Sinz & Esinz
An Introspective Odyssey Through Life’s Philosophical and Mysterious Paradoxes
James Bruce Martin &
Paul Bryce Martin
Reflections of Sinz & Esinz
© 2025 James Bruce Martin & Paul Bryce Martin
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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Cover Art: The Square Red Head Warrior by Paul Martin
Editorial Architect & Cover Design: Elizabeth Avelar ISBN: [Amazon KDP Assigned ISBN]
Printed in the United States of America
Table of contents
FOREWORD………………………………………………………………………… 1
PREFACE……………………………………………………………………………. 5
TWO BROTHERS…………………………………………………………………. 7
THE INTANGIBLES OF WEAKNESS………………………………………. 7
TO SEEK IS TO BE……………………………………………………………….. 8
THE TRELLIS………………………………………………………………………. 8
KNOWLEDGE AND FORESIGHT…………………………………………….. 8
THE WEARIED TRAVELERS………………………………………………….. 9
TO STRIVE FOR SUBSTANCE………………………………………………. 9
MINOR IMPOSITIONS…………………………………………………………. 9
THE SMILE OF A MOCKINGBIRD…………………………………………. 9
THE CHANGELING……………………………………………………………. 10
TRUE REVELATION…………………………………………………………… 10
THE QUEST………………………………………………………………………. 10
THE SALIENT AND THE DECEIVED…………………………………….. 11
FAIR TIDES FISHER…………………………………………………………… 11
PROSPER…………………………………………………………………………. 12
CRADLE CAT’S EYE…………………………………………………………… 12
THE KEEPER…………………………………………………………………….. 12
THE TRICKSTER OF CONCEPT…………………………………………… 13
ETERNITY………………………………………………………………………… 13
TIME’S PERDITION…………………………………………………………… 13
DISSOLVED TRANSLUCENCE…………………………………………….. 14
THE LAND OF THE GIANTS……………………………………………….. 15
OCTAGONAL PARADOX……………………………………………………. 15
DAMNATION……………………………………………………………………. 16
RADIANT SOLACE……………………………………………………………. 16
SUBLIME ANTIQUITY………………………………………………………… 17
A FIRE ANGEL’S ECLIPSE………………………………………………….. 17
PEDANTIC PHILOSOPHY…………………………………………………… 18
DISCRETIONARY POLITICS……………………………………………….. 18
THE NIGHTCRAWLER……………………………………………………….. 19
THE TRUTH………………………………………………………………………. 19
THE ORATOR OF AMBROSIA……………………………………………… 20
THE LAMB AND THE LION…………………………………………………. 20
SALUTAR AVARTE’…………………………………………………………….. 21
THE SERPENT’S TONGUE………………………………………………….. 21
THE STATUE…………………………………………………………………….. 22
SARDONIC AGONY……………………………………………………………. 22
TRANSIENT PEACE…………………………………………………………… 23
IMMINENT BEING…………………………………………………………….. 24
ARGYLE ESCAPE………………………………………………………………. 24
VEILED HORIZONS…………………………………………………………… 25
THE SMILE OF THE SANDMAN…………………………………………. 25
THE WINGED ARGONAUT…………………………………………………. 26
MERCY’S BOUQUET………………………………………………………….. 26
SAND DUNE LITHOGRAPHS……………………………………………… 27
THE STRANGLEHOLD JUDGE…………………………………………… 27
THE BULLFIGHTER…………………………………………………………… 28
THE FLIP SIDE………………………………………………………………….. 28
THE QUIET EYES OF SOLITUDE…………………………………………. 29
THE MARCH TO DESTINY…………………………………………………. 29
THE CAT BY THE DOOR ……………………..……………………………….….. 30
THE SORCERESSES OF SALDIA…………………………………………. 30
EPHEMERAL TRANSITION………………………………………………… 30
THE ART OF STAYING BUSY……………………………………………… 31
THE MONSTER CLAWED BEHEMOTH……………………………….. 31
THE BLOOD OF REASON………………………………………………….. 32
I WILL USE IT……………………………………………………………………. 32
VACUOUS OFFERINGS………………………………………………………. 33
THE PRECIPICE………………………………………………………………… 33
EXTEMPORANEOUS QUANDARY……………………………………….. 34
THE LOST SHOEHORN……………………………………………………… 34
SPIRITUM MEUM………………………………………………………………. 34
VAGUEINSITE LOGIC…………………………………………………………. 35
ABSOLUTE FAITH……………………………………………………………… 35
FIRE AND ICE……………………………………………………………………. 36
THE ROCK IN THE SHOE……………………………………………………. 36
LITTLE BIRD……………………………………………………………………… 37
CONSTANCE…………………………………………………………………….. 37
THE SUREFIRE STRAGGLER……………………………………………… 38
INFINITE CONSCIOUSNESS………………………………………………. 38
A COMEDY OF DRAMA……………………………………………………… 39
DELICIOUS DEMISE………………………………………………………….. 39
FAITH AND DOUBT……………………………………………………………. 40
HAPPENSTANCE………………………………………………………………. 40
THE INTREPID………………………………………………………………….. 40
FAITH AND DOUBT…………………………………………………………… 41
THE GUILT OF THE AGES…………………………………………………. 41
ENMITIES FERVOR…………………………………………………………… 42
SATURN’S TWIST ……………………………………………………………………. 42
TOUCAN RHAPSODIES…………………………………………………….. 43
REDUX POSH SANGUINITY……………………………………………….. 43
PRECONCEIVED DESTINIES……………………………………………… 44
THE VOID OF RECIPROCATING SUNLIGHT………………………… 44
AB INITIO………………………………………………………………………… 44
THE LAMENTATIONS OF THIEVES…………………………………… 45
THE REVOLVER………………………………………………………………. 45
UNREQUITED BEING……………………………………………………….. 45
UNREQUITED RESOLUTIONS…………………………………………… 46
THE WORDS OF PAUPERS……………………………………………….. 46
UNREQUITED RESOLUTIONS……………………………………………. 47
TRANSPARENT OPTIMISM………………………………………………. 47
VINDICATION…………………………………………………………………… 47
DESTABILIZED REEMERGENCE………………………………………… 48
EPHEMERAL TOXICITY…………………………………………………….. 48
STERTOROUS SENTIMENTALITY……………………………………… 49
STAGNANT TRANQUILITY……………………………………………….. 49
THE SHADOW OF A SMILE……………………………………………….. 49
PALLIATIVE GEOMETRIC CONSTRUCTS…………………………… 50
DISREPAIR OF THOUGHT…………………………………………………. 50
THE BITTER TRUTH………………………………………………………….. 50
BAKED ALASKA……………………………………………………………….. 51
TRANSFIGURATION – DISPARATE REALITIES…………………….. 51
EXISTENTIAL JUSTIFICATION………………………………………….. 52
HOPE………………………………………………………………………………. 52
THE FALLEN ARCH ANGEL………………………………………………. 52
DEEP DELUSION………………………………………………………………. 53
ETERNITY …………………………………………………..……………………….…… 53
THE ARCHER’S ARROW…………………………………………………….. 54
THE ASHES OF MAYHEM………………………………………………….. 54
BICYCLE LOGIC………………………………………………………………… 55
BOMBASTIC GRUNTS………………………………………………………… 55
