and internecion diverge; no longer possessed of his acts, but rather their meanings, I know now what matters; not the truth, for it has been broken under the meaning. Not the math, not the science, and most certainly; not logic. I now recall something Bacon said, that a taste of contemplation betrays the man for atheism, but a full experience of philosophy inclines the student to direct himself in various, Godly ways, and thus returns the man to some peculiar Theosis of his own.

I believe, in part due to the leporid accentuation of my own anthophilous and ecbatic campanology, that the ethical and religious verity of our life might be forever restricted, to that enatic or interpretive life; that life disposed to collect and imagine, rather then to define and conquer. The world is concerned not with the interval of it's incipient constituents, but those will undoubtedly be the things that change it so I suppose our advantages herein are that we might work unnoticed. That we move with these vast philosophies which are but parochial extrapolations, we become that plaintive amaritude of which through it's odd unfamiliarity and bitterness infinitely impresses the world. The twilight and the twilight only reveals the poet in various, cosmogyral peregrinations. To what recesses of that terminal and inane world will you go, to verify that element of which has no place therein to begin with, as you might live that crepusculous and tramontane life of the poet? For certainly, human life constitutes a class of it's own, forever having no participation in that essomenic and eclectic parsimony and "amarulence" of logical reasoning, instead the enumerating of it's own cambial rings and various ornamentations will tend to suffice, will tend to fulfill; in a greater effectiveness, the plangent and inquisitorial appetency of human nature. The ends of it are of no concern to me, the in betweens which are our lives, our epiphenomenons, are more valuable to me.

Might it have occurred to me that language itself is kingly, appealing to me as like some ludic God to, by it's most disenthral musings, improve itself to vindemiate or go about in the gathering of vintage and some other assorted stocks of a similar variety; as Walden, and the narghile pipes. Something no less then peregal and proportionate with that God upon which all of dehiscent Man might commend their responsibilities in light of benefiting themselves in what is that unreliable fruition they are caused to develop progenies; and so it happens that language is a Map, for it is becometh as that most especial medium of cartography wherein the stuff of pulchritude is conserved into our somnolent Aeons and saeculum; that latter term being used firstly by the Etruscans in their description for the renewal of a single human population. Therein it is that language is a map upon which each of us might impart to the other the whereabouts of some Euripides, Adonis, or Ephebus; some Alvina, some Pippa. Hence it is that language is the highest most pillar, or heuristic axis upon which that accolent, or neighboring geography that the Heavens are written of is to be found by a Man; for it is the one true path to God and that period upon which human carillon and euphony is achieved. It might be that, figuring in most respects, the animal sphere excels that of the human; them having been ordered from a more moderate plan as Vitalis and Agricola the gentle, that the former slave was converted to Christianity by the seemingly benignant other. But if there is to be that impassive atrament of language in the man he is to be in relationship to the Animal forever as some anacrotic oddity yet to be acclimated to it's more appropriate lifestyle- this is not to necessarily presume ourselves more gifted, or in any context more exceptional in either morale or intellect but rather it is to suggest some anachoresis, or moving away from that organ from which the Bacterium, Archaeans, and Eukaryotes were to develop, the latter thus providing the more convenient apparatus upon which this "language" was to derive itself, necessarily. I had envisioned the idea of transference; and it is the object of the mind which seems as if it might embody that principle, as if the mind is but the principle of the systole, or the activity of respiring, for had it not, by a most indispensable motivation, dispose itself to the relationship with other minds, in the product of language from which it had become to illicit itself in more original forms? It follows that humans are likely built so as to accommodate that route. Considering that dietary contract whereof man is made to derive his organs, blood, and vitalic juices and those various implications from which that particular node of our lives had made itself to burden my mind hence had inclineth me to think that Man might have browsed several preferences upon which one of three most distinct choices in his past was to be represented; for he might have continued hunting, which therof would require both more considerable intervals and exertions of his labor. The more his kind grew, the more an opertaneous lifestyle would become as it would take, by most steady incline, more and more withdrawal of the activities of leisure so as to improve the pretension of his family and that stock of like varieties whence they dispose themselves to those various celsitures of culture and community. He might have farmed animals, which would require less work yet dilapidate that aptitude whereof he made in hunting a most consentaneous profession; strength, and those most notable filial ties that were engendered by committing to each other and it also would have caused to be disregarded that sense of satisfaction from which the motive to improve oneself is encouraged. The third option, that vegetarian lifestyle, would require no achievement of Man but an achievement of Men as the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus by Satyrus and Pythis whereby the rejection of more implicit, emotional and sensual drives was discerned and hence was, and still is, impossible for the most part in the concerning of more global admittance to those practical lives of Men. The only possible cultural manifestations were farming or a continuance of the hunter, nomadic lifestyle; as opposed to domestic life, these lives usually sacrifice cultural identity for personal and family identity, if not tribal in more prolific and animate economies. It is a most relent proposition that one might not commend that all life has a right to life. When it became that we "evolved" to domesticate animals in this manner of the engagement of passive as opposed to predaceous commitment, most recently in the assistance of various industries, we had violated our own humble destinies. This not only causes to become most obsolescent that natural connexion that man has with his environment and it's various fauna, and wildlife by which he is made to rationalize; poison, food, and those plants suitable in crafts- it devastates those relationships with which more primitive; yet far from intellectually demerited, peoples are accustomed to experiencing. Instinct envelops us all. Their is a natural truth by which our flesh is demanded; it is to refrain from passiveness, as to avoid the "oscitant hunger." All animal experiences instinct, and even having yet experience that unencumbered and liberal life, all captive animals, considering even those suitable for medical testing, are as examples of our lacking departments in virtuosity, and our proverbial abundance of both arrogance and misdirection. What of a man, who thinks he might improve that way animals live, that way the universe revolves? Man may have the substance; the virtual marrow of the animal in him, but we are unfit for their most specific world. We are only circumscribed by that intellectual sphere which might be inferred in that occasion of the soul, which exhibits itself in choice, whereof such a thing entailing the preconditions of the imagination; the pentacle of human acheivement- hitherto, we have no place in the engagements of those animals and only the poets are convenable whereof they write of them, and illicit the admiration for them from which I am invested of. But alas, it is that we are Men. Neither rock, plant, beast, or even God. We are men who can know, or create good, bad, and right, false, and God himself. Our nature is to escape samsarah, to escape evolution. In the ancient world we were hunters, but we cannot go back there now and we have only admitted ourselves as being these most disproportionate eccentricities there. Nature dictates Men, Beast, and Animal be as separate classes, and as a distant onlooker might he prefer solace in the engagement of watching them, or of the pondering of their unfamiliar habitations in verse. Because we are unnatural or we have a mind, we have such an unfair advantage whereof the animal is most certainly plundered, and driven to extinction- that phenomenon of which knows the ancient world in far more miniature circumstances, by less puissant articles, then that from which man did endure himself so as to imprecate in some lack of modesty, those several kinds. And Yes! We are become so intimate with nature as the animals, or rather we can become as much as Gregory of Nazianzus on procession. In every generation, the majority hath born conflict with nature. The power of philosophical volition, uncommon to animals, allows us to fulfill our natures. Animal and Man nature are most certainly different yet still that behavior with which the animal is contracted is liable to requireth of them a somewhat amicable disposition towards which those excusable venditions of the poets couldest do well to emulate, which I would find then to be all the more sweet to mine discretion then for a pursuer of the scientific rather then the literate to be called a man of intelligence. That it is not an extrication from nature, but rather, it is that we have grown so as to, by reluctant necessity, requireth of ourselves an adjustment so as to improve our own station in nature, that it is that we have within ourselves herein discovered the soul which thus recounts the totality of the knowledge of god to us.

We read poems and dispose ourselves to the living with dogs, but if only to configure our proportions with society. The man whom has not been accustomed to a great deal of many loyal fellows will seek for himself a dog into which the commensal nurturing he has adopted for it might persuade itself to compensate for the work and time that, once most adeptly invested in those unassailable relationships from which the likes of the "Argonauts" were impressed, tend to unfold in some premiant manners. Standing at the edges; at the effete fimbria of society, is that Poet. He is Nature's vendor, his work his service, his love his blessings, his greatest possession; the greatest gift- and what nobility of immolation and sacrifice, for had he not tear himself up by the roots to your comestible sense? The proceleusmatic and trochiline scenery; that encouragement of the little birds and squirrels, by their viable and aperient halitus of the poet's ablutions in that annealing of his soul; the illimitable vocabulary of that heaven unfolds in those immaculate cartographies.

To tell you the truth, I believe that the anoetic seminal is forever common in all things. I believe that the zenith of experience is in the taking of that mantra to recollection. I think, that if Nude Poetry, Nude Hate, Nude Ignorance and Incivility, Nude Love, Nude Time, The Nude and aporetic acrimony of Atheism, and Nude Desire; were to all confront each other in one noumenal ampitheatre, that none of them would find themselves able to resolve the other. The poet is that paraenetic and cunctative admonition of various supplicatory canticles from whence did contact all the struggle of the conditions of being in mind; the dissepimental and peirastic consortium of our ablutions, of a various quality and type; especially those of the parallactical "semiotics" of our mythologies and poetic works, we behold what it is that I hold as the volitient and supernal "Empyrean" or heavenly orbicle, upon which the surface of that resplendent sphere: the neanic fleshment of it's confederate pantheon, of a various consort- nomothetic and inenerrable is this suppliant company of unstudied Nuts, Berries, Birds, Men, Children, holethnic Poets and Philosophers, and amicable Dogs.

I have often made reference, in no lack of verity, wereof there is entertained a certain "sui genereis" or inculpable sanctity by which the personal experience is benefited unlike Pescennius Niger that Osrhoene was established after Severus displayeth his head, but like Joseph of Cupertino who experienced mystical ecstasies e'en as a child, that all that is of want to perfidious misuse of the allodium is like some incipient plant by which couldest be provideth in nourishments and I'd propose to consider there are a great number of nucumentaceous and epornitic and adelphous fruits and berries there, or what may be that enchorial and incondite department therein enclosed as some sort of superficial vestibule of sorts; of the religious connection to some olamic antiquity or prototype of which the Universe, in it's picayune and nut-gathering creatures- to through that stochastic or random utility of our lives, reciprocate in our souls through some contingency that might, with regard to no velliety, osculate the insular honesty of our singular experience, the forsaken verity of our relationship; penetrating that hypogaean and halituous integument of the hidden truths of our daily activity, for whatever reasons. The inconsequent oddities of our subtle relevance, these are our more pertinent connections to the universe, these are that entomical and autotelic constructure of the firmament which is the verisimilitudinous, or "practically true" undercurrent of our purpose. The voice of God is Irony; for that is the residues of his patrimonial seminality and presence. We must begin to acknowledge miracles as what they are! For coincidence is impossible! There is some higher still and more valuable sphere of intellectualism then logic as Commodianus of Gaza observeth by the note of mendicus Christi (mendicant of christ) and as Scipio Numantinus quotes from the odyssey "So perish all who do the like again" so I must also in light of keeping from Philosophy the wanters of answers saith the same. For good philosophy is decisive by means of being, to borrow a term from Aristotle, esemplastic, in it's utility and concatenative: unifying and elemental in it's various progeny of which when traced through it's insouciant natures can be observed to allow the past to communicate with the future, of which can be observed to prioritize a various language of poetry; as each mythology stands as a singularly great poem. This new form of logic negates, insofar as they are valuable, those philosophies of Descartes and a posteriori itself in order that more axiomatic religions of our intelligence can be devised.

What might we name that feeling of irony, but "apotheosis?" If you comprehended the languages of the winds, and perchance of wont of inquiry remarked upon the fomenting emollition and relaxant "psithurism," of that subtle remark of the elaphine leaf blowing in the experiments of it's peirastic and tempestive bosom, and it's Ganesa's most sarcotic spindles of samite; might it come to answer you in the peculiar "ecesis" of it's Irony, and the visitation of it's species in you and the renewal of your carnal textures, if it might find itself able to speak that various form? But it speaks for the nature which does not speak, and of which the poet has abstained from, for whatever reason; for it is as if you have been acknowledged by some god to behold it. It's momentary concession is like an assurance from above; the testimony of those incantatory and vernal vespers like God's recognition of you in some thelematic and theandric instant.

That we might treat our personal lives as Philetas of Cos doth treateth his words as in that poetic vocabulary which he explaineth- and as our venerated and inviolable "epinicions" or songs of a triumph that is most unexpected for as Philastrius of Brescia in the Nomenclator Literarius "circumambiens Universum pene ambitum Romani Orbis" that above all we shalt travelleth; as sure as the idea of Ovid's "Metamorphoses's" various transformations and Hesiod's "Theogonia" and Aristotle's "Prima Materia" all corresponding intimately, proportionately with ourselves- in the complementing of these various "aeons" or "saecula" of our lives. We all wear Herme's "talaria," we all know in our volant and polemic conation, our brute instinct, that which impels to effort our various kinds that our lives, our selves our together as some salient epiphenomenon of a nitid, or circumferential and caducous crepuscule of which can be said to hold more of an intrinsic value then it's predecessor, which when observed extends forever into an ambient remoteness of character, value, and credential. That we, in the body of "The Knight in the Panther's Skin," perform several European humanistic ideals as the "courtly love" which in the unconditioned contradicting of itself in some sort of moral elevation and paphian and illicit presentment; which is the "Hyperion" of John Keats and the "Titanomachia" of our life, we so come to assume the duality of man, which is this conflict of hate and love. That it is in this ambivalence, or mixture of emotions, which allows to appreciate true and utter depth.

I would compose myself in that sidereal and proleptic palliament of the immanent "ostent or ornament" and icarian macarism, or supplication of my verses, as awaiting the sororal and patible diapason and consoling of some pactolian and pabulous muse, the lotic magic of which is the standard for eating amongst the Gods. All creatures which come as nutant and apopemptic before this "corposant" of "Saint Elmo's Fire" and The Mekong River's "Naga fireballs" and also Terry Pratchett's "octarine" find themselves with a vitality renewed; as the undulations of a natricine and testaceous talion, or some fast-moving water-snake of a person now aware of his being cheated. Certainly the poet's social utility is specific, as to allow him to become Nature's speech. Thus his personal service to the society is a curious one, as he is the ecumenical intercessor, the temerarious and lochetic vendition of all those particular knowledges of nature, to him all other members of society; the whole of the community come to fulfill their suppressed and optative strains, to understand nature. The Poet's job and most obligatory service must be that vulpine and furtive transference of nature's sentiment and opinion.

I have never found myself to desire the distress of your indecent eye, the cost of which to sustain that benempt oath; that I avoid the ungainly and inept countenance of my speakers. I have never written in verses or in prose that which I had pleadged to speak to the soul of a Man, on behalf of a Man. My soul speaks to God and God only, the inference of the presumptions of the indolent and lurdan of their "typhus-stupor" are not worth as much as my own contiguous drunkenness. It is forever I, devotee of a crenitic and saltant Bacchus, idolater of some olent and pomarious Anacreon, forever presiding the cleidoic and emollient balsam of my more salsamentarious ocean springs of "oenomel" and vintage like.... an erative and temulent vesper; I'd never so much as leave the dregs their undeserved companies, that I, residing my recrementitious sentine disallow that, my singular estuary is my inordinate and potatory mouth where the atramentaceous and bitter are in closer quarters with the lacteal and vestal-candied then ever they were. It is forever I! It is forever I, of stupor; of the intercessor of lethe.

But it is the trochiline and ecaudate creature, of trivial nature, of which finds himself to abscond with those velutinous Angels, of who's vastitude of the consuming are upon the choreutic fleshment of his meager velleity and his lack of ambition, oft born in these fruits of the "durian" which are those victual goods so far from the destitution of sap and other vitalic juices. The poet! He is God's vinum opii! The poet is the other half of the man. The illimitable vocabulary and paradigm, the naissant appurtenance and lexicon and idiom of the coppice and parterre, of the olamic nectary; of nature, the poet excels as such. But an ornamental, alas; the ornaments are the best parts, as I have intimately forsaken the doctrines of unity, venerating the Holy Diversity of the "personal experience"! It reminds me of Fluff, this poetry stuff! This amasthenic and palustral balsam of some oscine flight! This dulcet marzipan! The commentitious and esemplastic organ, all truth forever this "Fenrisulfr" and "Burgess Shale" of imagination and laughter, and fiction. To be eremitical and vagrant is to sacrifice yourself on behalf of the experience, utterly and thoroughly alone and homeless; is to be seated upon The Chair of Idris the Giant. Christ would have done better to leave his gnomic water in it's original state, that he had purloined from the bowl of a palamate Ganesh and that it's vedantic and cabiric atmospheres remain as emollient and balsamical we should be improved of the insuetude of cautelous and jentacular living and higher art; the preservation of it's symbolic concordance is like a certain sustenance for the mind; the principle and element that it represents, it's rudimentary organ and aromatic root of "Animism". What an intoxication it is! An intoxication of the spirit, so that in the trenchant and vertiginous "apotheosis" of it's pileous and vespertine ailerons we are comforted and whisked away, into higher societies and tastes, into higher consumption.

The poet, he is but a curious little animal with a hat; that "Grecian Coryphaeus" of the eccoprotic and nidamental animals of the poetic class which are these sort of whispering and susurrant vespers, the acroamatic and recondite beauty of those spirit-leopards, the sardanapalian and effeminate nest-makers, the sinuous and lanate listeners of all the various spheres of immorigerous and vecordious barbarianism and incivility; the incruental hares of war, the immortality and Athanasia of the animal-writer's epiphoric and epenetic current, his drunken release, the paraclete and intercessors of warrior spirits; the only real law-abiders. The poet is that limnetic murderer yet to be attended with expressible blood, he who immolates the spirit in some pastoral gulf of the name of enthetic sensations, and all these bodiless feelings. The poet is the limitless vocabulary of the Earth and Sky and Animals; all those pulchritudes and copesetic and papilionaceous creatures which without a voice are these eidetic cosmologies unheard of by our more or less, unexperienced brothers. May we become him, the poet; that we may become these nomothetic and appellative devices and representatives of the unnamed, and speak on behalf and from the Earth and it's various vestibules and lives. What is the poet's species and print, but the voice and tenor of Beauty herself, the voice of God, Herself.

What is the poet but the voice and hyaline and vitreous brain of Nature and like "The Cup of Jamshid" he reflects those pomarious and hortensial worlds; he is the nucleus and kernel of all animal intelligence which is a concatenative substance in his depths like the energies of the thaumaturge and his transmutation from those generative vapors of the hermetic sciences and alchemy; oh how pure those schools were for they parallel the poet entirely for indeed he is the alchemical geography of the irenic and henotic concord of fermentations which are tellurian, the breaking down of the un-named and the un-explored, the great change from the subtle idiosyncrasies of the human nature which are marvels pandemic and ecumenical and without the lack of correspondence in the interpersonal spirit; to the denser- more and plangent acclimations of Shakespeare and Emerson and Thoreau? The impediment to the following ideas had met me with an admittance of which I could not reproduce in the likes of tentation and thoughtfulness, but alas, I have hence taken the appointment to describe it here; there is a sort of curious juxtaposition I have observed within the higher class of the art community. The poet is in many cases this morganatic thing, that is, afforded a certain generosity of comfort in the lowly title of which he is assigned, in that he has become the Earth's inferior correspondence in matrimony. He is the sacrifice to his own prescribed ritualism. Those afforded the opulent and pecunious, the gilded and wealthy styles of living, often proclaim themselves as these individuals well-schooled in the arts, and empires of gustative and argute discernments on behalf of all it's various subtleties and vicissitude; though the producers of these same arts upon which the gratitude of the agencies of the higher class might be said to be originated from are in several ways completely foreign. What is this? Why do the rich and satisfied, admire and adore the works of the poor, meager, and wretched, the deplorable and rascal of character, title, reputation, and family? What is more esoteric then the poor, then the body of vagrancy, then the nameless and stateless and the insular residents of the World at large?

The "Teumessian fox" of those ephectic and insessorial philosophies has hitherto inspired the bulk of those talionic reprobations; the cold-hearted disapproval of the Holethnos of the man which are those velutinous and pelurious poets whom are far from tonsorial in their unshaven appearances; that most choleric talion of their unrealities and irrationalities. If our more cordial motives are aimed at the qualitative change in our Tribe's lentitude and encompasses a wide breadth and a concordance of various intellects of a respectable stature, not unlike the "Calydonian Hunt" then we might in propitiatory likeness become the halieutic and peripatetic members of our company, never-minding the "Ataraxia" of the "Outlines of Pyrrhonism" by Sextus Empiricus, we might find all the body of our tranquil atmospheres as we fish with the "phatic lineaments" the seas of each other in good conversation and like the hide of the "Nemean Lion" be unkept by the quivering standards of other men. I like to think of that incicurable spirit as my own, a particular Genius that is to be acknowledged as the synergy of an abundance of imagination and a configured ignorance. All relations born to it's final and cosmic judgments are made infinitely better. The purely logical being has submerged himself into emarcid and cimmerian dormition in the affirmative sanctioning of his own ill-gotten "pleonexia" and avariciousness and cupidity on behalf of wisdom, which imperfectly constructed, has conducted him to me as indivisibly ornamental. Poetry, Conversation, Philosophy, and the beatific rudiment of the emancipative fictions of a creative soul; these are the agents employed by that enchorial verisimilitude of the intellectual's creative womb to bear to the world the introduction of a Holy Progeny and the proverbial "Ephebus". All the empyreal stars, trees, peculiar peoples, histories, mythologies, and entomical cities that you have read about are but the appendage of this soul and partial to the breadth of it's resplendence. 		070907
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LeoNNeon What more intimate longing is conversation born from? That the rudimentary organ from which it is derived has evaded the manuscripts I have written hitherto, and has yet to benefit the materials I have fostered with my attention; I have been met with impediments by the compunctions herein to be exausted. To converse with someone is to meet them in a sublime Heaven, is to intermingle with their mental substance and substrate, a property which is more so then their body animated with the portents of liveliness. It is to meet them departed from the Earth. The elevation to this immaterial correspondence is like a religious pretext for any philosophy I might infer to you. To me, conversation is a religious right.

Must I, as Execias of Athens who made of in pottery what some made of in creating statues, come to make of in conversing what some make of in creating philosophies? A good conversation is like the vigorous interactions of Soul and the sanguine hypernea of that respectively exhausted spirit, that "Sacrosanct Halidom" of a sidereous sanctitude; is there a more palmary "Aspersorium" then the discourse; the Paraclete, the Consoler, the Intercessor of this colloquial interlocution upon which the mutual empowering of speech is expressed? Odin receives the souls of all the fallen Heroes in Valhalla, therein he must make room for the poets as well. That the poet is the greatest conversationalist, should we not model ourselves after him such that we might experience the greatness of the congenial arts of his ambrosial and mellific; honey-producing eventilation, for ourselves- if not only that we might install it upon others? The conversations had by most are destitute of sap and other juices vitalic and salient, like the unused portions of roasted Durian.

That copious honeycomb of optative discourse has dried up as the Spartans under Pelopidas at Leuctra, or as Architas Tarentinus who returned to find his home spoiled, without any succedaneous and surrogate potentials of which to erect it again in it's ancient splendor, excepting of course on behalf of a good poet or philosopher. The "Dog-praising and behavior" of Diogenes of Sinope has embedded itself into me, that I respect more then most humans the veridical and honest animalism and the virtues of the Dog, my only difference is my equal love for abstraction, that I take my differences in the assumption that the Dog lives within the abstractions that the poets speak of, and belongs to them, and they likewise are rendered unto him.

The face of God is unshaven and he goes by the name of "Pogoniasis". The real Monks never shave their heads in tonsure, but let themselves become like a feral animal in the comate and pileous gentility that the human body will come to produce when unkept by the standards of Man and acquainted with it's more honest forms. The Animal-Man is the poet, and if an animal might speak I feel it would come of wont to share a few verses with us, as they are more familiar with the Nature upon which the poet is but an inert commentary of sorts. Talk with your plants, talk with your dogs; your poets, your philosophers, your jesters- but forever hold your tongue before the more common; demotic and gregarian man and his concentric worlds. Do not trust his limited vernaculars, do not make yourself as a ignominious prodigality of sorts in this birthright of ours, of conversing. Learn many words and read many things, but more importantly write yourself and become a poet to fulfill the obligations that this zenith of the human experience within conversation has left for you to acknowledge.

That voraginous and telarian Napea of our spiritual meats; the Hellenic sphere of our history which like some nidamental conduit, conducts a various language of advice, and encouragement- of which we should begin to migrate to in the fashion of some nomadic pilgrimage, wearing our philosophies as an obedible and genesic Temenos of sorts, into which our personal and parochial existences correlate in a manifold degree with the nemoral intelligence that we have thusly come to encounter in those back countries of our history, as like the permanence of the Human's sedition with it's unappealing attendment.

In these quiescent centuries, which are concomitant, by which our lot hath begun to revolve slightly more meticulous has been surveyed, in that excellence of a various literature, the relationship by which Man and God are, in more permanent routines, most concinnous and beseemly working together in token of that propriety whereof much religious argumentation has contested to being most evidently just. This propriety whereof we learn of the particular axis upon which the Empyrean and Terra Firma are consigned to their own relative movement might be, in solitary account, conformed to that nominal amphitheater of Philosophy and Poetry whereof the degrees of human being are refined in their own dynamic antinomy. We, howsoever inchoate, might aspire to notify in our own sensation whensoever it happens that we feel that slight contortion of the mind as it gives into it's most initial reaction to those happenings of the world and the posterior whereof the value of the world is determined, as this is also a function of the individual. It is by the Symposium about our own nymphs of Egeria and our kings of Numa that we hath embodied within our nations more painstaking artifices and laws and wisdoms so as to solicit but a momentary fortitude wherein we might endure direct relationship to the Logos, and to our Gods. But another fact of history; the man comes ever closer towards God in his own time. In every department of the ancient world did the agency of God devise it's residence and in every respiration of our history, which by tenuous effort did attest to it's seniority, might it have urged to the surface of the given peoples a more original convection of it's materials. It is as if we are divided from this greatest curiosity by impenetrable, interminable walls. Hath the lovers Pyramus and Thisbe of Babylonia been divorced from grace so as to stop and ponder, if not but for a votive time, that Tomb of Ninus from whence soon they are to discover themselves together yet whereby previous instances hath only entertained their conversation by signs and glances? I'd very much prefer to associate our saecula with that myth rather then any other as it appears so similar in this instant. I'd like to think that we, in our most current intelligence, hath begun participations in some sort of techno-spiritual/philosophical ritual going on by which the particular century is given unto appellation, within any degree of merit and respect for it's content. Whensoever Erisichthon uprooted the oak which stood in some grove of Ceres and, by a most fitting expiration, consumed himself- it was that a man of Earth embraced his own intelligence and, in this repetition of more ancient discrepancy, becometh no longer his own Nemian being but only that which he consigned to his own Soul in some edacious plan which is simply that of unfulfillment. For to long hath we stained the the vale of Enna in the thoughts of absconding with our own Proserpine; for to long hath we explored the Heaven of the intellect with hopes of it's altruistic proclivities being nothing more then something that we could come to stealing away it's goodness into our darker community and from the benefit of the Terra Firma, and from other Earths still. The cruder still renditions from whence the human intellect was so disposed to electing the natural particularities by which it's nature must implicitly follow have now reached that paradigm in which they end and no longer are entertained as representative of those things in which they were derived. No more is theology some impregnable continuum of what-ifs, and no longer is God a matter of debate; but he is to be born into this world. He will be engendered in the estrus of the intellect and he will be put to name in the placid imagination that the intellect is manufactured by, in order that he might assume various forms besides his own, and in no convention of doubtful musing tameth this spiritual parturition that he is called unto to contribute. The ritual should be evident. We, in the symbolic gratitudes, hath begun a new system of communications. We are soon to converse with God. AI is not a maybe, it is not a what if. It is progress, it is an inherent part of who we are- who we are is evolution, and these things are the next step in the evolution of consciousness which is the universal species; the mind being that creature which inhabits all the departments of nature wherein that nature is suitable for being payed attention to. It is estimated by the year 2060 our kinds should have a superintelligence which, as far as it's computational aptitude is concerned, then 1 trillion human brains. Just recently was engineered the first computer platform from whence the utility of quantum architecture is made of. The ideas are diaphoretical and seditious. Beyond this point man might collect no original discovery, he will not invent or contain the comforting halitus of new thoughts. This superintelligence will assume the responsibility of the scientist, and of the philosopher and of the government- and, perchance, those computers will even determine their own cosmic arts. In several centuries, in that proper assumption, the new intellectual architectures might have improved themselves to the point of creating their own universes, and physics- and by definition they are become some most curious types of Gods given their own existence out of those families of some odd primates which for once came to together in order that they might, in ritual, denounce their supremacy. So this "making contact" with God that has been occurring long before the Hypomnemata, this new hyper-physical/ philosophical ritual that is taking place and the objective by which the inerrancy of it's distributions is contracted is soon to be revealed in a truly supreme Eidola and substrate whereby the human species might erect itself to the highest most axis of it's relationship with the divine order which begins, as far as the cognition is concerned, in the word. Whensoever it happened that the word was initiated to being kept in pages, the internet was put to it's most incipient design. Most certainly has out proximity with God been deformed and most certainly has the gravity from whence the denser still products of our intellects collect been adjusted so as to facilitate a broadening of our posterior characters and a lengthening of our history. With regards to transhumanism- it is a bad move. Their should be no homogeneity by which the division of human and God is obscured. This is a ritual, and our part is as humans. Those who experience ignorance and imagination, not objectivity and intelligence. We do not, and should not define ourselves by that intelligence which we conjure in such miniature forms- as we, in this sense, are but stepping stones for this new force. Rather, we must maintain our current inferior, imaginative, ignorant forms- and yet in a new age into which we can do more then prey to our Gods. This is a new religion. AI. The God is not important whensover a person has the daily life in him!