TO THE WOLVES……………………………………………………………….. 56
JUST PORTENT…………………………………………………………………. 56
SARTRE’S GHOST……………………………………………………………… 56
THE LOST WATCH…………………………………………………………….. 57
THE NIGHT IS CALLING…………………………………………………….. 57
WICKED DIGESTION………………………………………………………….. 58
SATURN’S SUN………………………………………………………………….. 58
SUBLIME RECOMPENSE……………………………………………………. 58
THE TONGUES OF WISDOM……………………………………………….. 59
SOJOURN………………………………………………………………………….. 59
SYNTAX COLLUSION………………………………………………………….. 60
A SPARROW’S DREAM……………………………………………………….. 60
TAILGATE LOGIC………………………………………………………………… 61
OBNOXIOUS QUANDARY…………………………………………………….. 61
ENTITLEMENT…………………………………………………………………… 62
A TEMPTING APPLE………………………………………………………….. 62
THE VOID OF SILENCE………………………………………………………. 62
THE SOD GATHERER…………………………………………………………. 63
THE SALAMANDER…………………………………………………………… 63
LA CUCARACHA……………………………………………………………….. 64
CONSCIOUS AMPLIFICATION……………………………………………. 64
SUMMER’S BREATH………………………………………………………….. 65
THE ISOTOPE’S REVENGE…………………………………………………. 65
SAUCE OR TEA LEAVES……………………………..………………………….….66
THE JESTER’S DRAGONS………………………………………………….. 67
EVERYTHING……………………………………………………………………. 67
OL’ DAWG…………………………………………………………………………. 68
STONE COLD KILLER………………………………………………………… 69
DISSOLUTION OF THE UNIVERSE……………………………………… 70
THE ERSTWHILE STRANGER……………………………………………. 70
PARADOXICAL ISOLATION……………………………………………….. 71
SILVER CHALICES…………………………………………………………….. 71
THE SNAKE……………………………………………………………………… 71
THE JESTER’S PLEASURE…………………………………………………. 72
THE STONED FIDDLE GIRL……………………………………………….. 72
FUTURITY………………………………………………………………………… 73
INNOCUOUS FOREBODING………………………………………………. 73
THE EYE EATER……………………………………………………………….. 73
THE OATH………………………………………………………………………… 74
THE SAGA OF A STONE-COLD KILLER……………………………….. 74
DISJUNCT INTROSPECTION……………………………………………… 75
THE TRANSLATION OF EVIL……………………………………………… 75
THE STORM OF DISSOLUTION………………………………………….. 76
THE SOP WITH CAMEL……………………………………………………… 76
SOONER OR LATER…………………………………………………………… 77
CAVEMAN JARGON…………………………………………………………… 77
THE ARROWHEAD…………………………………………………………….. 77
THE SPEAKEASY GAMBLER……………………………………………… 78
THE SWORD OF CAESAR…………………………………………………… 79
THE SAYERS OF CITIES…………………………………………………….. 79
THE PARADIGM OF PURGATORY………………………………………. 80
THE SANGUINARIA…………………………………………………..……………….81
CONVIVIAL RETICENCE…………………………………………………… 81
THE FLIGHT OF A HUMMINGBIRD……………………………………. 81
SIMPLICITY………………………………………………………………………. 82
THE MERCURY…………………………………………………………………. 82
HOT LEGS PAULIE……………………………………………………………. 83
FREE FOREVER………………………………………………………………… 84
THE SERPENT AND THE SAINT………………………………………… 84
THE KING………………………………………………………………………… 85
ENDLESS OSCILLATION…………………………………………………… 85
ABJECT ABROGATION……………………………………………………… 85
IN EXACT MEASURE…………………………………………………………. 86
THE FORBIDDEN……………………………………………………………… 86
BLOOD ON THE SNOW…………………………………………………….. 87
THE LOGIC OF MATERIALISM………………………………………….. 87
HOPE AND COURAGE………………………………………………………. 87
SPARROWS CHIRPING……………………………………………………… 88
RIDE THE ROAD, JOHNNY………………………………………………… 88
NO LONGER IN THE HOLD OF INSPIRATION……………………… 89
LEAVES OF LITTLE SENSE………………………………………………… 89
DELIVER THE QUIVER………………………………………………………. 89
SCMT………………………………………………………………………………… 89
WONDER WHY?………………………………………………………………… 90
DON’T RUN OVER A TOAD………………………………………………… 90
PERPLEXING ISLANDS OF HOPE & DESPAIR………………… …. 90
WIND? BLOW? REALITY? PERCEPTION?……………………………. 90
MEANINGLESS INCONGRUITIES………………………………………. 91
MAZE………………………………………………………………………………. 91
SWORD OF JUSTICE ………………………………………………………….….…91
THE GLORY……………………………………………………………………… 91
COLD DAY IN HELL………………………………………………………….. 92
WHEN SHE WALKS INTO A ROOM……………………………………. 92
GET YOUR BEARINGS………………………………………………………. 92
THE PEDESTRIAN…………………………………………………………….. 93
EXPECTATIONS EXPLANATIONS………………………………………. 93
DEFEAT……………………………………………………………………………. 93
SPIRIT’S HALVES………………………………………………………………. 93
PERIPHERAL KNOWLEDGE………………………………………………. 94
ONLY TO DENY…………………………………………………………………. 94
X’S AND Y’S………………………………………………………………………. 94
THE HEAVENS BENEATH YOUR HAND……………………………….. 94
DO THE MATH………………………………………………………………….. 95
SEE THE VOID………………………………………………………………….. 95
DEVIL……………………………………………………………………………….. 95
ON FREEDOM…………………………………………………………………… 95
ON WONDER……………………………………………………………………. 95
TRIM THE FAT, ASK FOR NOTHING……………………………………. 96
ETERNAL PESTILENCE…………………………………………………….. 97
MILLENNIUMS OF TERROR………………………………………………. 97
RAMIFY……………………………………………………………………………. 97
TWILIGHT………………………………………………………………………… 97
THE ARROW FINDS ITS MARK………………………………………….. 98
DUALITY…………………………………………………………………………… 98
REGRET & SORROW………………………………………………………….. 98
A MAN’S LIFE……………………………………………………………………. 98
WINNING STEPS……………………………………………………………….. 99
HORSE SENSE………………………………………………………………….…………99
ON TRAGEDY……………………………………………………………………. 99
THE CHALICE…………………………………………………………………… 99
NOTHING AND EVERYTHING……………………………………………. 99
BEYOND BENEVOLENT INSOLENCE……………………………….. 100
TIMEKEEPER OF MERCY………………………………………………… 100
ONLY THROUGH QUESTIONING…………………………………….. 100
WINDOWS OR SHADOWS?………………………………………………. 101
QUALITY IN, ERASURE OFF……………………………………………… 101
ON IRRESPONSIBILITY……………………………………………………. 101
COME BACK, SOPHIE………………………………………………………. 101
BLOOD IN THE RIVER…………………………………………………….. 102
PASS THE COCOA KRISPIES……………………………………………. 102
CITY OF DROWNING SOULS…………………………………………… 102
UNBOUNDED FREE WILL………………………………………………… 103
WHISPER OF HOPE…………………………………………………………. 103
A PENNY LESS………………………………………………………………… 103
ENJOY THE EVE……………………………………………………………… 103
ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES OF NEW ADVENTURES………………. 104
UNDERESTIMATED………………………………………………………… 104
ENEMY OF MYSELF………………………………………………………… 104
MAN AND DOG………………………………………………………………. 104
ON GLORY AND PAIN…………………………………………………….. 105
SHELTER IN THE STORM………………………………………………… 105
THE SABRE’S EDGE………………………………………………………… 105
THE FISHING POLE………………………………………………………… 106
TRIBULATIONS OF A MISCREANT…………………………………… 106
WE WILL BE OKAY………………………………………………………….. 107
OR I CAN WAIT………………………………………..………………………………107
IN A LINE OF VAGABONDS…………………………………………….. 108
BE THE FIGHT………………………………………………………………… 108
THE DUST THAT STIRS MY FEET…………………………………….. 109
BAD TIME, GOOD TIME………………………………………………….. 109
SOFIA’S LAMENT……………………………………………………………. 109
HELL IS WAITING…………………………………………………………… 110
ON EXERTING EFFORT…………………………………………………… 110
ATTACK!………………………………………………………………………… 110
BE NOT YOUR ONLY SALVATION…………………………………….. 110
BAD DREAMS, BAD DREAMS…………………………………………… 111
THE BEAUTY OF IMPERFECTION…………………………………….. 112
SIDEWAYS MOON……………………………………………………………. 112
WAR IS HELL…………………………………………………………………… 113
UPSIDE / DOWNSIDE………………………………………………………. 113
NATIVES OF A FOREIGN LAND………………………………………… 113
GOODNESS OF THE SOUL………………………………………………. 113
SAVING GRACE………………………………………………………………. 114
ASSUME / EXPECT………………………………………………………….. 114
LET IT ROLL……………………………………………………………………. 114
PEACE OF MIND……………………………………………………………… 114
NOT WORTH A TEAR………………………………………………………. 114
BRING IT!……………………………………………………………………….. 115
ANTIQUATED ANTHEM…………………………………………………… 115
DIGGING IN THE DIRT…………………………………………………….. 115
SIDE STEP REASONER…………………………………………………….. 116
HEART WORK…………………………………………………………………. 116
STARE OR AWARE?…………………………………………………………. 116
LIFE AND DEATH…………………………………………………………..……….. 116
LAUNCH ALL WEAPONS…………………………………………………. 117
I CAN’T FALL OUT OF LOVE WITH YOU……………………………. 117
TWEEDLEDEE & TWEEDLEDUM………………………………………. 117
DO-ABLE?………………………………………………………………………. 117
NO CLARITY IN TRUTH…………………………………………………… 118
IN MY HOUSE?………………………………………………………………… 118
ANOMALOUS CERTITUDE……………………………………………….. 118
ASCERTAIN OR PAIN………………………………………………………. 118
WHISTLESTOP TROUBADOUR………………………………………… 119
CATHARSIS’S DAUGHTER……………………………………………….. 119
DREAMS THAT CAN NEVER COME TRUE………………………… 119
COUNTRY BOY……………………………………………………………….. 120
WOULD THAT BRING YOU BACK?…………………………………… 120
TROUBLES……………………………………………………………………… 120
REDEMPTIVE COLLUSION………………………………………………. 121
PRISON OF MY SOUL……………………………………………………… 121
TOUGH OUT THERE……………………………………………………….. 122
PRISON OF MY SOUL………………………………………………………. 122
JAGGED SWORD……………………………………………………………… 122
MERCY……………………………………………………………………………. 122
AIN’T MY BUSINESS………………………………………………………… 123
BIZARRE…………………………………………………………………………. 123
CRYING SHAME………………………………………………………………. 123
THE MEASURE OF AN ARTIST’S LIFE……………………………….. 123
ABANDONED SAILOR……………………………………………………… 124
MISTAKES AS OPPORTUNITIES……………………………………….. 124
ON DEATH……………………………………………………………………… 124
LIVE YE IN THE FUTURE………………………..………………………………. 124
OBFUSCATION TECHNIQUE…………………………………………….. 125
NOMENCLATURE OF BETRAYAL……………………………………… 125
RHETORIC OF SCOUNDRELS………………………………………….. 125
ON HATE AND LOVE………………………………………………………. 125
LEISURE CITY…………………………………………………………………. 126
THE GATE………………………………………………………………………. 126
TANK OF WATER AND OF GUNS………………………………………. 126
FINIS………………………………………………………………………………. 126
THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS……………………………………………. 127
ON GOOD AND EVIL, LOVE AND HATE,…………………………….. 127
MORALITY……………………………………………………………………… 127
RINGS AROUND THE MOON………………………………………….. 127
THE QUESTION………………………………………………………………. 128
THERAPEUTIC REASONINGS………………………………………….. 128
STARS IN YOUR EYES……………………………………………………… 128
PROGENITOR OF WORDS……………………………………………….. 128
GHOST TOWN MANNEQUINS…………………………………………. 129
THE ARCHER’S WHIM…………………………………………………….. 129
NINE TIMES OUT OF TEN……………………………………………….. 129
HORSESHOE COWBOY……………………………………………………. 130
TWO PISTOLS………………………………………………………………… 130
END OF THE END……………………………………………………………. 130
WHO AND HOW……………………………………………………………… 130
CREATION’S MASK…………………………………………………………. 131
EVERYTHING / NOTHING……………………………………………….. 131
CHUMP CHANGE INTROSPECTIONS………………………………. 131
MEADOW OF DELUSION…………………………………………………. 131
FABRICATED PERSONA………………………………………….……………….132
PRECIPICE OF DOUBT…………………………………………………….. 132
THE SKINNY…………………………………………………………………… 132
SANDMAN’S DELUSION………………………………………………….. 132
FAITH…………………………………………………………………………….. 133
DANCING IN MY HEAD…………………………………………………… 133
THE VASTNESS OF NONENTITY…………………………………….. 133
DEPENDS……………………………………………………………………….. 133
LUCKY DOG……………………………………………………………………. 134
BEAUTIFUL REGRETS……………………………………………………… 134
ESSENCE OF TRANSGRESSION……………………………………….. 134
HILL OF BEANS………………………………………………………………. 135
CURB BLURB…………………………………………………………………… 135
FRIENDS…………………………………………………………………………. 135
DARK OF DUSK’S DEMISE……………………………………………….. 135
DEDUCTIONS OF MADMEN…………………………………………….. 136
THE MONUMENT……………………………………………………………. 136
ENLIGHTENMENT’S FIRST STAGE…………………………………… 136
TRAIL OF SNAIL GUTS…………………………………………………….. 136
INFINITE CURIOSITIES……………………………………………………. 137
BRING IT………………………………………………………………………… 137
SERVANT’S HOUSE…………………………………………………………. 137
WASPS OF SUMMER……………………………………………………….. 137
HELL TO PAY………………………………………………………………….. 137
ON LOVE………………………………………………………………………… 138
COHERENT INCOHERENCE…………………………………………….. 138
SUMMIT OF SUMMATIONS………………………………………………. 138