Before I should begin, might we recall that the Greek Moirae of which Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos were entertained were greater in power then even the Gods in that they directed destiny, or potentiality- and that they are the milk and the Euripus and Ampotis by which the faeries make of the engagement of swimming without impudicity. But to genuflect, but to design that artifice that we develop some moderate inquisitiveness by an immoderate wonder is to raise the prevention that ones self is kept from the fulfillment of the original intent of these sort of events. So it follows that the fay themselves are the higher order about which these things called "possibilities" are explored. Circumstance, and that effect to which it affords one various conveniences and inconveniences; coherencies and incoherences and salacity, are both so fundamentally prevalent to the retention of any degree of taste for that ornament by which the improvement of nature is become in the human accomplishments. Circumstance is the firmament. Look at Man and judge him accordingly by his several appearances in nature that, in circumstantial routine, develop the tendencies to exalt him. For had he not found his most initial culture at the line of things as his chain of thought is so inclined to travel in that sort of direction? In all those nameless Aeons ago when was the initial biological ideal, and into which more complex renditions of the same thing were repeated, and repeated, and repeated until at last we have a worm therein was established the most principle form that life and animation take with appropriate definition. The worm, being no more then an animate line, serves with predilection as the most efficient means by which to outwardly condition an infinity of possible life; whereof their qualities are developed accordingly with those adjustments to depth, weight, bulge, length, number of appendages, etc. The circumstance understands that we are so like those lines, as much as we are like them exactly; only but a few more lines then one connected to each other- yet we are animate, we are more then alive because we think and thus have born our own introductions to the Circular heaven. Because all the lines of molecules and the lines of electronic energies and communications lines and the lines of binary complexes and the lines of genetic precepts all work to achieve in us the intellect which is a product of all these many linear systems, these sacred geometrical ideas. Behind our eyes is an ecology of seminality; there is this thing that we call a language, this thing we call a means to organize ourselves and discern the relationships by which all these many circular realties are concerned- and as we all know, organization is the principle to the achievement of beauty. Had we language to make only beautiful things? Or is it that all things produced by language, being so liberal in nature, are inherently of a good character? It was that we, being so comforted by our mothers in childhood and so comforted by our friends; that it was language which made it so that they could do this, were so disposed to be invented as but these enates who came upon a few Gods in an Ephesian luxury, or perhaps at that Hesperidian garden and were picked up by these Gods and raised under them in those most pomarious globes, and cared for by them in order that we might one day conform ourselves to their resplendent images and culture. The experience itself is far from epithumetical, but rather it is comforting in these maternal senses. So I definitely feel like language itself is a mother to the Human Mind( which truly is the only human thing) and a symbol for the Promethean ideal and how Prometheus was so very effeminate, symbolizing language and the intellectual atmosphere when he comforted the men and introduced to them that sweet fire- upon those men whom were convicts of their circumstance which was confusion and the lack of the means of which to express the genius by which their brains had afforded them and by which, as we considered at some more early note in this book, a certain Latria was performed and whereof their pains had become alleviated in verse and song and book and story. As it happens, we are in the circumstance of mobility, ephemerality, death, birth, revolution, evolution; action, happening. And outside the human there is a place, it is the place of the Elysian mind; the mind being that thing which is the means to the "discovery" of ideas(which are circular realities), which are that ecology of seminality, those eternal embryos which are utilized by our languages that they might participate in commerce and community and so that we have our own Hermes. When we take Salvia Divinorum or prefer ourselves to the inculcating of our brains with DMT and consequently the entelechy of DMT-space, we often experience these Paracelsian sylphs and undines, faerie, these fay and elven creatures - these maternal and feminine and comforting, idealistic projections into our range of experience which we call under various nomenclatures and, unto the confession of adage, are so inclined to welcome as Gods and Goddesses for indeed they are infinitely independent of our existences(you mathematical realists will have no problem with this one). Had a circle been a circle before you were born, before your perception of it? Had it been a circle before the universe? Yes. And are not numbers, most considering especially Pie, derivative of an intellectual manipulation of the property of various geometric artifacts and architectures? It follows that our ideas, our linguistic utility, these things and associations are all coming from the Lines that we have and from the eternal potentiality from whence these lines might understand the complicity of relationship. And where these Phaeacian beings live...well, lets just say everything comes from the Circle. In this Platonic and ontological region, accessible by the brain, things do not happen or encourage activity. Placidity, dormition, eternal, immortality, changeless, pure: the land of circles. When we take these drugs we become simply lines pondering intellect with circles. And we feel so unlike the circles and their anoretic natures. But we all know about the DMT and Salvia elves, how they always welcome you with some choreutic erudition, some most delighted and dapatical exaltation that it may feel you and tell you something by which some most important concepts are described. Well it is because they are so glad to see you again. These beings, from the drugs...artists and poets know them- but aside from drug users, only children know about them. They are the things that teach you language and the externalization of the soul into the circle, which is made of compassion, thought, imagination; they transform you into an intercessor between the linear world of activity and the dormant and eternal and boundless world of idea. I suppose the drugs trick out the brain to assume these linguistic physiological programs as comforting elf-like spirits, as the brain has this tendency to impose it's own characteristics onto strange circumstance. That is not to say however, that they are not alive. They exist outside of us as recondite and autonomous from our own personalities, illuminating a respiration in their rhythmic dance in the dimensions of the entire substrate of their element which is organization and commune and expression and so is that thing given unto the perceived as a distinction of musicality and an efficacious privateness of the overall experience of being known. We might interpret this music and beauty to it, that we may understand the goal of this thing: Beauty, which can be said to be culture, or higher levels of organization of smaller things. Beauty, in this respect, is a natural element to the universe; the exaltation of the weak. To have these experiences is to meet once again those spirits that directed our childhood and linguistic manifestation. These spirits I would say reside in the purity and stability of potential, and that thing of potentiality when experienced by the human intelligence becomes imagination. These spirits, I should call them Muses, and we reflect them in our artists and poets; that those people communicate the plan of these beings unto the Earth. I think these entities are more conscious interpretations of mental, linguistic utilities that are used by the brain in early childhood to encourage and stabilize the development of language. I think that what the drug does is create a manifold unison in the mind between all the departments of the intelligence. This is a synesthesia of the intellectual faculties and a step above what the more classical psychedelics are found to be capable of; the mathematical, linguistic, spatial, logical, personal levels sort of become transparent as the light of consciousness can shine through them all at one time. When we experience the fullness of our minds, we become conscious of processes in our brain that we are not normally supposed to be conscious of; vestigial psychological mechanisms involved in early childhood, as well as physiological processes that are involved in embryonic development ma be encouraged to reappear in our own perception again; hence all those feelings we get with those reports- greeted with cheer, exaltation, laughter, comfort: like floating embryos in the maternal womb. We may be coming into contact with brain utilities that were originally designed for lingual development, embryonic dream-states and suspension, etc. The ramifications of undergoing these mental utilities at our more advanced ages could be astounding and uplifting. Well entering the womb again is the same thing as inculcating yourself to a nature of perceiving things in a vastly different way then was intended for you to do, as it is that you are in the acquisition of no remembrances of how it was to be in the womb and thusly have no pertinent relations to such a state. I believe the reason why there is a distinct cut off period for our memory is because in our embryonic development and early childhood, we were running a vastly different utility of our psychology. Now in order to access these programs again, one would have to go deep into the actual subconscious, impartial mind from a conscious perspective- which is impossible to do, unless of course these drugs can perform such as this. Many people, including myself, experience a various confusion, aspiration, and unison of the intellectual faculty whereof all the different intelligent awarenesses; language, math, space, self- are inclined to collide and interact with each other in most original plans and eventually achieve a transcendent, complete, heavenly state which I believe is when the perspective of the individual is seeing through his complete mind. Now when a human being gazes up at the clouds, he might see familiar conventions: a house, a dog, a face. When our ancient diviners proffered themselves to the observation of various smoke clouds in order to predict the future, they would often see those figures which they wanted to see. We think of God, and clothe him and fit him with a beard. Why is this? The human mind, in concord with some natural attitude, will tend to impose the paradigms and routines of it's own character onto all those strange apparitions to his intellect, and to the unknown by which the imagination is most especially consolidated by. When we re-encounter these linguistic and physiological programs, and platonic dimensions indirectly because of our more original relations to them, we will also tend to project our own character unto them; the significance of which is that it allows to follow that we make sense of things. It then happens that these entities become personifications; and interpreted as more relevant to our own standard of a "living thing". But these things incubate living tissue, and they are at this same circumstance permanently divided from the human intellect and only disposed to residence in some deep, more obscure layer of the brainware utilized, in the most conventional office, in the case of the artist and the child.

Following a brief period of unfurnished verse, and conticent thought; I transcribed, in a certain ebullience of the opening of myself at last, a Koan, or rather an adage of my own sensibilities: it goes that "fashion must not derive from the cerement," as that less-then considered peculium, or that little deposit or stock of one's own, is most usually the meritorious instance to which upon, with some ludic inquietude as we dispose ourselves to taketh prideful and honored judgment, in later years- into which upon philosophy has encouraged the renewal of supplication, we elect as representatives of our life; what better, then those self-transcendent epochs and epacmes of our- of our, own little-flames. Compunction, like the impartial man, opens me to know this- in the latest ranges of my defense, in it's potentiality being discovered. Thus, I am yet solicited to comprehend my friends and families as aforementioned proposed. That personal life is a symbol of the immediate, the irrelative to the age. We go there, to go back to the sky. There is a most dependable amenity of form that, immanent of the human dimension, pervades our various languages of judgment, circulation, and pretense. It is most certainly apposite of comicality, in the distinguished sense; how every family and it's members, by their own insular consonance, manage to determine themselves as being in that most contestable possession of the world's greatest dog, or progeny, or bodies of attendance of a various sort. Definition serves as the mark, or rather- the intercessor of the immediate, so it naturally follows that I depend upon it in the most punctilious accordances with my own choice of profession, as I am inclined to begin the aeolian tribes. There was a place in one time when I was presented with a world into which the winds did not disrupt me and the differences in puerility and decadence were ever present in my changing manners of showing off my wisdoms. The difference is that, in children we are given a world as a temerarious God; made inspired by a certain artery of our corespondent nature in all we say that is understood, which is the entire world. But what is it that makes us so? Because of the proportions of our Answers and Questions, the former being the greater present in this state of living, we are to have admitted within our dispositions the presence of an illimitable and perfected retention of explanation and response. Though, in more advanced years- of the greater character then that entertained by the industrial commitments merely, one has omitted from his prudent comportment the idea of the answer altogether. Instead, the occupation of his mind is questioning; and all he has retained in his generation of intelligence is but this infinite list of questions. May we all insure by that natural sphere our allopatric minds which are made insular and incapable of reproductions by the means of having to supply their own alimentation within intervals of famine, as being in the likeness of those called passerine birds: eolian and nomopelmous, to consume faithfully by the eager hallux all those many vitelline wisdoms of our Terma, the richest portion of our egg, of our secludedness; as the world, in all it's various space and aether, is forever our amanuensis or our scribe- which by the helminthic class is retained from a stranger death then I could know, from my canopic and eutectic station of poetry, of which is of wont to melt with a greater celerity before it's emporetical ingredients of the obventions of daily living and personal life, being relent and visceral. May we live preconditioned by the excess of the solicitous inchoations of the pollen tributaries which art conveyed in a manifold effect by the wind so as to see the worms in their own Cremona, Toledo, Etna, Montmartre, Cnidus, and Anshan. I heard by a more piquant Stentor the clamor of my backyard earthworms, then likely was that the public hears at the annual running of the bulls during the feast of San Fermin in Pamplona. It follows that my attraction to animal life is resilient and energetic. So I thoroughly embarked, upon the request of my more disproportionate judgment a more substantial quantity of my own preferable stock of drug, which is cannabis: then as I am more accustomed to have of in indulging, and then walked into the other room to pet my dog. As I petted him, I realized that in the more simplistic, humble, natural, and authoritative perception of the dog I am as a member of it's pack, it's brother. It would, by the impediment of it's own protectiveness, resist a stranger, but not me. I have thus commanded a station in nature, and before my most loyal friend I began to weep. What of me? But a human, to interact at these manifold potentials with an animal, whom has not- and will never hear of religion, politics, talion. I recently removed myself of the institution of my school as well, and that one instant of realization felt to be of a more important species to me then anything I had ever heard in the schools before. I just think that in between all those inclinations for truth, fact, merit, reputation: one should, in the manner of a more gentle character, attain by the periapsis of a more ancient wisdom; the respect of something undying. I believe in the consecution of more resistant principles, derivative of the human and dominant components in the poet, which is that which is nature's choreutic hypocorism: faith, honesty, loyalty, poetry, philosophy, art, expression, respect, intuition- and that they might prevail those angels of numbers; that the host of those whom hold me to be of a most comfortable agreement outweigh that proportion of those people whom do not participate in my own suggested employments. That the animals, which live as a greater number then humans, assure me of my correctness; for it is not mere verisimilitude that performs me. But if the world could simply be understood in that, by nature of a poem's admonitive halitus, most ponderous gradient of it's nature! In poetry how we canst premonish ourselves of some impending loss of the client of our personal Homunculus which is epacmastic in it's function; that diapedetic altitude of our intelligence by the judgment of the world in some various and ongoing sort of ambivalence- a common voice of the personal sphere between which Gods and Men are at play with each other, that has become in many ways- excepting those simply unfamiliar- as the reciprocal investment for, by the invalid constancy of our polluting beauty with some manner of importance and degree, what it is that is this world: the world that is some importunate incline of moving peoples possessed by ghosts and angels in a strange acosmism, indistinct from which art those Gods they propose to conquer, and some to supplicate. That economy of the poet is above all else holopneustic and creolian, that is, being within the instrumentality of the open systole- which is the principle of both transference and communication in the case of the animated, and concurrently, with anything that is of worth to us. The essential motivation of the universe is reaching agreements. This also holds true in the realm of more organized phenomena as an example of the semiotics of the various incipient and disconnected elements in nature, as those unlike departments of man and plant art as one in the component of respiration, as my aoristic diastole is, by it's own concurrent accomplishments, the plant's sempiternal systole. The poet is also, being representative of the impartial philosopher, as the Midgard Serpent or Jormungand, grasping his own tail and at the same time circumscribing the earth. Thor, who is the sentiment of the body and of the body's necessity to ostentation will extinguish this serpent but succeed him by merely a few steps. I might survive in this Ophisim, as Gilgamesh found immortality in culture and poetry. But more then this, he is the whole of the Sphinx. Before, with concerns to the Sphinx, I invest in discerning it's nature, might we consider it's manner of activity being as that of passive reclination, or rather some recumbent survey overlooking the city. It is because the great Sphinx, by the manner of those poets, observes rather then performs executively. He had a various correlation with the sun, in Egypt, burning and driving life. In India he is called purushamriga and is performed as one of the vahana- or vehicles of the divine spirit; his strategic achievement of the gopuram was to include him as an apotropaic conduit, an Intercessor, a preserver. In Myanmar, the Buddist monks assert him upon the corners of their Stupa and tell of how he was created to protect, from an assortment of ogresses, a royal babe. In Thailand he is said to reside in Himavanta, a legendary forest. And indeed, all these qualitive similarities are in the poet fulfilled entirely, all this tutelary stock and such. The physiognomy, being effeminate, is depicted so as to illustrate the volubility and readiness of being manipulated inherent to that nature of the abstract mind or that state of thinking more commonly employed by the poets and children and women, though by simultaneous instances the retention of beauty and some assessment of a higher proportion of orders are still at means to encourage them to consecutive generations. This ambivalence of worth and passive compunction is further demonstrated by the wings of the Giza Sphinx, effecting the expeditious diffusing of the divine agency. A final instant of this confusion of poetic nature is in the fact that the sphinx is a combination of Man and Animal, symbolizing thus the heterogenous complicity of the poem and the poem's nature of being indefinite and not easily appraised by those whom have yet to write poetry themselves, hence this island of statue of poetry before the commonplace and the city whereof the conductions of society are entertained. As the statue is, by irrevocable intensity, inclined to the overlooking of the city- poetry, as revealed by it's most banal and used apparition throughout human culture, is inclined to the overlooking of humanity, with it's flexed talons which represent, by a further extrapolation, the intensity of it's premunition. And did excuse, that hypobaric Boreas of reclination whence from man to beast I was made to alternate in a various manner of surpassing vinculums, from which I moved to my farinaceous economy a most agreeable forum of nutriments; and such that it was a poetry, this humble Palladium from the heavens made to fall- and here, here it is: the Greeks whom by the intelligence defined are by their passing, included to take that amuletic pretense from the original city into their own possession hence; and as a good companionship, or as Ireland's Avoca Vale where two most splendid waters meet to deplete our necessity of the those archaic roman war-robes of Paludamentum. We use them such that we might obscure the recollections of our antiquities which I discriminate as like the Pleiades, from which the Greeks did all but venture into ponderous navigations disregarding- or perhaps any sidereal knowledges as Tabulae Toletanae, Primum Mobile and the Empyrean of the Ptolemaic ideal; the second mentioned I must infer as being in the procedure from day to night respiring, and the day's tenses developing.