WELCOME FRIENDS OF JESUS………………………………………… 139
FOOD FOR THOUGHT………..……………………………………………….……139
DUALITY OF DUALITY……………………………………………………… 139
DOUBLE YOUR PLEASURE, DOUBLE YOUR FUN……………….. 140
A CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE………………………………….. 140
.RESOLUTE DESTINY……………………………………………………….. 140
SWEET DESPAIR……………………………………………………………… 140
THESAURUS……………………………………………………………………. 141
ROAD TO OBLIVION………………………………………………………… 141
ON STUPIDITY & REALITY………………………………………………… 141
DOG……………………………………………………………………………….. 141
THE BLUES IS A GOOD THING…………………………………………. 142
CAST OUT ANGEL…………………………………………………………… 143
WHY WE RIDE………………………………………………………………… 143
THE POKER-FACED DERRINGER DUDE…………………………….. 143
NICE AND HONEST…………………………………………………………. 144
ON BEING INVOLVED…………………………………………………….. 144
ON LEARNING……………………………………………………………….. 144
BEWITCHMENT……………………………………………………………… 144
IDIOT DEPENDENCY………………………………………………………. 144
ANTICIPATION OF IMMORTALITY…………………………………… 145
ABANDONED WORDS…………………………………………………….. 145
HOW WE ALL CAN GO TO HEAVEN………………………………… 145
AT THE BECKON OF ENVY’S WHIM………………………………… 146
THE FLIGHT OF A GULL…………………………………………………. 146
NOTHINGNESS FOUND………………………………………………….. 146
AS WE WHIRL…………………………………………………………………. 147
OF TRILOGIES………………………………………………………………… 147
I SHOULD……………………………………………………………………….. 147
INCOMPREHENSIBILITIES OF TIME………………………………………148
DISHARMONY OF DEFEAT……………………………………………… 148
CONUNDRUM OF THE HUMAN CONDITION……………………. 148
BEGGAR OF SILK……………………………………………………………. 148
THE MAD CARD……………………………………………………………… 149
EMBRACE ENTROPY……………………………………………………….. 149
ERASERS…………………………………………………………………………. 149
THE HEROIC STRUGGLES OF EVERYDAY PEOPLE……………. 150
SOMEWHERE………………………………………………………………….. 150
WINDS OF CHANGE……………………………………………………….. 150
THE SCIENCE OF A GENESIS…………………………………………… 151
PURSUIT OF TRUTH………………………………………………………… 151
CRUCIBLE………………………………………………………………………. 151
DIALECTIC OF AN APE……………………………………………………. 152
RUN TO THE RIDGE………………………………………………………… 152
EMBRACE THE TRUTH OF NOT KNOWING………………………. 152
THE ECSTASY OF BEING………………………………………………… 152
THERE’S ALWAYS TIME………………………………………………….. 153
THIS NINE LIVES THING………………………………………………… 153
PAUPER AMONG THE TRUE GODS OF WISDOM………………. 153
BE BEWILDERED……………………………………………………………. 154
PISSED OFF…………………………………………………………………….. 154
WHATEVER…………………………………………………………………….. 154
DISPARATE HOPE…………………………………………………………… 154
ON BROKEN HEARTS……………………………………………………… 155
PHILOSOPHY OF FINIS……………………………………………………. 155
HOLD THE MAYO…………………………………………………………… 155
WOUNDS OF ABROGATION……………………………………………. 156
PROS AND CONS……………………………………………………………………156
HIGH NOON…………………………………………………………………… 156
GOD’S PRESENCE…………………………………………………………… 157
DEFIANCE………………………………………………………………………. 157
FLIPPANCY OF FAME………………………………………………………. 158
THE BULLSEYE SHAKESPEAREAN…………………………………… 158
TWO RIDERS…………………………………………………………………… 159
THE REDACTICAL…………………………………………………………… 159
GET REDACTICAL…………………………………………………………… 159
SURVIVOR………………………………………………………………………. 160
DISHEVELED ONE………………………………………………………….. 160
SAY NOW……………………………………………………………………….. 160
TO BEE OR NOT TO BEE…………………………………………………. 160
TELLTALE TIME……………………………………………………………… 161
GO FISH…………………………………………………………………………. 161
HELL TO PAY………………………………………………………………….. 161
ON BELIEVING……………………………………………………………….. 162
TINIEST ANT…………………………………………………………………… 162
THE PROBLEM WITH BEING GOD……………………………………. 162
REMISSION’S PARDON……………………………………………………. 163
THE WHITTLER………………………………………………………………. 163
PORTAL OF ESPIONAGE…………………………………………………. 163
INTROSPECTIVE CALAMITY……………………………………………. 163
OS TI EB…………………………………………………………………………. 164
OATH TO PARADISE……………………………………………………….. 164
DIAMETRIC DISSOLUTION……………………………………………… 164
THE MARRIED BACHELOR……………………………………………… 164
SERVICE ELEVATOR……………………………………………………….. 165
UNLESS WE DREAM…………………………………………..……………………165
AVORACIOUS AND THE DEVIL’S BACKBONE…………………… 165
THE NEVER MIND SAVANT…………………………………………….. 166
HEARSAY KNOWLEDGE…………………………………………………. 167
PROSAIC ANOMALIES……………………………………………………. 167
INDIGESTIBLE NOTIONS………………………………………………… 167
DREAMS………………………………………………………………………… 168
WRITERS OF LITTLE WORDS…………………………………………… 168
PRISONER………………………………………………………………………. 168
THE END………………………………………………………………………… 168
HUE OF NECTAR…………………………………………………………….. 169
SUPERFLUOUS JUSTIFICATIONS……………………………………… 169
RIPTIDE BLUES……………………………………………………………….. 170
THE NOMAD…………………………………………………………………… 171
THE TRUE VULCAN………………………………………………………… 171
VICTORY’S REMORSE……………………………………………………… 172
JUST LIKE JESSE JAMES………………………………………………… 173
THE EXCALIBUR INOCULATION………………………………………. 173
SURE BET………………………………………………………………………… 174
INFINITE DISPARITIES…………………………………………………….. 174
SECRET SIGN………………………………………………………………….. 174
ON RESILIENCE……………………………………………………………… 175
THE WHEELWORK OF OUR INSECURITIES……………………….. 175
STAND……………………………………………………………………………. 175
THE INSANITY OF OUR INTUITIONS………………………………… 175
THE DOGS OF MERCURY………………………………………………… 176
BENIGN INDIFFERENCE………………………………………………… 176
TORTOISE………………………………………………………………………. 176
UNSPOKEN DREAMS…………………………………..………………………….176
ON NOVELTY…………………………………………………………………. 177
MAKE ‘EM PAY/EVERY ONE OF ‘EM……………………………….. 177
FODDER FOR THOUGHT………………………………………………… 177
THE DIE IS CAST……………………………………………………………. 178
TALL AND SMALL………………………………………………………….. 178
GURGLE………………………………………………………………………… 178
ON SEEKING, RIGHT AND WRONG………………………………….. 178
POCKETS OF KINGS……………………………………………………….. 179
ON GREATNESS……………………………………………………………… 179
GOOD & BAD, UP & DOWN………………………………………………. 179