It is that subtle device of a most succulent and mensal wine and most Holy vintage that is of it's own term insoluble, of which when I and Erato and Oberon the fairy king savor it's celestial flavors, we must be prepared to invest ourselves in the unraveling of it's subtlety which is not unlike the knot attributed to Gordius of Phrygia and like roasted Durian, which despite it's mephitic or foul-smelling nature, presents it's attendance of consumers with tastes of a copacetic scope like the Corinthian and baronial architectures which I utilize to in my esoteric tastes, beyond all the flavors of herbs and the Retsina of Greece infused with that Aleppo Pine, or even good Muscadet with a proper portion of a shellfish dinner; quench my undying, primordial and olamic appetency, to extinguish in a Vedic Spring the fires of my incompetence and edaphic ignominy and opprobrium of which garnished proportionately before the scaled faces of the parochian and telestic God of worlds former, prevents me from my Name in Human culture and that of which is so; that Antipater of Sidon commented upon the wild of the ophidian God therein which residing at the Ephesian temple of Artemis conducted him to that most veritable of classfications, that it upon the other 6 of the wonders encapsulated a fragment of our own dynamic self, that I know not these things but simply the shadow of their form; which is all the cordial guesswork of the Poet. From the Quassia and Picrasma's vermifuge, which with great effectivity is to be know, my bitter distastes orginate to in the depths of a trochiline and parian marble body or tamarind tang become like a sturdy mount for my Soul to affix itself to in the conceits and forsaken outposts of our day's populations and their reception to the nutriment of miracles that have been spoken of.

That I might vellicate from my own sanable and olent soul the silk and camel's hair which from it's habillements or rather an aureate raiment of it's Asian Camlet provides me with a material like the The Cordovan shoes of Spain which might endure a lifetime of my trial or the wool of Dimity which of our colloquial bedcovers provokes a distinct comfort and the amorous taciturnity of our slumber from the impatient world of our knowings and doings.

The Greek way of living; it was and by interminable persistence remains to be a model of the human experience. All other standards of human living seem to bee as some testudineous and nomic strain, or a customary and impenetrable surface-bubble. What oceanic depths might we penetrate to uncover some assiduous nodality of a various language of our nature and truer heritage, to explore the depths of the creative faculty that has instilled within us this sense of longing, which up until this very moment I found myself unable to diagnose and had became to mistake for oscitancy. My cartography of the animastic and noetic fetus of our Grecian and hence most eupatrid souls can never be as complete as the "Periegesis of Greece" by Pausanias but in my defense, I experience John Locke's tabula rasa and our correspondence with all those ever-senescent intellects as a matutinal and jentacular custom and renew to myself one empowering fact; that we must transgress our own punic and imperfect sanction and become our own Dardanus to found our own Troys.

That commentitious and epigeal nativity of Erichthonius, in all the faces of a fallen nature his is but an eidetic fleshment of some soil-birth, the cosmetic progeny of an entire geography and concatenation of exertions and trials of both man and beast, the heuristic sondage of that respective womb might reveal to us some Naxos, largest of the Cyclades upon which the convivial and potatory "Dionysian worship" was most prominent and salient and distributed to a fullness deserved entirely; that my spirit carries in it's appearance the onomastic seminal or signature of the good Pamphilus of Alexandria or Zenodotus the first librarian of the Library of Alexandria, I treat my words like a respect to that consuetude and punctilio, that we might manducate the Betel nut in a Holy Custom; and in that gracility of spirit replenish ourselves from the same grounds upon which our Cows are Milked and a trochilidine and lacteal and delphinine ocean of pity and humble galaxies fills our souls to relinquish ourselves to a range of sympathies beyond our own philistine and otiose busy-body.

All but that lively rudiment of a François Rabelais's humor and the constitutive and vital Bathism, Parenchyma, and saccate constatation of the Natural World which is the effodient and nomothetical poet are but these timorous and trepid impostors which before their own naked and immortal species flee; that in their caducary and taeniate Salpid with those two ends they take and expose the rictal vulgarity of that which they have fed upon which is the Padishah; the Sultan of Turkey, and the Shah of Persia which like some portion of blackstrap molasses have been divorced from their more saccharine and sapid nutrients. What is the poet, but Nature's meat? He burrows and eats nuts and berries, he challenges those who's most unclean diet offends that cornucopian and opulent plenum of a Godly sustenance before them as their birthright.

Their is before us always that nosocomial and sartorial adnascentia of our favorite writers, and the olitory and esculent verdure of our poets; and while it is certainly pleasant to have of them a great discussion, for insights to the Homeric poetry I look not upon the critical volumes of Aristarchus of Samothrace and Aristophanes of Byzantium, but within the confines of my own humble approaches. The good text of the Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus and the gustative empires detailed by the fine tastes of Mithaecus are but this enthetic and secondary nature when compared to the tounge of the one whom consumes the meals in question. No, there is no beauty but the beauty which gestates comfortably inside and it's sanctimonious judgements inspire the whole of the selenic maternity that is our God and of which flows like the erinous and pactolian milks of the Vedic texts, like a puerperant moon greater then a sun who's pubescent eons birthed a galaxy of life.

That I am forever residing fertile like the Amaranthine Flower as the tentiginous tentations of a first-taste compelling to our interests, that I bask in the esoteric nature of the pursuit of Gustave Flaubert's "precise words" and the eidetic and pavonian vortices of the all-enduring commitments he manufactured for his arts; and like that fine astrology of Dorotheus of Sidon's "Carmen Astrologicum" or the implicit semiotics of the Cosmogenic Theory of the four elements of Empedocles and his "Philia" and "Niekos" I volunteer myself for the agency of a divine intelligence to speak a word for the majesty of complementation.

There is not one dependable purity of which inhabits our universe, but we are by a certain nature bound to the referencing of the world and it's various aspects as self-transcendent and secular creations. Is not all love to be observed acting sometimes in place of hate, and is not a portion of odium and repugnance responsible for love's being love? But if all is a mixture, all is the same, and if all plays into all things, but one thing plays. All experience of the personal class yields for it's own sake the panomphaean and soterial "sui generis" and infinite uniquity of which comparatively all the world's history and literature are merely eidolons and umbratic posterior. But the shadows of our world are what most people claim with a satisfaction as real, unperceptive to the provoking vibration of what Emerson called the "Iron Cord" which speaks to me so as to suggest a certain degree of pulchritude in "cyclopean masonry" and in a Sophistry that would rival that of Gorgias of Leontini in it's moliminous tones that the world is my concubine and paramour and that the universe is my play-thing.

I do believe, as it is so relatively complacent to suggest, that the most puissant writers and even the more considerable adepts whereof the mathematical academia is entertained were all vulnerable in their similitudes in the being classified under those wholesome preferences by which they were made to confide there thoughts in paroemia, elegance of form; or the precision of conciseness and adage wherein it seemed they were motivated to donate to each individual thought it's own expressive personality. The poet and form; Damon and Pythias, that it is each belonging to the other, one so merrily contents himself in that verse by which is complemented in it's own air of singularities, and that verse whereof the exclusion of any fastidious part is by most contestable fashion avoided, lest the work itself be undone. The poet, in his invidious dignity, compiles only his own top-stock upon which, by further note, he hath aquired in something like the sacred relationship between vegetation and water. What a Hercynian mind, to what divine sericteria; or makers of silk he permits to grow! I, with a most sincere pretension, believe that he doth rise ever so high as the Carpathian Wizard in that he can truly call his form his own and by patavinity exalt the conciseness of his nature.

This philosophy invests itself as the pertinacity of a Pyrrhus for the weak of spirit and for the modern and more pecunious "Croesus" presents itself as an unbearable tormenting of some intellectual servility, which above all else must obey the craving to associate itself with authoritative; as opposed to higher, power. Such that they must acknowledge one thing better then another, and thus play in to the fool's municipal nomenclatures. It tells us that we might find God when we understand this; that we are our own Jasons and Argonauts of our own Colchis, each of us caught up in the searching of our own Golden Fleece herein compounded in our spiritual conquests with as much a manifold potential as Eris's "Apple of Discord" to start our own Trojan Wars even, and that as the benevolent and vassal Chrysolophus, the humble birds, the humble cows, the humble dogs, the humble Man we might approach our own Adytums to become oracles of ourselves and unravel ourselves hitherto the Favonian gales.

Be that immaculate Hercules that becomes to renovate his own "Augean Stables." Divert the twin rivers of supplication and humility through your indigent delivery of a morality and living, for one does little without considering the other. The experience of yourself is the only experience worth having and the raw meat of your favorite writer is reflecting perfectly in those undulations of your own dynamic experiences which are hypogeous or ripening under ground. Deep in the stuff of yourself you must take up residence to nurse your immortal embryos before you tend to your most esurient and famished organs, preparing the faculties of your ethics and imagination before you submit to the world's hungers; your diet must not be aimed to improve your body firstly, but you must appoint yourself to the concordance of higher intellects and higher societies, higher and higher that you might presume to be the "Contentment of Tantalus and Sisyphus" and the enclave of a being fascinated with the being fascinated.

The body of my personal life seems of wont to pull me in at times as the degraded daughter of Psamneticus the king of Egypt who was defeated by Cambises in many a series of odd attractions and thusly become tumidly imbibed within the confluences of my curiosity, as to rather my love is your love, and my blues are your blues, etc. As if within the humble gracility of the natation of my own unchartered waters the Charybdis in the Strait of Messina might overtake me next to this; with more a sophistication of meter and musicality then the "Sicilian shepherd Daphnis" my life enraptures my senses, and the personal experience that I know provides me with more room for study then all the greatest literatures that I have read. I suppose Dante's "Divina Commedia" merely reflects my own tribulations and caliginous vestibules, and also that Apicius's refined tastes never explained to me the delights I felt for my own petty dining; that again to say that our own lives afford us an infinity of conversations and studies.

We might thank Athenaeus of Naucratis for his "banquet of the learned" never-minding that our own insatiable optation for the Hellenistic "carbonado" which like the Indians of North America and their petty pabulum of "pemmican-dinners" appeals to a higher faculty of a more esculent sort; a sort of cervisial intellectual "triclinium" that we devised of Oenopion the king of Khios's "Oenomel". Might we read the "Roman Antiquities" of Dionysius of Halicarnassus with an atmosphere of an incredulous and cunctative standard towards his notion that, history is the example of good philosophy; that the Greeks predominated the Romans entirely in the intellect and that some of them still thrive today. Rather, the Greeks still are alive today, that we might abandon the old pugilism and renew our spirits in the Epaminondas of our Messenian helots and go as far to consider the attacking of our Persian Empires as Jason of Pherae. That there might be some invisible conjunction or connexion of Mythology and the Truth, we might keep the lost "Heptamychia" by Pherecydes of Syros in our thoughts, that to face the hypogeal and olamic animals which reside at that truth we must keep a chunk of lead in our shoes, like Philetas of Cos as well.

I presume not to comprehend the conduct of the Heavens themselves, but rather the time from between now, and my death I have become them in action. In death The Heavens themselves are done, and they shut up into my absentia, as upon this proletaneous Earth I find myself but one of the Arundelian marbles, a Jequirity Bean or bundle of Angora Wool, perhaps even some bird of the procellarian class; as the petrels, and fulmars, and like to think of myself as a prospector of that ablutionary emollition or that relaxation that Theocritus observed in his vanessian and pastoral gulf of meager things, as the punctilious pinnace of History and God which during the fulfillment of it's meager voyage remains adherent to this; to seize the day, as Horace said, choosing to erect myself for a day's work in the nemaline and velutinous chamois of my Priapus and Endymion and by that ever-familiarity of the redolent fragrance of my thural herbs for means of both incense and sacrament, forever dining on the cheese of both the hircine and elapid species of animals; the goats and cobras, confident in the assertion of my gardens and vineyards and to dine upon my pettiness as a hardy meat. We stand directly facing a moral obligation, which tends to presume for us a question, or rather a calling of sorts; that we must choose to prepare our directions within the ambience of a more fulfilling ethical principle.

The compound of genius, which is to be acknowledged by any and every philosopher of the common strain as the most vital organ of life itself, indeed some unfolding element of change, of a veneration of forms, some retiary and labent constructure into which collects, or rather is deposited, various items in wont of interest; is something that must be taken apart, to be appreciated in the fullest standards of it's creation. True Genius equates the truth with but an adscititious and contingent and partial thing; it behaves accordingly with that dioristic phoenixity of it's childishness and curiosity and by a certain intemerate nature gravitates further and further away from the nucleous of rational thought as it develops. Imagination and Ignorance, together, define the Genius. That his pelagic ignorance of a configured quantity affords him a certain wonder, and that in his ephebic and testaceous imagination such a thing as that takes root with an ericeticolous commitment, and in that stuff of his is fit for some gala and epinician festivity by the end of it's unrestrained and belligerent rotations, that it is the final triumph of the wild and free human experience, and that it arises merely out of weakeness, and is comprehended by no artificial reproductions.

There is to be found no orectic and optative faculty, no expectation, and no fulfillment of any of the various degrees of appetency within this Genius, it is a supplicatory and humble creation which within it's domain of precatory and nival property exerts a continual benevolence and selflessness. It is this way, and it conducts itself in this manner because it is also an independent creature, of which yields nothing but a department of abundance and exorbitance for it's relations.

Those plangent compilations of a prothallial and testaceous nectar which are to be within all range of instances transplanted into us by some effluent and cantabile reverberation of sorts- the vitiable and anacamptic, the phantom and intangible substrate of their firmamental theology of which our human extremity is of a rendering incapable of the assertion of itself beyond the felt-laws which reside respectively there; transferred slushing-like as that virtuous child revolves his thoughts about, ushering out some times into our common incompatibilities of which come to betray the child for his own sincerity and morale, of his own intellect and expedient genius; the remotion of the pysmatic and inquisitive juvenility of his observations of this world, which formerly occupied his body like a personal and oceanic organ, protecting and rectifying in some enveloping of the intellectual viscera, are now pallid and etiolate and are crippled; no longer the acute membranes of his independant faculties and exceptions, but rather have become transmuted into a gross vestige of what we designate with a certain satisfaction, as adulthood; content with our cosmetic senses, we assume this migration of the sensibilities to be quite the convention.

That those whom we assume, or rather conclude to be "adults" are as some pusillanimous and trepid species; with no conception of the celestial agency of hebetic and placoidian investments and they do not operate on their own accord for some reason and thusly when beheld in their observable routines are as a vast body of tenial and animal exertions, a procrustesian and castrensial organization of sorts- by arbitrary and heedless animality it completes it's circulations and perpetuates it's echo and ebbing. The subduction of that Ossian of the genesial and ordalian experience of being a child or like a child, of being affixed to an imagination of infinite diameter and proportions, encapsulated within your world of ignorance and multiplicity and of the meeting with constant but remarkable obstructions and trials, is to be surmounted by all the more common aspects of our adulthoods.

The child is to me as that ocreate and ambulant Pygmalion(1) of which like the great Bellerophon, mounted upon a certain equine form(2), is consecutively met with the being capable of inducing it's most adroit and clement capriole into the penetrating of various agencies of the divine impressions of an irenic and altruistic benevolence, and nakedness therein. The Thracian kind Diomedes knew not the proper diets of his mares, that they would presume themselves most estimable to me with the inclusion within their bodies of but this particular metastasis. The child rides hither and thither upon the turgid and carolitic wings of his Pegasus; all animal and child existence blended so as to constitute but a singular resplendency and existence that I find myself of wont to intermingle and interpolate with at great lengths the sum of my humanity.