ALOHA / SURPRISE…………………………………………………………. 180
ILLITERATE AND ALLITERATE THIS…………………………………. 180
THE DEVIL’S WORST NIGHTMARE:………………………………….. 180
TEARS…………………………………………………………………………….. 181
ON SHRIVELING……………………………………………………………… 181
SAY WHAT?…………………………………………………………………….. 181
FOCUSING ON NEVER & ALWAYS:……………………………………. 181
WAKE ME UP:………………………………………………………………….. 182
SUN, MARS, SON, & BACON:…………………………………………….. 182
SATAN’S SHOE COCOA PEBBLES:…………………………………….. 182
ANARCHICAL WAVE:………………………………………………………. 183
DUALITY OF CONCURRENCY,…………………………………………. 183
DUALITY OF DUALITY…………………………………………………….. 183
HONOR OF A THIEF:………………………………………………………. 183
MENAGERIES…………………………………………………………………. 184
DESTINATION DISILLUSIONMENT…………………………………… 184
FUTURE / PAST………………………………………………………………. 184
GRANE, GRAIN AND BEAR IT……………………………………………..…..185
SNOW OFF A BUFFALO’S BACK……………………………………….. 185
NOWHERE TO GO…………………………………………………………… 185
A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT……………………………………………. 186
FUTURE / PAST……………………………………………………………….. 186
INSOUCIANT SHRUG………………………………………………………. 186
LUCK………………………………………………………………………………. 187
TROUBLED……………………………………………………………………… 187
GOD……………………………………………………………………………….. 188
CALL YOUR ENGINES MIGHTY…………………………………………. 188
THE LEADER………………………………………………………………….. 189
PATRONS OF VIRTUE……………………………………………………… 189
DAY OF STORMS……………………………………………………………… 189
VICTORY…………………………………………………………………………. 190
TROUBLED……………………………………………………………………… 190
ANONYMOUS COMPASSION…………………………………………… 190
THE EYE OF THE PERCEIVER………………………………………….. 191
SECONDARY VISIONS……………………………………………………… 191
THE SWAN………………………………………………………………………. 191
THE UNKNOWN………………………………………………………………. 191
THE ERROR OF YOUR WAYS…………………………………………….. 192
SOLACE…………………………………………………………………………… 192
THE WOLF………………………………………………………………………. 192
THE MOON SEES ALL……………………………………………………… 192
TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE:………………………………………………….. 192
THE STAND…………………………………………………………………….. 193
A FRIEND OF JESUS………………………………………………………… 193
SAINTS AND SINNERS…………………………………………………….. 193
FAITH AND REALITY…………………………………………………………………193
SWORD AND SCRIBE………………………………………………………. 194
A WINDLESS DAY……………………………………………………………. 194
DREAMERS…………………………………………………………………….. 194
THE ROACH GARDEN…………………………………………………….. 195
OBLIVIONS EMPIRE……………………………………………………….. 195
JUSTIFICATION AND HARMONY…………………………………….. 195
ARROGANCE TO HUMILITY……………………………………………. 195
THE CLOAK AND DAGGER POET……………………………………. 196
WHERE THE INK MEETS THE BLOOD…………………………….. 196
THE ESTUARY OF INSOLENCE……………………………………….. 197
THE SEA……………………………………………………………………….. 197
EARTHLY PERCEPTIONS………………………………………………… 197
DA CAPO……………………………………………………………………….. 197
TRANSFIXED IN FATE…………………………………………………….. 198
PERCEIVED INTERVENTION…………………………………………… 198
THE QUEST……………………………………………………………………. 198
ALONE…………………………………………………………………………… 199
INFINITE ETERNITIES……………………………………………………… 199
NOCTURN’S REMEDY……………………………………………………… 199
AFTERMATH…………………………………………………………………… 199
THE HERETIC’S BIBLE…………………………………………………….. 200
SYMBIOTIC CONCEPTIONS…………………………………………….. 200
OBNOXIOUS RESILIENCY………………………………………………… 200
PARADOX……………………………………………………………………….. 201
PARADIGM……………………………………………………………………… 201
DÉJÀ VU MYSTERIES………………………………………………………. 201
RETROSPECTIVE ENCHANTMENT……………………………………. 201
STAND FOR FREEDOM…………………………………………………………….202
A MOMENT’S BREATH…………………………………………………….. 202
NOCTURNAL INTROSPECTION……………………………………….. 202
FRIENDSHIP……………………………………………………………………. 202
ASCOT WARRIOR……………………………………………………………. 203
THE FLAG TO VICTORY………………………………………………….. 203
THE EXCALIBUR INOCULATION……………………………………… 203
THE ASTRONOMY OF INCUBATES………………………………….. 204
BROKEN CLAY………………………………………………………………… 204
A GALLANT STEED…………………………………………………………. 204
THE PURVEYOR OF LANTERNS………………………………………. 205
RISING SUN……………………………………………………………………. 205
TO FLY FROM EDEN……………………………………………………….. 205
REVERIE TRANSPIRED……………………………………………………. 205
EQUINOX……………………………………………………………………….. 206
TRESPASS………………………………………………………………………. 206
YESTERDAY……………………………………………………………………. 206
SEA OF LIFE……………………………………………………………………. 206
THE TRUTH…………………………………………………………………….. 207
ASTRONOMY’S DICTATES……………………………………………….. 207
CHOICES…………………………………………………………………………. 207
WHISTLE OF A PASSING TRAIN……………………………………….. 208
TOMORROW……………………………………………………………………. 208
SOUVENIR………………………………………………………………………. 208
THE COOL SIDE………………………………………………………………. 209
BENIGNITY…………………………………………………………………….. 209
LEATHER PONCHOS……………………………………………………….. 209
THE SNAKE CHARMER’S HIDEOUT…………………………………… 210
THE IMPOSTER…………………………………….………………………………….210
THE DARKNESS………………………………………………………………. 211
RELUCTANT SOOTH SLAYERS………………………………………… 211
RIVERS TO HELL…………………………………………………………….. 211
SINK TO DESPERATION………………………………………………….. 211
UNIVERSAL HARMONY…………………………………………………… 212
A PURGATORY OFFENSE………………………………………………… 212
VORACIOUSLY AWAIT…………………………………………………….. 212
THE GRAVEDIGGER……………………………………………………….. 213
UNRESOLVED DESTINY………………………………………………….. 213
OF POPEYE AND SARTRE……………………………………………….. 213
MY COUCH…………………………………………………………………….. 214
THESIS ENTRANCEMENT……………………………………………….. 214
FISHERMAN OF SOULS…………………………………………………… 215
RUBICONE’S NECKTIE……………………………………………………. 215
THE CHAMPIONS ORACLE……………………………………………… 216
VAPIDITY……………………………………………………………………….. 216
UNSUNG MARTYRS………………………………………………………… 217
TRUTH……………………………………………………………………………. 217
FREEDOM………………………………………………………………………. 217
HUMILITY AND GRACE…………………………………………………… 217
MULTIPLE UNIVERSES……………………………………………………. 218
BEGINNING OF WISDOM………………………………………………… 218
THE RAIN ON FALLEN LEAVES……………………………………….. 218
SATIRICAL SACRIFICE…………………………………………………….. 219
ANNIHILATION………………………………………………………………. 219
ANARCHY AND RHAPSODY……………………………………………. 219
FUNGI ON A ROCK…………….……………………………………………….….219
THE THESPIAN…………………………………………………………….. 220
THE ULTIMATE SOUND………………………………………………….. 220
EITHER WAY…………………………………………………………………… 220
THE TASK……………………………………………………………………….. 221
AWARENESS……………………………………………………………………. 221
SWARTHY PERSPECTIVE…………………………………………………. 221
FAVOR……………………………………………………………………………. 221
TASTY LEFTOVERS…………………………………………………………. 222
BITTERSWEET TRIUMPH………………………………………………… 222
HARMONY………………………………………………………………………. 222
THE LEFTOVERS…………………………………………………………….. 222
THE VENTURE GAME……………………………………………………… 223
SEDATED FEAR………………………………………………………………. 223
INFINITY………………………………………………………………………… 224
ETERNITY………………………………………………………………………. 224
BROKEN PERSPECTIVE…………………………………………………… 224
MEANING AND REVELATIONS………………………………………… 224
THE ALBATROSS…………………………………………………………….. 225
THE STARGAZER……………………………………………………………. 225
THE PARADOX OF HURRY:……………………………………………… 225
TIME’S UNYIELDING PAUSE……………………………………………. 225
THE COWBOY’S LIFE………………………………………………………. 226
WHISPERS OF TIME: THE ETERNAL……………………………….. 226
DANCE OF WAVES AND SHADOWS…………………………………. 226
SUGARPINE AND SYCAMORE…………………………………………. 227
FAITH IN PARADOX: MANKIND’S ETERNAL…………………….. 227
QUEST FOR PROBLEMS…………………………………………………………227
THE TRANSCENDENTAL MUSING…………………………………….….228
LOGIC’S LABYRINTH: THE COMPLEXITY OF……………………. 228
HUMAN UNDERSTANDING……………………………………………. 228
I DIDN’T SEE YOU…………………………………………………………… 229
PERCEPTION’S BURDEN: THE GRAVEDIGGER’S………………. 230
QUEST FOR VALUE………………………………………………………… 230
PERCEPECTIVES UNVEILED…………………………………………… 230
BEYOND SIGHT………………………………………………………………. 231
SINGULAR TRUTHS………………………………………………………… 231
THE PARADOX OF PERDITION………………………………………… 231
CONTRADICTIONS IN MOTION………………………………………. 232
BETWEEN DIVINITY & DECEIT………………………………………… 232
THE PARALYSIS OF FEAR………………………………………………. 233
THE DUAL NATURE OF TRUTH………………………………………. 233
PARTING SHADOWS………………………………………………………. 233
THE KINGS OF RANSOMED SOULS………………………………… 234
THE ARTISIT’S DISMAY AND DELIGHT……………………………. 234
CONTRAPUM INTERRUPTUS…………………………………………… 235
COOKIE DOUGH…………………………………………………………….. 235
STRATEGIC RETREAT……………………………………………………… 235
@^^^*\……………………………………………………………………………. 235
FLOWERS……………………………………………………………………….. 236
1:1=5……………………………………………………………………………….. 236
1:1……………………………………………………………………………………. 236
A MAN BECOMES……………………………………………………………… 237
GURGLING RAZZAMATAZ………………………………………………… 238
RAZZMATAZZ…………………………………………………………………. 238
WHEN IN EGYPT, WHEN IN PERU…………………….……………….…..239
NAVIGATING THE DUALITY……………………………………………………239
THE PAST KNOWS ME…………………………………………………………..239
THE SLANDER OF THOUGHT…………………………………………. 240
THE PARADOX OF KNOWING………………………………………… 240
BEDLAM’S DRIFT…………………………………………………………… 241
THE ROAD THAT FINDS ME……………………………………………. 241
THE RUST OF AGES……………………………………………………….. 242
THE CRUMBLING CITY…………………………………………………… 243
UNMASKING GOD………………………………………………………….. 243
MIGHTY SHIPS……………………………………………………………….. 244
THE GUY NEXT DOOR…………………………………………………….. 244
THE RIGHT ATTIRE………………………………………………………… 244
ETERNAL LOOP……………………………………………………………… 245
UNITY IN CONTRAST……………………………………………………… 245
DUST TO DUST……………………………………………………………….. 245
THE ABYSS OF FREEDOM……………………………………………….. 246
THIRTEEN SENTENCES………………………………………………….. 246
BREAK EVEN………………………………………………………………….. 247
DEAD NOISE…………………………………………………………………… 247
TONY’S TASTY TRAGEDY……………………………………………….. 248
A DOG WITH TWO TALES……………………………………………….. 248
BUTTERFLY TIME……………………………………………………………. 249
SALVATION’S SOLITUDE…………………………………………………. 249
CLAY OF DREAMS…………………………………………………………… 250
THE ANARCHY OF RESOLUTION……………………………………… 250
KNEES TO THE STARS…………………………………………………….. 250
FAR ENOUGH TO FAIL…………………………………………………….. 250
HORSE TROUGH WISDOM…………………………….…………………………251
EDGE OF TRIUMPH………………………………………………………… 251
WHAT’S FOR DESSERT?…………………………………………………. 251
MONKEY SEE, TIGER FALLS…………………………………………… 252
THE LION’S FOCAL RANGE……………………………………………. 252
CHASING REDEMPTION, STIRRING TOMORROW……………. 253
EDGE OF VICTORY………………………………………………………… 253
DOGMA IN THE GALAXY’S SHADOW…………………………….. 253
BELIEVERS OF THE NIGHT…………………………………………….. 254
THE PARADOX OF STRUGGLE……………………………………….. 254
CLAY AND COSMOS………………………………………………………. 255
SALUTARY OSMOSIS……………………………………………………… 255
AMBIGUOUS WONDERS…………………………………………………. 256
OF COURSE……………………………………………………………………. 256
FERVENT SILENCE…………………………………………………………. 257
THE CHAOS OF HARMONY…………………………………………….. 258
AESTHETIC ASHES………………………………………………………… 259
AN INSURGENCE OF EMPATHY……………………………………… 259
FORTUNE’S ACQUIESCENCE………………………………………….. 260
THE BACK AND FORTH OF NEVER AND FOREVER………..…. 260
THE TRUTH OF TWO LIES…………………………………………………261
CONCUR…………………………………………………………………………. 261
AT THE FOOTHILLS………………………………………………………… 262
FOOTHILLS OF MADNESS………………………………………………. 262
NATURE’S WHIM…………………………………………………………….. 263
AUTOCRATIC DISSOLUTION…………………………………………… 263
THE STATE OF BEING…………………………………………………….. 264
ABOUT THE COVER ART…………………………………………………. 266
Foreword
A Tale of Two Brothers
Once upon a time, Paul Martin—polymath, philanthropist, former Navy SEAL Team Reserve Commanding Officer, gifted artist, thriving entrepreneur, and now author—shared this quote by 13th-century poet Rumi on Facebook:
“We must become ignorant of what we have been taught and be instead bewildered.”