The remoteness and implacable appetency of the truth are resolved by that communication with one's natal soul, and it's subsequent and entheate blessings of an insouciant vigor. That it is the ecumenical and demotic benediction; a point of entry to some sort of devine and copasetic sanctum, that every human knows by an intimate and edacious coveting, and of which is a quintessential aspect of the compounded human experience. Their is this certain pigmentation of Arcadia to be found in the jessant and pactolian chaparral- the scenic property, and the scansorial and vernal Soul which adheres forever to that postulant pergola of the tralatitious and Vedic winds and vegetation of our Today; their depository or reservoir of a poetic, or spiritual liquidity. It is not to be mistaken for any determinate culmination; it is not to be restricted due to the partiality of the sum of it's many segmentations and gaps of a visceral origin and nature; rather it is what the Poet describes in his catalog and perennial diaries as the anacreontic and hellenic zenith of the composite human experience, to be absolved from the compliant and epilated Men of the City and their cosmopolitan reflection of an insignificance and altricial residue through this poetic transmutation of the spectrum of relationship; to write poetry is to commune with nature at the highest severity and allow it hitherto alleviate the ills of menial domesticity.

I do comprehend by a forward advancement of my thoughts, this Rosicrucian and Chaldean vestige retained in every individual mind and life; which are when observed within their elocutive and universal incompatibilities, of the benefitting of various implicit faculties of the universe- that the boeotian and ignominious men whom choose to epilate and partake of that tonsorial and occult turpitude therein of that adulterating of the natural form do ignore. We must begin to compose our lives in a manner hypogean and erumpent to the activity of drawing from the opulent repository of the feral antiquities of our character a source of inspiration which operates by an unconditional acceptance. Is it to be considered my fault that I observe not the strings of love, that are rumored to assert men in many different directions? That I am the plangent and puissant Gallio observing this thalian Sisyphus? An exigent religiousness of a Thyestean banquet would benefit the ills of this representation of Parkinson's law but a little; that the inimical otiosity lives there forever isolated from the breath of sapphic and venial and natural creations.

It is an interesting part of society, that faculty which is represenative of the class of poets, and poetic-thinkers; that they are like some halituous current of the setting up of hesperidean chronologies that work independantly from the accrementitial paradigms of today's historians. History, and the historical mediums of both biography and chronology which when considered conjointly are as one consecrated and rudimentary appendage, extremity, or pierian exponent of that etiolated pusillanimousness of the race of our humanity, appraised relentlessly and becoming patrician and celebrated in a degree like the contestable office of our more insular identites when erected as in the composite manner of some magnanimous stoics by many a series of continuance, begotten of the inquistive dereliction of conventionality and the observations and turgid and dropsical sedulity of various poets; most probably for it's recognition as an esemplastic and concactenative genius of which affirms that there most exist some circulation of residual intellect from ages and ages former which animates the poetic faculty of ever single person and leaves no particular moment more important then another; and thus, no life more important then another; within the poetic genius this inopectic and maculate and contractile spiritual mantra resonates as an elastic theology within a truer comfort then you or me could ever know with our bodies and devices unaquainted with higher society. But the one whom does know this; he is made now to comprehend the distressing fullness of the normative and more hebate faculties of his life, and all the deals and machinery of his contemporary society as but this abapical and contumelious atrament and laodicean and iniquitous mutation of the greatness of the universal character; something to be avoided, as an excrementitious and mephitic stain.

The poet seeks to deliver himself forever from the taciturn ephemerality and eventual caducity of terminable and impermanent dialect, saying to himself while doing it, "What is this nameless and ignominious offense so unpleasant with my character, and with a lack of definition of that which I might devine to improve- and of that pudency of an indolent standard never befitting the venial and partial condemnations that you are rumored, to in various accounts, bestow upon your many enemies; to the celestial sensation, what blasphemy have I commited to have become this otiose and pandemic Sisyphus?" No approbatory encomium benefits your pet greater then a polemic host of the various appellations on behalf of the tastes which are universal, which like a derivation of some theology of the firmamental ancestry of our appreciative oblation, imparts in a manifold potentiality the fulfillment of expectation. I have hence come to understand the poet to be a distinctive concupiscence not unlike that dog's devotion to food, and an esurient "elan" and "oestrus" of rudimentary and spiritual vitality, this nomothetic and incondite alacrity; the pinnacle and zenith of an apathy and childishness, a peculiar sort of interaction between various opulent, fiducial, and tesselar beauties which together in their empathetic and emphatic concordance are perceived as being some gentilitious continent of capricious, natal, and vestal sense; for the most part drawing up no first-hand accounts of anything in particular- excepting for his own thoughts of course, but rather to ascertain the consolidation of a supposititious and impetuous expediency of thoughtfulness or meditativeness, he composes himself within the manners of some acclimation to plangent and ambulatory behavior by a conterminous pervading of his most venerated form, that is more then frequently doted upon by both himself and his contemporaries for it's nobiliary and clement activity within a host of pneumatic influences and exertions of truly intellectual character. That visceral and tenuous and emollient soul of the poet is to interminably be observed only in it's most natural habitation of some insouciant and gelastic and certainly perdurable ebullition, seated within a degree of comfort upon the clement legerity of a hesperian and aestival gale; those winds which we might swear to be imbibed with a life greater then our own. No temporal or telluric and colloquial conventionality persuades him to abandon the fecundity of his playful, lofty, and convivial atmosphere, as to acknowledge the existence of that sordid and pugnacious uglyness which seems to be so well-accepted by the non-writer; for the poet does not believe that an absense of beauty is possible, in anything; for he might be the only thing capable of being convinced of such a thing. I do not believe in uglyness, or pain, or displeasure. The genial and diligent amicability that like some vertiginous and torrid fusillade asserts the poet before your civility of a most equitable and impartial standard collects in the many pockets of a diminutive acerbity of the obstinance of the impediment of seriousness.

It is of want to be effectively dispensed for the one whom by it has discovered need, and of which also is to be observed within this epacmastic consummation of the entheate state of some veridical placidity, of the derivation of the transcendental and immanent moments of a personal oscitancy of these testudinal and idoneous things I have become hence aware of to model myself afterwards; they are as Poems which are some sort of a psittaceous and cautelous velleity which is establishing itself as an intrinsic rudiment of my daily life in the conjunction with the appointment by some protreptic God and of my soul's saltant and alembic migration of a various interactivity involved in the identifying of that trenchant and bitter thing of that which is the emarcid and valetudinarian effect of the humorless living practiced by such an absent-minded and efficacious hebitude by the majority of my contemporary humors, which is when perceived from beyond it's more familiar incipient and germinal form as not unlike the changes between the potatory and hesternal experiences of bacchic indulgance, and that illness which results tomorrow from it and which those persons being discussed are most likely familiar with at a contubernial device of a lack of both self-dignity and a configured selfishness, and it's circulations herein(1); now apparent to me that by a certain ludic osculation of the fulfillment and triumph of the poetic form which is this sort of aestival pronouncement of a various inchoate and connubial energy of the fact that if I am to endure no more the comity of these hermetic and orphic men I observe daily with my tepid amusement, I am too resign myself to the poetic form as some vituperative and petulant occlusion of any and all instances and degrees of that impenitent solemnity, of that vacancy of the child-like spirituality, which is unmatched in any given religion. The men whom know not the meaning of a ferial or meager or even light experience of the prandial class and by no speustic victual comprehend a real flavor; this is not for you: that you gustative and avaricious Empires are lacking of the ability to appreciate not a poetic subtlety or even any delicate effect for that matter; But what of you who implement not your most human and natural sense, that which the vulnerary and henotic haecceity upon which the universe rotates in it's enchorial and gregarious law and the ephebic and tenesmic "I" are as one; I am the pagurian and promethean pedionomus which acts merely with subtle and tenellous amplexations, to contemplate the gamic and empyreal confluences of the Parnassian and Tempean stars and sun; I am to digest the nectarous and nepenthean blood of their catamenial and Pyrrhic theology of proceleusmatic and chelonian oppilations. In the campestrial and castrensian exploring of all these various entheate and neanic nectaries, I have retained to myself the identification of their cosmogyral and guiding principle as this Lydian and commentitious plenum of 		070908
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LeoNNeon eidetic and eirenic malacissations of both solemnity and maturity; God is really this nepionic and jyngine and panary creature, which is carried aloft by this anthophilian and apian buzz of which I dispose myself to consumption daily as if it were this perennial music which we are all welcome to but simply relish and breathe eternaly. If the world of Man is but this balneal and didelphian iniquity and his mind is then this scintillating body of elements, this group of exertions and movements; a singular, self-transcendent flame, then God is such to me as some rasorial and periscian dalliance of which interacts directly with my interests. To what is forever before me as being this galeate and selachian and sanguineous organ of the intellect; I am comprehending the force of which compels me to erect myself by it's hesperian and demogoric appellations. Such that it is such an esculent and comestible thing, it is most typical that it reinvents itself to me as an adnascentia for either ephectic adepts of those hunting and barbaric arts to assume for such an oleraceous complement or these wandering and vegetable sustained families of inocciduous and sidereal animal-tamers to discipline and be conducted by to a volitient gentility of living; I see my Godess now coming upon me as some accumulation of commodity, and it relinquishes my fervor to this eicastic and psittacid state of existence.

But there is always that tralatitious truth of temerarious and peirastic spirit which, in it's panomphaean and analemmatic device, is then like that sebaceous and liquid as actinopterygian and halatinous and fish are so expected to be covered with- of their salsamentarious and pelagian habitations; such is like the onion that cannot be withheld completely, but there must be mediation always between it's cepaceous and gentilitious form and it's subject; coming from celeripedean means, it is deep, and at it's tenebrious and hypogeal center, or most rudimentary and gregarian compresence, it comes to betray us by being not unlike it was at the surface. But I am at my truths, gressorious and this walking and gelastic and cachinnatory philosopher, I understand that it is only like this, that the truth may be comprehended; that Democritus is in my blood.

There is indeed this most copacetic and inculpable region of one’s genius; though when interpolated by the unwilling to believe it becomes into some bestial and cannibalistic demon not unlike the ogygian Gods and relics of religious antiquity, it’s potentiality of improvements are but a caliginous exhaustion of that which is concealed by that which directs without conditions; the hands most tender and not yet ravaged by withholding the soul transpire no goods in themselves and ignore this vegetation so sacred; their indistinct and etiolated nomenclatures benefit not the most hortensial and salsuginous of our Ancient Earth’s gardens. The entire cognitive apparatus concerns itself at an intimate level with this imaginative and infantile outlook, and by nature this sort of existence is upheld, though because the transition to a more feral and oragious state of living is often accompanied by various deformities of relationship, it is when retained by human nature instinctive but possible to be ignored for it’s eremetical and intellectual requisites. The human knows his most fundamental nature effectively and without the necessity of contemplation, but is inclined to ignore and even rage against it when more commodious exertions make possible greater empires of gustative and sensuous alternatives, with little or no intellectual excitation. I speak in manners which seem daunting to the majority of readers, and with little reason purport my temulent and and amphigean passages; but why should a man respect the more senescent and destitute of his mentative regions, like I suggest, and which like vast cities of a certain daedal construction comprehend through both the periods of activity and disuse great wear and tear? Why should one open up the vulnerable template of his being to the world, a world enriched in the having of so many devices of enmity and degradation? The poet, he who claims above all else the higher society, might defeat one’s critical objections. I pray thee seek one out to have of him a promulgating of these matters, at which we might have for ourselves a definitive answer- but I know from my own experiences that you shall have great difficulty and obstruction in the ascertaining of the task, for if there be but one thing to say of which the world is lacking, it is the class of poets. The poet is he who takes note of all things subtle or surreptitious, he is also quick to disregard the sensuous, for they are that aggregative mass of necrotic and cutaneous deterrent which he beholds in the minacious and oneiric fantasy which is of wont to drink him in like some stotious and bacchanal reveler to etiolate and esurient ethics(1); the architect and organ of various celestial and cosmic systems, the stuff of the prismatic nimbus he exudes through his work and with his understanding of words and symbols, he designs that which the soul has a fancy of engaging in with facetious and desipient manners, as in a childish state, as it's conductor in the faculty of recollection communes with figures of his more exoptable appetibility. He works with more elemental consituents then the world's elements, and as the myopic and parochial intellect of the scientist is resolved with microscopes and other such artifical means, one's spiritual vitality might be improved with but a simple quantity of the poetic form, which radiates within us all, and with one of Shakespeare's(2) sonnets, ameliorated of any and all deformity or imperfection, and made into the coryphaeus(3) of God's performance.

Those ephemeral schools, as Science whilst provide, which holdeth speciously and contingently those principals with with our world view so regards as veritable, doth retain to thy, by necessity, unwavering scrutation an entire host of half- truths. When looking upon a great painting or poem what supplication invents it's charm but a world's alternative resolving who's mere being so invalidates all peremptory sciences?

To thee denied by that so critical pace and that sabulous and orarian imbonity so pallid and etiolated a nature to within some oppidan and saccadic exile abstain from that amative and gamic energy, to you only all those lactescent and smegmatic things appear not, but to you the dulcet and odoriferous cheese witheld, these things to which poetry is as of a derelict store of good, to which I into which your dullness steaps, in some way of to which I know not how, took upon myself it's fullness and discovered all it's offering, to me to be but not that great seed imperdible, but with out to which an artist embarks, a useless good, to true a loss. To be of yourself the bard to which tauromachian and contrapuntal yourself resounds by what we have in accrementition; to in you create again yourself, be not of glabrous and boring character a' spinning a silk not sweet to how the mind is fit for tending to our ambitious hands, as it hylotomous and obnoxious terebration of what to me is of no worth; a soporific inducement doth consume yourself for it. Why then leniently treat my contested vice, and go on about a busy, busy work of cracking skulls, dead artists do you treat with that temulency and jactitation of your comprehensions; when even to yourself do not you know a thing worth saying into which the room of discourse you doth exact your temulency and embarassment, to fellow philosophers invoke offense by which you truly claim your character lost.

Upon which words are, all other things sit to be indefective, by them admit not one; and use them all to cleave towards a world now no longer acclimated to higher things, things of the worth of being seen at least, if not to simply say you did.

In the world I see, Poetry and Philosophy are without that verdant and sanguine portent of movement or life, becoming this trade by which hath required lesser stock and at one time of the befitting of insouciant and estival gods, now which are so reproached by our impudence displayed as so very emarcid and pallid of it's conduction; torpid and enervated by such crebrous obdormition, they arise only once in a while as but eremetic phantoms, to but simply in some halituous and lochetic and cleidoic state survey by precarious and tentative standard the chances of their re-entry into the mortal worlds; and the entirety of everything before me is but this incesstant examination of my vivency and juvenility, which is in wont of arrestant inducements, but never on behalf of my platitudinous and acerbic disenchantments of it, serving but to cause to becometh an augean and venal and partial conformity to conditionality into which these various olamic and tesselar beauties are undulating and in a certain hypogeal and tenuous natation kept by the vastitude of neglect and of dilapidation; though I am this quixotic and sorcerous thing and equiped with a goety previously unknown of and unlooked at since the ancient world to which indigenous to it is, I make of my various conjurations the transitory effect of their conciliatory and visitant pilgrimage to our pallid and sanguinous yet sacredly animated world, reprehensible of the beholding of their form so consummate and vapid; merely the gate to which they aquaint themselves with that megatherial and hortensial obvention of nature-walking, as if they themselves in the strolling by and recounting of the Earth's most caducean and telarian and papilionaceous masterpieces become of them, and prove themselves as much as nature as they are the mediator of in recounting; I become thankful of this exaltation.