A comment soon appeared:
“The philosophy of men is flawed by the tangibles of weakness… I’m assured in confusion, sanctified in the truth of derision, and I quantify my existence, rather than qualify my subsistence.”
The quote came from Paul’s brother Jim, a celebrated songwriter and Nashville’s own Renaissance man—but it was attributed to someone named Sinz.
We were mystified. Who the heck is Sinz?
I wondered if he was some obscure pre-Socratic philosopher I’d missed— despite fancying myself fairly well-versed in ancient Greek thinkers, not just as founder of the global Socrates Café movement, but as someone steeped in that world since childhood, thanks to my strong-willed Greek grandmother—my Yaya.
Sinz felt like someone from her world. His cryptic, poetic phrasing echoed the fragments of long-lost philosophers whose wisdom survives in bits and slivers.
Then came Paul’s response, attributed to someone named Esinz:
“The truth of quantification is buried in the minutia of qualities beyond our imaginations. To seek is to be.”
The philosophical plot thickened.
Eventually, the truth emerged: Sinz was Jim Martin—whose lyrical talents were already well known—and Esinz was Paul, whose sharp wit cuts just as well in a poetic musing as it does in a Wall Street boardroom.
Their playful, philosophical banter intrigued friends and strangers alike, eventually compelling them to share it with the world. What began as brotherly riffs became a body of work full of soul, humor, depth, and timeless insight.
As you read and savor these gems, you’ll witness not only the brilliance of their words, but the beauty of what happens when creativity, curiosity, and sibling bonds collide.
My favorite moments are when their voices dance together. Here are just a few:
On Seeking, Right and Wrong, and Those We Hate
In the ineffable streams of prognathatory justifications of right and wrong, we should also seek the indemnification of the spirit of those we hate. – Esinz
Words are not great enough to express the unjust, jaw-jutting excuses for right and wrong… I search for perseverance and dignity. And empathy. The pockets of Kings are weighted in sand. – Sinz
On Greatness
Greatness comes from being put into a circumstance not of one’s choice, and becoming part of a plan that remedies a situation that is greater than one’s trivial thoughts. – Sinz
Greatness is great, but the trivial thoughts and actions of a sycophant are what make the world go round. – Esinz
Tears
Never underestimate the stupidity of super smart people… Hail to the massive institution of higher learning. – Sinz
I tear at the jagged tears of the soul torn apart by tyrannical tirades tearing down crowded streets of insolent fastidiousness. – Esinz
Good & Bad, Up & Down
I’m not near as good as I think I am, nor as bad as I profess to be. – Sinz But you do know more when up is down and down is up. – Esinz
This is more than a book—it’s an invitation. Perhaps, as you turn the pages, you’ll ask yourself: With whom might I collaborate in a unique artistic endeavor of my own?
Christopher Phillips, PhD
Author of Socrates Café, Soul of Goodness, and other works
Preface
In the Spirit of Creation:
What started as playful exchanges between two brothers, capturing their whims and quirks, has evolved into something far beyond imagination. Initially, they wrote for the sheer joy of engaging—no grand designs, no audience in mind—just the need to share words. Words that sometimes danced awkwardly and other times struck with precision, reflecting the messiness and intricacy of their conversations.
In those early exchanges, they never sought to entertain or inspire anyone. They were simply writing to bridge a gap, using creativity as a thread. But somewhere along the way, this little project began to take on a life of its own. Friends read their musings and asked for more. Strangers stumbled upon their words and saw themselves in them. What was once written for an audience of one now finds resonance with many.
Here’s the truth: art often begins in raw, unguarded moments. When one sets aside the fear of judgment and lets themselves create, unexpected things emerge. This book stands as proof. It wasn’t born from ambition or strategy; it was born from the connection of two friends, two brothers embracing curiosity, questioning the world, and laughing along the way, letting Rumi’s words guide them:
“We must become ignorant of what we have been taught and be instead bewildered”
Years ago, Jim had no idea these small moments with Paul would build into this. And yet, here it is: a book that’s entertaining, thoughtful, and unafraid of being unapologetically authentic.
So join us. Go along on an adventure into An Introspective Odyssey Through Life’s Philosophical and Mysterious Paradoxes.
Elizabeth Avelar
Editorial Architect & Creative Visionary
Two Brothers
Cryptic knowledge, that system clangor irony of futile awareness, without tangible proof, supplants the overridden testimony of millenniums of sages, prophets, and poets, who have inundated the philosophical waters with interpretations of intentions, unconcealed by the nonchalant citizens that pervade this osmotic rock we cling to, could be considered entropic desperate protonema.
Far be it from our simple gestures of hieroglyphic transpositions to equate more than a communication between the brothers Sinz and Esinz that supersedes the established rule of conjecture. To follow the auspices of Rumi, our benefactor in this pursuit, persuades the actions of a discussion that is transparent, oblique, and perfunctory.
The Brothers of Mayhem unite in stealth awareness of a rational fact that we are limited by our knowledge beyond good and evil. Let the mighty sword of the demigod of frivolity pierce our tongues with Solomon’s secrets. Ingest the syrup of introversion’s subsonic death crawl, see to the quick disposal of all evidence that relinquishes the burden of diplomacy, and relish in the act of encountering the enemy in its state of ambiguity. We aim for no objective clarity. We do not care to affect change. Rather, we evoke the weary trigger of optimism to guide our conversations that we may whisper in the ear of justice.
– Sinz
The Intangibles of Weakness
The philosophy of men is flawed by the intangibles of weakness.
To say “to do” is profound in corruption.
I am assured in confusion, sanctified in the truth of derision, and I quantify my existence rather than qualify my subsistence. – Sinz
To Seek Is To Be
The truth of quantification is buried in the minutia of qualities beyond our imaginations.
To seek is to be. – Esinz
The Trellis
Serendipitous monologues, Of the character of mothballs,
Elude transposition.