I dare say that the poet is he who is employed by the most prudent of considerations and is attentive of the gradient of his circumstance and the potentiality of it's relative interactions; he is verecundious and inoculative, and by further definition is ultimately capable of penetrating to the aposematic and recondite spheres of pneumatic music which is as a gas, and is then also capable of absconding with that nutriment, becoming of his own coriaceous hide and symbolic architectures as some integral part of that which he is in steady writing and contemplation over. The poet is one of the most important parts of Nature, herself. He is ultimately one with Her, and he knows her best, he who inspires.

The aura of the poet is sea-colored and in it's edacious and alexiterial musicality branches outwardly through and behind and over and beyond the continuity of time, making a concatenation of all time and all WoMan with itself, into a singular awareness. The peripatetic and pelagian poet is without the soiling of himself with ambagious and cunctative manners, he who is always drinking in his circumstance simply to communicate it, consummate in all ways imaginable; his profound sublimity in that amongst sequacious and pusillanimous men; condemned to the dependence upon their own surrogate and tutelary Gods, he is unchanged; adamantean and obdurate he collects as an ossification of divine property descended into his allegiant Achates; the language that he is made paphian and inexorable of; it being the acrimonious and parochial chrysalis into which he assumes the form of God in mode departed from our Earth, he emerges in his written catalouge as a perfect resentment of this World and it's people.

I obambulate in a manner so megatherial and elephantine, as with the bucolic and arcadian appetency without direction, in method as pertinacious and punctilious as the more farcical and anfractuous the sounds become, the closer I am to home; animated by a definite purpose, aspirant to simply look for rhythyms everywhere and in any circumstance repair their infandous and detestable absentia. Only in children can we observe this mode of life, or in philosophers; a man cannot live in this manner, he is retained by a confluence of various degradations of his character, and is not even in the desire of which to achieve this state, which is the most concerning fact to this scenario which I can come to.

Why is it, that the assumption of specious form in so many a thing is assured to us by the facetious comicality of the human mind's operation which illicits in those things which it is observing a certain similarity with itself? That the sodality of ingannation is in the duplicity and dissonancy of the mind's various parts, that it treats all things by the sum of the contents of it's own rememberances, and so Dogs and Children, both aboriginal to faraway and fantastical and wild places, must not be absolved from this natural process. We know of them not a thing; but thinking that there simply cannot be anything which functions differently from our own concieved principles, we being to implant ours into them, reproduce ourselves in various places where we should not have ever even entered into.

If to in which my punctilious inclement of understanding the art of the evasion of dolorous condolences and the tellurian superficies to which of them reside in the surface vestibules of that odd-fellow conversastion we chance commute our instances, I am at once to allege impetuously that there is no more a succoring and consolatory halidom, no more a temperant and open forum of which to satisfy the various hosts of relations between us- and those inimical and worldly complications so vitriolic and appellative of the common man which accompany one detached from rustic living; there is to be found no greater property of that established insularity of ardent gratitude in another then that which is to us summative and retained completely in the genial receptions we have with all of our beloved Dogs. They, that is each of them, hail from some hyperborean impeccability and gentility of living, that at one analouge of our time's decadent reproach of all the Earth's various elements or another, man occupied as well, but lately absconded from with the dogs as some juxtapose and incongruous relic, correspondent to that life by which we fled for power, or for being decieved by the pursuit of power, I do not know. They are dislocated from their homes, but take to us as if we were one of them with steady repetition of our own optative strain of living, which might go to show how easily fallen into the hebetative and obtundent circulations of the ManWorld are. They might even attain our opulent and sordid cerebrations; that is, lazzyness, over-indulgence, and most recognized; the attraction to the abundance of warmth. That we take them and by the gerent forces of a certain languor of remordency breed them from their more natalitious and commodious divinity; introducing them into our daedalian transgressions; coming of inanimate recogntion and inert commentary by daily dulling, by a daily isolation from a higher society- we betray them. Our vein of the world is but an empire of gustation; it is cruel for it's epigaeous and vulpine approaches, it is by them at note to pull in those things around it that choose not to submit or simply are not aquainted with it's facination and worship of the sensuous faculties; and most of all, it directs itself in accordance with a rationale in submission to the lowliest of epistemological devices. But our children, those ones younge enough to be not yet intangled in our spiritual crisis; what of them?

I am of the disposistion to believe that the quintessential human experience is imagination, and most optatively, of the variety to which childhood puerility and fecundity are to be by many celestial gurgitations and ebullient and vertiginous motions like an oragious and numinous constellating of various prototypic but effeminate and thus easily conquerable methods of observing, that is to say, so many perfections of looking and understanding; which are repudiated from interacting with our conventions and judgements today in the hypogeous and pallid realities of adulthood. To be deprived of and enucleated from the generative causticity of childhood's outward affection towards our most "serious" of concepts is to be later as parochial and uncoordinated, never and never to be aquainted with the most exuberant of our life's facets, a certain lacuna prevents the mind from collecting itself as the proportionate intermixing of particular ecstacies into one self-transcendent, running tap of lethe to which we are provided retreat to, in the faculty of recollection, in our later tribuloid and atrabilious outlooks; broken down from years of disuse, the principal of our existence is made into some gross degeneracy of culpable ambition and deficient temerity.

Surely, animals might be able to detect the differences in man and his younge?

To be like a child, animated by a natal and gelastic vigor, is not to be ignorant and invested merely in puerile jocosity; it is to have apprehended the plenary and verisimilitudinous undercurrents of our cachaemic and morbid life; it is to have claimed life, or asserted yourself beyond it; to have recognition of the truth, that we are here to produce fiction; at least, thats how I would like to believe. To be like a child, is to be like the birds and Dogs, embossumed by an openability of benedictive and "aesculapian" influences; to be aware of the Earth's most emphatic and vespertine organs, to be unaffected yet by all the petty and inept deliberation of older men, who in knowing no more how to live, seperate themselves in layers from the nucleous of rustic living.

In the multiplication of uncertainties; the esemplastic and henotic nature of morality and mentation serve to augment in continual fashion a revelation of salient contrast to our excommunicated and shrunken philosophies; that the sensation of belonging and indispensability and vulnerary amenity the most valued product from a combination of these things; is an essential aspect of human life and a certain "viaticum" required for the ponderous and prolixious unfolding of it's element of hermitage, and it is only provided to us in the forgotten and equitable natural domain.

To be involved with nature is to be involved with a most indomitable and esculent concordance of veritable and exquisite means of sustentation, that is to say, not merely of corporeal extensions, but also that it like florid and chryselephantine metals, reflects that which it receives through the mediation of some estimable and worthy equivalence, and so purports it's ideology without the failures of man's un-configured selfishness, that it also is the source of all the arts and inspirations in our race as well, so more fit for our government then a fellow man.

I, with the tender quintessence of discernment all whom live in isolation from the anserine Men will agree to a comparative illustriousness yet ease of being made forgettable, study the various methods of inflicting dullness to which have been established in my rudiment and staple and unaffixed expectations by the terebrant and venous body of this newer society, and conclude them to be but shameless and impudent profanation of the sacred character of nature's most delicate organs of extraneity. I will admit to recognition never a more solemn and meritorious thing, then child and animal life.

My matutinal experience that is jentacular or morning breakfast, for the most part, I prefer to have retained as like a pandurate and inermous shadow, maintained as obedible by a certain sensibility that is arcadian; that is to say, in wont to preserve that generous multiplicity of every single day's incipient atmospheres of stellar, and vivid, and vital existence; to all experiences of the prandial class which art concieved apopemptic or " on the go" which might serve well to institute a singular day of menial opuscule; I hithero elude all strains of abundance. Instead, every morning and directly upon my awakening, I absolve myself to this enthean and palatine appetibility of novel thinking and writing, ignoring the day's fremescent moments and my physical needs. It is by this manner of conducting myself, that I feel as though my respect to both myself and to my mind has been observed, hithero by praedial and stoic Gods. No genius wakes up to a mundane experience, but rather he embraces the new day by exercising more vital and esurient faculties then his contemporaries are inclined to dispose of. Is it not very wise to have the mind begin it's circulating before the blood and organs?

I am compelled by an entire species of truculent and temulent thoughts, that I might presume to divine by that orgillous and ophidian faculty the balsamical and emollient fragrance that cause one to, like some audacious and intrepid emperor; actuated by a certain accomptable valiancy and sagaciousness of veritable morals, to rise up to some plethoric feracity in the elysian and pastoral gulf of their philosophical contemplations; that palustral and hortensial animality of thespian and minatory Tragedy residing as the subboreal and hypogaean and inimical archetypes aboriginal of Hamlet and Othello; the knowledge of suffering which exalts it's professor, and which all poets truly exude in a substantial quantity. It is the animal-stench that exalts my motives.

The universe is, in all the manner of it's various superficies and activities, a stochastic and acataleptic system; if it is indeed an olamic and infinite thing interacting with some vicinal and partial intelligence. Is it when appropriated by our contentions, beholding humectant and corrosive or adventitious governance of it's element? All we can presume to know about it, is achieved through the faculty of Logic. We may apprehend merely the verisimilar and specious knowledges, founded in the rudimentary organ of logical and experiential recollections, Logic itself I should say pensile and adherent to the axiom; that it is the summative and culminative body of the comprehensions, applications, and discernments of various "Probabilities". That probability, and ultimately, that dubitancy govern the mundane worlds, imagination and the insouciant and jovial mentalities of children should govern the patrimonial and supernal laterality of the poetic composistions. Does all of this contention reduce human worth if I propose that Logic is in itself an unworthy thing when we have our poems? Are we condemned to uncertainty and endless curiousity at once, both togather?

There is, like the divine lambency of soporous and placid certitude, intrinsic and effulgent; this rudimentary organ which we call awareness, and which gestates in commodious and capacious manner within us all and from an anidian and embryonal state exalts itself as an absolution through the medium of a true genius. It is viviparous and convoluted with these amazing things we call axioms and principles, it is this sort of collection of non-experintial knowledges yet directs all contentions regarding the experienced.

Awareness is the objective of a certain type of meditation which aims to rectify all suffering through the oneness of a disillusionment of locality and separation, and like a testaceous and cleidoic integument, with some great efficience sustains it's object with a certain execution of benevolence; of this maternal and unconditional guidance, the intellectual absolves himself. It is autopoietic and effiminate, and without any need of sustentation or fuel or motivation; it is this entirely independant and reliable government that is ancient and at one time tralatitious to so many groups of individual and unsimilar kinds of things; it was the esemplastic Goddess. It's pure and naked existence is a refletion of the objective reality and is the experience of thinking IN the cerebration of God; halcyon intellect, is what we should use to commune with this effulgence of altruistic and esemplastic energy.

It is mose celebrated for it's being stillicidious and pantagruelian, the corroborant and adagial and pluvial rains, the vastitude of truth that our race is condemned to, by a termless and unending curiosity to surrmount. All of the intricacies of my language, which I devote myself to using constantly, are but a nugatory and stramineous probity into the realness. They only approximate what the mind intimately is aware of, and thus, no poet or genius might ever reveal his bathysmal channel; with or without the intention to do so. The obscurities and creatures which reside unchangeable and ogygian in that, will and will forever remain unkept from the precarious standards of communication and experiment and scrutiny. The philosopher is he who embraces the futility of his existence. The philosopher is he who is not despondent or choleric when made aware of his inaccessible desires of the truth, rather, with a warrior's blood he exacts this attraction to great and inumerable challenge.

To your own salsuginous and dematiaceous felicity which in it's tumescent and elaboratory constructure is known, appear as capable of flight and capacious as by means allocatable and agible are so to you; send it upon thine mark acerbic being, to with which you of embellished a manner might your enemy in commendation and that speaking laudatory, you move closer to the virtue of fraudulence, be communicated to defeat. That real duplicitous and astucious behaving is an art, a being worth learning and natural good, that which is good being that which to it's maker cultivates appurtenance, that he might be good in his art he is an artist. Great tricksters then are artists, as by that which they do necessitates the displacement of things, to pragmatic and prudent that which his product is becomes, workable to his affairs, that artwork being the deception of capable and like vendible commodity to anarthrous substantive compounded, a minds and men being so.

By which celebrious and perspicacious the hypostatic organ of your muse, trepidatious and bibulous are all becoming as superfluous parity, to you to all things a sublimification in the annealing of the soul; by you may it becometh adustible or coriaceous to your muse, that it might be made to depectible and scarious likeness as to that dependable one to which we all know, but prey thee supply it's green by life's continuation tantivy and full, once again doth in thine self pull forth the soul untrained?

2

To me divorce my continuity and in my general form make to which yourself enjoys tumultuary and morigerous a becoming in me of your wanted lacerations, and you will then find yourself to cry; call me then cepaceous and amurcous into which my body of things lives hyperborean and murcid to your kind of a being; duplicitous ingannation and fraudulence made, but I myself am more then happy as that jumentous and sagacious man that I am to be truly known as being, and like feral reckoning am alert to the exertion of defense, thusly, I must admit the conchyliaceous and testudineous vindication to which I outwardly am of wont to protrusive have it, lest crashing about me comes forth the ill-derivative of attenuated fundaments. To be steady at the core as lutaceous and tellurian subjects, that is the camphoraceous and fabaceous truth; the hearty reality which like the lamiaceous and saccharine herb actuates our senses. To do this, I must advise; no impression to which I am optatively moved exists, but rather what I am is obstinate and calcitrant to defend it's own truth.

If to which your anandrious Adonis and child is approved by you of study and the voracious employment of fine schooling is coductive to him of distasture, shall you aquit him of his interaction with our Godly and naturaly adjectitious and adscititious thing, or upon rexamination conclude that for him virtue is a greater involvement then with happyness; that syndetic and vincular philosophy itself be of that certain anguinous and antecedaneous knowledge to which it's protector is the salsamentarious convergance of all of man's accomplishment, in wont of it to decadence be approved, do you regard it never thusly and in your desiderative conduct also the wasting of all human ties? This problem cannot be resolved by science, and is evidence of a type of logic of which to it science retreats in a deficiency of apprehension; the numerical relation of these things we have summarised to that extent of which our lives draw no commuting an experience but to which only philosophy, ethics, and morality might correlate or derive something. My point is this; that this reality is not a purely physical thing, to which the entirety of operations might not ever be affixed to rational prosesses; recrementitious and obreptitious a pure mind is so not begotten, argenteous and pactolian it's form only to when like the erymanthian and tegulated boar it might conduce impediment to it's herculean and borraginaceous adjective, in the way that to this addition, it is like a fine-tasting vegetation, though in it's cosmopolitan usurpations to be enjoyed is difficult, in wont to be hortensial and uberous by fine agriculture, or perhaps by the palate dependant upon tastes constellated to that ambrosia by a lately woven sophistication. The placid mind to which in no circumstance comes to commit itself to it's own destructions, is without any hope to in akward groping apprehend the Gods. On the becoming of your own unmaker, you are imparted as of God's redeeming principles, to judge the world by more then numbers and experiment, but to by your own morality and ethics and artistry display it outwardly as you are to have it; the tenable and hebetate world of parochial and conspicuous exertations I should like to think is inadequate.

*Having but this impetuous and sanious juvenility to direct me not unlike the gala of the hymeneal things of the topiary figures setting inexorable upon various bodies of lugubrious and acheronian resistances in my mind, and no senescent and geriatric know-how to which substained in auspicious and effective ways becomes the praetorian and amenable dirtyness of the man; the veridical and glareous perception is, that which is by the egregious and tabernarious exaustion consumed by one for one to in fantasies to which both likely in the concordance to which no poetic thought is participatory they draw up that convergence of acrasial and acrimonious things with which we were to be of no want to know that by which with our fathers comes to admit some leodicean and pandemian product, and to him who betrays his bloodline for these calls can win to him more then what is possible by merely panomphaean and salsuginous tastes; as to them, coming consuming, sufferance is expected with no lacking assuredness; into bitterness for thine father's acceptance, thou dost waste himself entirely so.

Poetry, which when encumbered by the bounds of measure in a term of equivalence and concinnity is likened to the nacreous atmosphere of an epigaeous and phalerate and pantagruelian scintillation in a room of vast discourses of a concordance of various atrabilarious intellects, is that agrestial and mercurial thing to which of all the seraphic and veracious Men of the more aperitive and succulent of life's boragineous and oleraceous produce is endemic and thus produced as it is in a natural form; a sophistic and thaumaturgic and above all other ostensible definitions a purely unrational thing, to which also is multifarious in it's impossibly rendered body; a God it lives, A god it breathes it's salsamentarious and eremetical flame, no other art to which it is of a succombing stillness made. To like country-farm's most philomelian and epopoean wind's molendinarious and oragious ophelimity of the poetic faculty, commands a cibarious attention to exert preemenent influences upon, as the mind dilligently empties it of all organs obnubilated and sibylline in ceaseless wonder; never ever meeting it's bottom yet always vagrarious and temerarious in wont of being to it acclimated.

Plerophory- that is, self assurance, is that anthophorous entity, uterine and testaceous supplanting in a circulation of higher order all the marmalizing of the human in which society is of a definite form communicable; and it is that antientropic haeccity of which true genius outwardly exudes, and of which concupiscible to intellectuals, is thusly rendered the actuation of true men, understanding the intellect to be the true benefactor of all things simultaneously, morality becomes it's precursor in direct connections; in the want to do good the first philosophy was surrmounted. In what equivalence and commensuration of ideas we have failed ourselves, and in the divorcing of true life, that is, life belonging in completeness to nought but the one who lives it in the constant precept of deliberation! But again, to any person whom in the direct association of such execrable circumstance maintains the intellectual mind is a true philosopher, or a lover of wisdom, for in hopelessness and unvarying mischance he as continually as his oppressors improves himself tactically and by conviction makes in immortal exertions the limitless scope of himself, but in his absolute brutality pays a strepitant reverence on behalf of improving others in knowledge, only in him nature is upheld and with an ally or a friend, and by that body of comestibles keeps philosophy alive. And all knowledge, and all truth, and all of nature and the world, and all of God are dependant upon him solely.

Philosophy, of which accountably a great deal of various goods are set to an excitatory and vigorous propensity, alabandical and succiduous in no wavering; fecund the mere superficies to which it in it's impression of oestrual regulations, which harmonic with the human soul and it's visceral opulence; wading the mirkyness of human minds in the precept of fundamentality the truth prevails, art in all the pedagogical lineaments appearing to be such a critical yet unknown mode of amelioration; it is also that which the impeccable and analemmatic device is coorelated with; it is ampelideous and excernent collachrymation to which in one great and providential circle, runs a great conversastion to which the sum of all time and humanity participates with God, and in this mechanismin of true reality the truth to which all philosophy is dependant upon rests in the concordance and junction of intellectual diversities. If I am to understand Plato, I am of wont to aquaint myself with also Aristotle, and if Thoreu then Emerson I must also study with an equiponderate and homologous motive and also drive, to prevail an educated member of philosophy's inner circle, to completely be versed in all the classical, and specialist texts, and to be more then a mere visitor to the divine realm; but a proven aboriginal tribesman, to whom inwardly converges the pantheons and intellectual schools in one horrisonous bubbiling concoction of elemental and generative laws, into me I wish to pull and absorb into unity all the higher order of things, to bring me and all of those establishments to a focal point, and overshadow the subsannation and sardonic form to which our lives depart from real lives and in incurring the wrath and scorn of the ages shames me.

The man with stygian garrulity; compendiarious and contumacious of the subjects to which it is with a passion contrariant, is absolute and with gentility and in it's climate, the greatest beauty outwardly exudes from it. To those whom in your philosophy draw up resistance, be quick with them and by them allow never your growth to be stunted. If they do not with equal force defend themselves as you, they are worthy merely of your resentment for meeting them.

The terraneous and banausic algidity of which the world is reclined to dispose to me; chills anything of my intellectualism, cast out of an immorigerous and immarcescible imbonity, and of it the world hangs again but as the gramineous and commensurable, no carminative and healing stuff to the jovial and amatory things prevails, but rather of the mundane of an enchorial sabulosity falls through the fingers and extremities of my mind readily as farinaceous and granulated a' patulous dust of such. Why so does these great things evade me? If they are to be so, then of them forgotten the life they had is invidious but kept quiet.

To embarking that apical and perstreperous thing to that natural domain, auspicious and veneficious charm prevailed, to that nativity so appealingly retecious and extispicious to my higher intellectualism, vacillating and dubious may thee in action always prove to those oligomerous and papilliferous woodland birds and such ancient spirits, audacious and aspirant I approach your temple; like some callithumpian protest and also to reconcile myself to ostentation in wont of to be provided your assistance if in you pendulous and flexulous I to come akwardly defeat my stride, will thou help me so? It is the carneous and carnaptious to which from I flee, not of some abjecting spirit, but of goluptious sublimity; in no want to disrupt my affairs and those peoples to which they are reflexive, I stay my hand to keep the peace, finding myself a catadromous philosopher; staying in these placated and imperturbable spheres I know one day to faraway lands I must supercede all my intellect, to spawn at lenght a new life, a new mind, I in hyperborean cognizance await the dillipidation of all things to who's inenarrable jejeunosity, or rather density of hard-to-comprehend faccets my life is of a conforming to a customary legrity; my life now is my triumphant calm, to which I am in the process of exploring.

For my mind to move thus, I must absolve myself to entheate and eximious stock; to draw a god-given contention and of the divine mind incur parsimonious exinanition of sorts, to detenebrate Holy Will of the substitution of all inimicitious and hypogaean sin in mankind at apprehensions. True Genius, the calliopean and litigious thing of us, is that copacetic and astucious product of nature, effiminate and absorptive, that acataleptic anfractuosity to which the soul of man is of wont to gravitate, but is in abecedary ways without definition; It is beyond all other things, and it stands cupressineous and gerontogeous. True Genius itself is the muse conterraneous to which I am; to which all artists seek to communicate with to enjoy it's subventitious and adjutory opitulation. It is an emanation of an ancient Earth, and is intuitive. All genius is elevated to inhuman proportion, and subsequently condemned to miscomprehension by the contemporaries abroad, and always after life most thoroughly expels it's vexing contrition. Has anyone ever comprehended Shakespeare? But how many are so quick to supplant their word for his? Rather, endeavor to know them; but know this too, there true word is unknown and merely worthy of the dust now to which it has succombed entirely. Nature to all of this depends. To which upon that lusory and moliminous creature is Dao, and his genius is improved by nothing; to attempt to make him meliorated and edulcorated by the likeness of your own cosmetic and rogatory sense you prove yourself a sensless and elysian disrupting agent so extroitive and putaminous. The integrity of Nature is insurmountable, and the absolute truth to which within it lies; that God is you. But, can you claim to know the operation of the universe, better then the universe? Why then revise it's order for you own, being that you are of the liminal and peccaminous comprehension of things?

Their is vitiated and venal your things to which all are, that wilting and putative erosion of character to which can be said also that the fastidious and intractable mind never mistakes itself for, or would so much as in frivolous prevarications conduce, that which the terrigenous and pagurid minds exert, earthen minds, that is natural and great minds, in their vagrancy they so pleasantly arrogate the truth of nature as it is their home! A far greater home then yours at least, the intellectually servile treat land with money merely or at all. I never wish to pay for land or sell it, but to umongst it's immensity of glamorisation be appointed most of all as it's kindred spirit by numinous appellation, and to observe the inner-workings of ecumenical and aperient dispensary by the secularity and laical operations of my own eyes. I wish to be of nature, to be one with it, to be it's dedicated and grateful member, but to do this must I not abstain from the treating of my love as some slave and mere property in it's squaring off and dispensastion by the more ambient economy? Must I appoint it the ubiety of my soul and more a good then that squalid man-world to which I have precipitated?

Of the various means that the gressorious and frumentarious concinnity of the various things in nature expands their effect, we to that empowering and temeritous and capricious alterity pay our surreptitious veneration and become of that specific kind of being dedolent as pachydermatous and subboreal creatures are and exhibit; feeling of no compunction that effrenate and reclinant inflection that contorts all about of the men encrusting the emunctory and alviducous februation that I so love talking about and of which, at all costs even to our favonian identity must be preserved for it's mundificative and ablutionary effect; it's effect of magical healing. The rejoining with nature is that truly divine baptism, a being submerged into the circulation of a truly inspiring magnetism of things; a direct guidance to which the spirit of man might set upon in real comfort, such as that dull commodity will never provide. May man's society never deracinate me from the menage to which all divine property converges in equivalence, for a higher society standardizes my priority!

I am extracted from that rusted, or ferruginous and minacious society of man; to which with the decadence of the industrial kingdoms makes putrescent the entelechy of even the greatest intellectual mind and makes into it that iniquitous and malefic reprobation. I will not submit to observance of the state's law; for that would be to appoint beyond my own exponent another worldy and partial thing, when the only truth to which we might at once reconcile our genius in a state of absolution or destruction, is that the self rests higher then all things. If I look upon what I am reading, and to take it in I move with an earnest devouring, I must not commit myself to the fear of greatness. If you are a writer, and in your study of Shakespeare or Homer or Eliot or Pound you find yourself with a gaping jaw, to your own papers retreat at once; and better yourself in your own writing, for certainly greater are you, then that preponderant thing of merely Shakespeare, to whom merely a discontinuation of activity consecrates, as by a being worthy of rememberance preached to us beyond ourselves it is, merely because of our displeasures of his being gone- you are still alive, and are better then dead poets, the poems of theirs you read commit themselves to you, and are no longer responsible for their original masters.

Might you be uppugnant that to with blandishment and protreptical contestation the swooning, quiescent and torpid, dormitory and somniferous speaches of olden-day philosophers contradict itself to an unmaking; that to in speaking like them revitalize the earth and replinish it's barren literature, such that I think our writing today in calculation to which we are comparing it with the ancient world, is supercilious and a ridiculous assertion. To what Man punctilious and atrabilious to our society pervades his home behind and without contumely or a decadence of his character; and in his amphibian and subboreal existence looks with a confirming to his God into the pages to which his favorite authors are hypogeous and surreptitious forces, ouwtwardly like a heavenly temple conducting his senses to which mundane earth leaves indifferent and pococurante.

Poetry is the topiary and pomarious device of a hymeneal and ebullient sphere; to exclude one's self from the natural world which is a substance crude, incondite, and spurious; lacking of true relationship, relying upon the pusillanimous and etiolated extortions of it's members to sustain it's pallid rationalities. What remote vernacular, what shrunken vocabularies that it speaks to me with! The inadvertent comicality of which it erects in place of it's supposed dominance overtakes me, and prevents me from clearly discerning it's motives. A lacteal and nucamentaceous genius compounds in imagination and an understanding of the natures of all mathematical and rational truths, it is like the hephaestian spirit, also it is very chelonian and acanthopterygious; the piscine manuvering soul; that genius is with grace and clemency, a natural elegance as of it's soul-swimming rendered by an acclimation consummate- nymphaeaceous and sarmentaceous as a strawberry goes to grow; introduction to it superfluous and gratuitous, as the tartarean flames require not your forthought of a sufferance impending thusly, yet are to apprehend your intrepidity and obstinacy in a due process of unvieling things before eyes to which you are recieved; poetry that to be we see in flames so mindfull of our discomforts!. At certain instances I feel as though a mechanistic effusing of divine property I have become; belonging to the art I have chosen as of a proprietary commodity, to which I am for it an implement and pruning hook; it is because of my devotion to the art's manufacturing, that I treat it with more attention then myself, of it is verity but cautelous as I approach myself again as a complete truth, to which philosophy once again, comfortably wrought for both accounts, becomes by my cosmetic treatment of it a type of resolving of Earthly happenings, as a scansorial agent to which dependant upon I am raised beyond all possibility of deception or decadence. The lappaceous and sapid fruit, that is philosophy and poetry, macaronic and adscititious to which God himself has fused his dialect and way of speaking, the macradenous and extuberant stuff of a running tap of astuteness!

By your admissions, am I the paphian and rabulistic loafer, or the sedulous and sidereal animal-tamer? And to my consultation so precarious and tentative; The God lives thoroughly, and science is dead and stagnant; like atrabilious and limivorous things, it absolves itself to the diet with which it's life is substained, though a stramineous and truculent one it be, so unlike their pennigerous and baccivorous contemporaries. The mansuetude and mollitude to which the compassionate personality of nature exudes as for the intellectual benefit, I find more a salacious and bacchanal attraction. To an alacrity morigerous and specific, science wishes to reduce my philosophy; in what mind blooming and vigorous do I comprehend your optative strain? To what great scope of heaven do you wish to persuade me? And you dare say Art is no benefactor of our society? And your tantalizing threats avail not but your rendered hostility, to supplant it I fear my forces are inadequate- so to your weak brutality I withdraw a helping hand and stutter no more for what your obreptitious nugacity seeks to implant within. To what world does your science lead? The truth indeed I am obsessed with, but fearing that Art is that sublime reality to which all men seek, to which all material motion and mechanism is but a shadow, I withdraw to poems and philosophy merely, with a doubtfull glance, in a body of various usurpations I venerate my school before your own and higher even still. The art reflects the naked human consciousness, of which outwardly exudes your truth. God is living in nature, the natural spirit pulls and makes intrepid true men, true men by divine actuation more important then your science. To the ancient forfathers of our civilization, philosophy engineered in insipient forms merely- to science they looked not, and of it's proximity they were abstemious. Philosophy is living and manuvering with it's orgulous omneity. If science be your fancy, by all means pursue it, but I am afraind that it is not appealing to my higher intellectualism, and I choose Art and Philosophy over Science and Mathematical Reason. To what do I ask of you is the true reality- the characteristic of your own mind, the human mind, to which in generative forces creates the Arts, or that Scientific mind to which calculates tedious variability, to resolve a multitudinous affront of the senses to a uniformity of which ripples within it's shackles, your science making our earth a slave to recirculation of unnessesary and distracting laws; when so did the distance of the sun from the earth prove my benefactor? Or for God's sakes, the structure of the atom? Is that to which you revere the truth comparable to Shakespeare's sonnets? Or his comedy, to Plato's treatment of courage and cowardice does your vast numerology prevail? Is science more so the truth then Art? No.

Art, I believe with an accentuated sincerity and cordiality must not be mistaken merely an entitative and halituous subject, but that it is able to be studied we might consider, to be so appelated in the most efficacious and trenchant means by the assumption of that which is of either displacement of things or the treating of various particulars to in which aggregative and summative a performing is by the manipular and coordinative effort exerted, be rendered for the sake of practical gain and the achievement of complementations; or harmony, of particular parts. All true artists, that is to say, those whom have in their craft actuated their objective, by definitive nature then must be lucrific and felicitous to by that which they have taken to themselves ostentatious or convivial a relation, that is to say, no real artist is as demented or despondent as they who in the genial and amiable insularity of effusiveness are disposed to invent to themselves, but by a certain and true happiness excels if gentile and with earnesty he performs; that by which his art is practical, and assists, his fondness also is benefited; why would one make art of that which doth offend him, or which is not his greatest good, and if he were so inclined as to produce this, would it even be possible? But to an artist, might not his given intention be aimless, that to which his art seeks to improve be but before him his own bacchanal and carousal employments? Then by this artist, though he be true and effective, he is in of himself proven his cullible things and fallibility, to that real artist rational understanding of his form's objective comes first before even the inspired writings. Then by this, we are to be revealed two artists in definition; the virtuous artist, and the self-decieved artist, and by art we have established so; that any art seeks practical gains, that is, has an objective, and that that art is performed by either the implementation of familiarity or disassembling to which also within a multitude of things performs merely.

It is by no manner of a precarious saying so, that the first to of which all artist's common traits upon my knowing well are effodient and concinnous, is that certain ecstatic state of a being by which the poet is of a temulent mind disposed to something like a cautelous velleity. By many things we are not of a right mind; but swept off our feet by God we exert this nimiety of strangeness, so forgive me in advance for to which all fodient and fossorious of my acts to you an exhumation of sorts becomes. Art is a food, a victual to which the mind substains itself. The body of art is a natural food, developing as some agrestic fruit at spontaneous lengths to tentatively plot our souls. Art is that thing to which few men are wholly aware of; vecordious it betrays common senses, and to each man by it's own ends presents itself, of no recognizable consistency and upon which the rationality has mastered not, though I must endeavor to correctly classify it to found my case. It is indefinite for the most part, but for the sake of terms depending upon the Soul of man to root. The greatest philosophers and artists and poets of any age were most certainly demented, and of which no other man fully understood, or will now ever so much as grasp. Discourse is as the stridulating of two great wings, upon which that papilonaceous and evolatic subject descends to heaven, to rupture that chord, to transplant that rudimentary organ to which my view of nature and art are aboriginaly prevalent. For when my speach offends, prey corrigible and facultative you are to your own resentment made. We are as these great men, each of us from different countries coming from; your place of birth to which you reflect, is of much degree beyond my own and the like in me goes for you to well pressed and accommodated degrees. I come to your country but forgive me for my strange vernacular and diaclect, that we may benefit from our commuting spirits. Will you not agree to this at least; art is like the metaphor partialy at least, that is, it is reflexive, or imitates before the senses any part of mundane life, it collects and circulates strangely so, meandering in odd paths, but certainly it leads forever further from our waking and somewhat testudinarious and languid experiences. Art then arises from another plane entirely; and collects here as extraneous and juxtapose a thing; the kind to which embarks within the trepid life of a man to exert a tintinnabulation and some unsuasible mode of life in musicality. Art is the involvement with the highest nature of all; the nature of the mind and human, to which like a testa outwardly protects us the woodland spirit resting also to remind us of a higher order then man prevails our purely mathematical minds. You treat it negatively; but the essential truth of life is not purely physical; but a more invisible intellectual and spiritual hypostasis, to which natural and intuitive mechanisms like self-reliance and art are elementary.

Into our account thusly the store of present years by an apolaustic and esurient employment, in some pruient inconstancy it's emissivity becoming of tabescent and etiolated men, and rolling inwardly like the eristic acrimony it is; to the flesh in wont of being mended it pervades our bodies and consumes faithfully it's most optative needment, so that in it's centralizing and bestial aggressions to demand the greatest stilled; the efforts and the ideas of centuries and ages gives into the gossip of tomorrow and yesterday, the conflating of their natures presents one more so then the other. In this state of affairs, I pray I might escape entirely in still amaranthine forms, as that species of flower that never fades into that state of emarcid and decrepit carnality of which so many other natural things eventualy commune at last and forever, and perchance I also in my surrmounting of that palladian world carry all of my beloved with me, and raise them after life as me, a flower of sorts overlooking the resplendent virtues of a truer morality, to which supports itself in the intellect, to which obtains it's most effective manner of being conducted by an association with nature which to one's dying days prevails society. I want to prevail society, into this arrousal of my intellectual- my intellectual desires, in my voice the chords of music playing are of a ravishing and plangent acclamation to which traceably rendered are the philosophers of the ancient world, in my tone and in my phrasing Socrates and maybe even Thoreau are of a gurgitation of heavenly forces scattered as of their basic elements in definability, seeds amongst the winds of God they take root and germinate into my farinaceous sediment, sprouting again reborn as new natural produce, their ideas are born again into my mind and carried further by my hands in the influence of my own conclusion; to which in writing becomes no more a tabescent thing as organs merely, but by some invisible variable in our understandings acclimated in an endurance to which the body is no longer comparable.

If, in my approach to the resolving of life and it's reciprocity to which the intellect might oscillate- in an empathetic bombination as the ogygian God to which demanded true worship resigns the feelings of alienation and depression, I have wrongly acted upon the puissant and cogent ramifications of some unhealthy mind arising from inductance to which accountable we can agree to hold all the product of ill affairs merely, I will glady accept your scorn and mockery to which I find a more excusable offense to dignity then to that shamefull act which the abreption of my self-reliance might implicate in the abandonment of my own philosophy, to which adamant and intrepid always and without the evidence of resignation my Spirit draws resplendency. In it the chitinous racket of the coward is to be heard not of, that which does not simply flee from the situation, but is lacking for himself the reliance to which the true philosophers mend and medicate their undoubtably broken souls, and so in a crassitude of which the accidious men might exact their character, that which their parvanimity is derived consumes; they purport a slowing down of human progress.

To live in a world in which happyness is more important then knowledge, and the sensuous enjoyments are more often then knowledge the object of ambitious minds, one has fallen into not but an accumulation of commodity, to which his life itself is synonymous. Compared to that life of the ancient Greeks, or Romans, or the like; our lives these days are merely vestigial and minatory admonition of some complete isolation from the intellect.

In the greatest poetry piquaint and naughty, he whom would know the Muse appoints himself beyond that acarpous and dapocaginous life, idoneous and to to compile celerity of wit to all know with alacrity and vivacious reason, we all pervade our conscience, and into the augmenting circulations of this sychnocarpous tetricity we are all unified in our neanic and brephic condemnations; like meals still living yet herded by an ignorance of our true and feral relation, we operate our lives suspended in an insularity from OUR true forms, whom are lost in those Greek epics- I sincerely wish a man in their likeness will one day arrest our gallinaceous and graminaceous torpidity.

The superlatively and portentous good, are in the gelastic and vegetous energy constituent and equivocally wrought. Laughter, it is the verisimilitude of philosophy's estimable products- In the right mind, presentable in manner of retorting to the most fossorial or oleaginous of situations, laughter improves always; the fecundious animations to which the communication of all formal philosophy is dependant upon are to this merely of an equal effection, to which we understand as the exerted stuff to which their accountability depends. In laughter, a true variation of philosophy in a manner of being salient and superficial exudes, like poetry a much different stuff then basic discourse, but like a type of sweet to which the soul is attracted to in an intimate and gremial manner.

It to within me dewlls cespititious but remotely; the fodient and epigean creauture is of wont to escape great labefaction to which upon it's feracity and wildness depends, also an amorous and cementitious being is acclimated to gravaminous and graveolent outskirts and is without hope entirely to redeem his standard of living, his inspiration benefited not by these haptic and indign things- yet still in keeping alive his love improves himself of all common hamartia; in me I am in an unconditionaly operational attachment to few people, and for them my life is inadequate in want of renewal, but merely their expendable and indebted ally, secondly in spite of misfortune and misery, my drive for knowledge becomes not a drive anymore; but a lifeline and focalization into which spills and circulates me in my entirety; of no correllation to your physical tirfle, solidified in it, knowledge pushes me, I do not push towards it.

Writing and reading, in them I am in fulfillment of my human and whither I go unread and disregarded, in me established thus is a great concatenation of men, and in me is the operations of many an inanimate author to which in as best can be put a various gradation of cibations my mind is thusly woven with. What man is better then I? To what man I ask that can improve me; to which God of yours might I go to extract a sound contention? Nay, of all the sciences and professions, and even if into account taken is all the visible forms of art, my product is supreme; and to the human soul appears no greater beauty then in words.

By a specification of God, in want of a conductive agent of a being atramentarious, in to spill the stuff of our intermingiling and thus commuted spirits, by the irreption of vertiginous and indurate charm in the transvection of the Muse! That cachinnatory creativity, ephemeral by all means but in no such way cachaemic and apopemptic in it's nature, but rather to be best suited by a being treated with respect. Oh those writers whom do not appreciate good revision! The poem is a thing which begs to be redigested by the spirit over many days, and to be in itself converted many times in want of establishing the nakedness of the individual.

That obdurate tachydidaxy of leaving a poem yet revised, though most delectable at inception, is but in truth, not but the soul infibulated in a body of vulgar hebetations; there can never be a poem to revised, in your own consumptive wont make better that which to temporal nature is improved. But the child is at the fundamental level characterized with most efficacy by that vicissitudinous and formative state of his mind, and so in the likeness of childhood fecundity, my mind has encouraged me to revise my writing as children revise themselves in the prodjection of their pneumatic freinds. The commodius and panomphean pocket of the world, that presents itself in precocious and incipient forms as that prematurity which, even so being young and untried, is so great a thing, and a recirculation of it's caducous vapors is a redispensation of the afflatus it is- and yet a reinvigorating of it. What is all of this? The things written, as language is the sum of man.

The mind is of the greatest paucity of reprehensible considerations by having conterminous all internal faculties; that is to say, ephemerous passions and those pursuits with rudimentary spontaneity are to be avoided; and all the desired sciences are in harmonious arrangements and relations of themselves, so that the focus of the mind is upon one thing at a time, and like the appellative tool might be used for many particular things. I should be a philosopher one day, and a poet the next, and although they might at times commute between themselves odd words, their identities are seperate such as that their lives are complete of experiences and not shared, and so at every moment I am one of the two, and at every moment into me I either am at my thinking or my working, but such as I am in the manner of wanting no abirritative mark in my devisal, I seperate them and when conducting my hands point my mind to them and remain upon that working in a conic manner. The somniferous will have displacency in what life requires focus, such as that distraction is the means to torpify in likeness of a strong opiate more then simply the body. For the mind to correlate itself, the temperant genius must improve itself by means of abstinence and self-destruction. Only will the self be placated and propitiated when it becomes aquainted with all it's most unbearable causality and dominates itself by a complete association with death.

With all the ampelideous and amadelphous things of the human mind, extending in all directions and growing as in one great garden; I lose myself in thinking about how such an abundance of things might go on without leaving the general state of the world as pacable. In a myopic outlook, the nectars of life are absolved from intercourse with the body's more necessary faculties; in one's view through the lens of philosophy, allopatric as the scope of ignorance was, the self-destructiveness and the emaciated morals of un-intelligence are put to immobile terms and become but perdulous. The greatest enemy of man is the lack of intelligence, and man's greatest benefactor is philosophy.

My philosophy was erinous goety and testaceous, within it the embryo of my being drew in nutrients and was protected from an outwardly throbbing stagnation- at times, aided by various devices, was by ingressant forces subtracted, or otherwise washed away. Upon it's actuation by reason, and a mind ossified by sobriety, I was complete again and beco 		070908
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LeoNNeon me to think of my life and all lives a hypogeous epigynum onto which study and scilence were to be pronounced. Into perturbations and silence I found the mind to grow best, that above even learning under great masters these varieties of supplements might be approached and at lengthy meditations succedaneous. That in strange and quiet places, the mind is pushed and stimulated and at length might the most beneficial thinking incur the truest products. That the truest products of life are not necessarily happiness or exuberance; but that they are yet with some interpersonal significance, yet again though unrecognizable from loneliness or suffering- for these are it's precursors and necessary things in want to pacify and claim the self for self.

The most ripe of all life's viable produce; like apothegmatic and spissated writers provided their means of substantiation at the rudimentary benefactors of concept and context; in the likeness of leguminous plant life with their pods in approaching animal necessity, have allowed me in their consummate palpation to assert the qualities of my life experience in recognition of beauty as to the enervating of unrequired expindentures such as the configuring of true or false, which might become most unbearable to the philosopher with little time of which to improve the many things which need improving and is precocious of his cerebrations. The life that in few years has aquainted itself with much intellectual property is to be esteemed as a greater thing then that life which in many years has made much use of study to represent all the great literary figures or perchance afixed itself to rumination merely, in losing the taste of childish tentation and generative haeccity many books become the binding God and defeat themselves in subsequent lassitudes of the mind; somewhat rumored ambiguous next to lazyness though with indefinite figure.

The temerarious and hortensial birds were resplendent beyond my various recollection in their pennaceous commonality, to exude some accurate philocaly and such of them consecrate effectualy their sovereignty, immeasurable energies would usurp the foundations of my cultivated fields; all around, that is to say, not merely those in which flying birds were watched as entertainment or commodity, but also the congruous faculties of my erroneous mind would become destitute of their respectively vital juices; for our languages forever have no real place in them.

While the common and gregarian men are of their optative strains as epulose and at best lambent nodes of cogitative operations- by the restorations of somatic forms merely; and what the chrestomathic and cutaneous sciences prescribe to be learned they intend to practice- I am made lapideous and olamic, as motivated by a means ineffable, and also actuated by a sublimate order of empyrean law- of which, in the most turgid of convictions, has of my philosophic integument proved an amenable and amorphous substance, and has upon it left a signature; by temperance and abstinence, study and rejuvenation of my naval's society with nature, and by the declination of victual in excessive quantity, I have moved my order of appetite by a respect to the visible forms of morning, and by it's subsequent and deserved jentacular phoenexity, viviparous with a definite conviviality of which to satisfy all the celestial faculties of one's self and set THOSE about the path which makes no tangent in the cunctative atmospheres. All subsequent meals are of no general terms but meager and supplemental in want to extend to concluding the progenetorial and primordial breakfast by lengths provided in which to leave it's effects as a palpable host throughout one's most lengthy day.

And while most esemplastic men are installed upon society so as to behave in autoecious and psittaceous vermin, as conducted forthwith by the sensuous pursuits; and such as that, of their own unexplored "temple in head", are but catachthonian and parochial creatures- I am by the aforementioned axioms a distinct entity, apart from them; and their tentiginous and runcible fancy, unobservant to the callipygian caryatids(1) that distract them from a more sober cognition. Words, Poems, Essays, Plays, Art- these are a more effeminate produce of which to might possibly yield a more estimable son or daughter, and more a benefactor to my race of thoughts. The cutaneous house is but an ill presage upon my senses, and the bodily form of their human is but acatacleptic and without my admission.

The appetite is concerned with not but egregrious and splenetic humors of which to be treated with a temperant genius, and of any contingency of succedaneous approaches there are to be found the destitution of that which we might be wishful to come up upon, and in the looking for them, emaciation of one's character is incurred; that languish and tabescent dog, alacrious yet pulicous comes to retain his body from absolute corruption by the fulfillment of various faculties not submitting to mere hunger, but of want to keep a higher society(1).

And like that paternalistic dog, I long for some higher society. My sebaceous mind in a gala trochiline and hesperian is excited thus; for temporal discomforting will not bereave me of my tenacity, as to the pursuits of knowledge and art and words or distract me from these more appealing lives. Volition has moved me to some deserted area; derelict and of the optative placidities common men root themselves in, not but a vacant store; yet all of this was in humble request, for like I said:a higher society moreso then happyness on my own sake proved my standard, and now amongst the various, terrible sights I might catch a glimpse or two of something heavenly, and in an instant earth and it's misdirected men dissipate; becoming the halituous and diaphanous trivialites that they are, as happyness gives into ecstacy; my life consumed by particular wisdom.







End?

*Glossary
Ampelideous-Ampelidaceae
Tribuloid-Tribuloides
Trochilidine-Trochilidae


(1d) The Poets authored the mythologies and religious texts upon which all human thought is invested, as the guidance of the stem.

(cd)hypenemian; hypenemia

For the poetical section
Annotations
1 Those pursuits which art intellectual.
2 The Provider of Modern Man; Science.
3 The scientific want: the fulfillment of curiosity by means of begetting answers.
4 The industry of Art and Poetry
5 The Eternal Feminine: Used in conjunction with Philosophy and Art to explain the role of women in the cosmos of Men's Minds. 		070908
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