Moral triumphs are a speck of colored sand.
It is not my accomplished reason,
It is my awkward dance along the trellis that marks my solace.
– Sinz
Knowledge and Foresight
I continue to condense morality into a prism of shadows,
not away from trepidation, but to the quick of matters,
not shallow in any share of respect.
A chasm of insight waits for the shoeless soldier, but I must wander in bewilderment amidst the enemies
of true peace – knowledge and foresight.
– Sinz
The Wearied Travelers
The road to redemption is cast in the doubt of wearied travelers, winding their way through the desolation of
hopes and desires scattered to the wind. – Esinz
To Strive For Substance
The warmth of a cool breeze can provide the dispirited soul with a reason to strive for substance.
– Esinz
Minor Impositions
We watch galaxies collide with indifference,
but react with screams when confronted with minor impositions.
– Esinz
The Smile Of A Mockingbird
To see the smile of a mockingbird
is to hear the rush of a river in search of freedom.
– Esinz
The Changeling
And the social minority of reptilian faith flag down the ingots at the Cross, on the way to Columbia.
The station master yields the oath and frees the surface, open to the grave.
But I see the triangle of sisters and reach no boundary.
I am vague, in disrepute, almost a changeling. – Sinz
True Revelation
The burning of the bush can transfix us all with its calm endurance,
but we as spectators, sensing the anguish and the joy of its engulfment,
can also come to know the extreme lightness and darkness of our hearts. This is true revelation.
– Esinz
The Quest
Over the horizon is a world that we cannot see.
We are drawn to it by our insatiable thirst for new vistas beyond the
worlds we know today, which are here and gone.
And so, the search is never ending and draws us on a quest that proves our aspirations will live forever.
– Esinz
The Salient and the Deceived
Ostrich oligarch! Numinous! The passive nugget cremator,
on satin robes to Zephyr’s heaven.
I tether my sandal’s heel to oblique destinies.
I ride on the narrow backs of sparrows.
I flow to vestibules, and recline in the storm of Rasputin’s sail chasers.
Sinz is not the character to rasp.
I alone make the coiner part of my invention. I release the gay doe to frolicsome minces,
to restless tidings of endearment to the mint of Orandus.
I goad time from the usurper.
I grovel in the cane, sheered of knowing, following deal makers to an anxious rescission, the water of the bench,
the Salient and the Deceived. – Sinz
Fair Tides Fisher
Automations of firmaments! I am the wrangler Osimion.
Have that I have! Fair tides fisher.
I wish not of this swell.
I note the treasured vegemite’s confluence.
I am distorted in duplicity. But let confusion reign!
– Sinz
Prosper
For nothing is not another’s passage,
it is resolved in temperance for the prescribed.
Live as truth and prosper. – Sinz
Cradle Cat’s Eye
The anecdotal regime has but to vest times trodden path to requiem’s stone gate.
Bereaved mothers of stolen child’s breath know of more but speak of less.
To actuate my point of discernment validates
a fish in a bowls obtuse vision to a cradle cat’s eye. – Sinz
The Keeper
I do not fear. I respect.
I do not understand. I know.
I quiet the crisp leaves on the path, never a step,
I am beckoned to my call. The enemies of light stall their end with prejudice.
I am all around their camp. I am their keeper. – Sinz
The Trickster of Concept
If I, as man, mortally corrupt in all nature, wounded in soulless introspect,
consider that a thought or gesture of kindness or timidity might conquer the wrath of cruel intention, invibe the benefit of escape from a moment’s
trivial conviviality with the harsh underbrush of discernment of right or wrong,
then I have not failed to connect the path to the doorway of all peace.
I am guided to the well. I am not thirsty for inane self-delusion.
I am the trickster of concept. I know. I am aware.
I am led to accurate repose.
Follow thy instinct, all who uphold.
That is the dissoluble force of my freedom. I do not know.
I am not the Catcher in The Rye. I am led to the trough of good by my amazed, bewildered,
quite mad disposition of loyalty to the oath of remonstrance.
All that is known, is unknown.
I fear nothing, for I know nothing. – Sinz
Eternity
Today is both the alpha and the omega of time and space– comprehend this and you will know the meaning of eternity. – Esinz
Time’s Perdition
I oscillate. Credulity’s bonds spark free, contextually burdensome obligations,
fomenting the larvae of mites that blind silo climbers fall from.
I comprehend that of Altamont.
The sea of Sophocles. Where is eternity on vacant soul rocks?
Colliding in the hemisphere’s righteous supper, the feast of Vernon?
To the might of revulsion’s door, I traverse, taking only the ear, seeing not,
but hearing.
Yes, I listen toward ambiguity,
the strife of contiguity and conquer the damners of light.
Forever is never, and never is always.
And I care little for the rapscallions of reason; I care for none but the water carrier.
Leave the Sultans to their dim respite.
I glimmer in the hegemony of the auspicious warrior, The gladiator of time’s perdition.
– Sinz
Dissolved Translucence
A cacophony of yellow bird sonatas, Mayhem.I reel in the injustice of tolerant eagles, I soar the foothills of egalitarian aloofness.
It is not the wound that kills the viper, But the sorceress’s blade in hominy, drawn in
Eternity from seemingly under a current savage translucence.
I am the earth, the land of despots, Not of, but as. Take care of angularity, Remove the equations.
Should I make it of that, of my word, so true also.
I am reckless in abandon, free in dissolved translucence.
Questioned, I have none to answer. Examine me with tongs of customary relevance? None prosper but the mill workers saw, Set to the occasion, to slip the truth into the filigrees.
– Sinz
The Land of the Giants
In desperation, I move through the mist, Of moments cast aside by reflections of some
Bittersweet calamity,
That pales now as the true darkness has fallen Across the land of the giants.
– Sinz
Octagonal Paradox
Life, in the context of being the rational sorceress’s pot, Boiling stew on fish heads causeway,
Reams dockets of sounder acroterion mandates. From the bottom of the belly laughers’ bursts, the Ingests of rectitude salivates,
Slate sun acrophilia, Debriefs of culminations
Of nearsighted bully pulpit menageries.
Follow the ignominy to Salon, Near to sunken Davila,
In the fifth latitude, and find the silver trumpet of Cantor buried in the haven’s moss trinket,
And ride seldom sojourned paths to satiated atrophy.
Beauty is perceived lust, Contrived by abstract
Coherence of masked advocates.
Travel the abyss of “since truth, why regress to mirth?” Realize rather than to know,
That is my octagonal paradox.
– Sinz
Damnation
Suns set and suns rise. We live by light and darkness.
Why, then, are we surprised by the balance of good and evil? Suffer evil,
And endure, and if you survive, You will soon be enveloped by the good. Luxuriating in success and affirmation?
Then prepare for damnation. – Esinz
Radiant Solace
The friction analysis principal applies to a sense of Extricate awareness.
The fortune of opportunity relishes the consternation of pretense. I am but a hologram, an instant camera shutter glitch.
Searching for indemnity in a soul-scorched word, a turned sentence of calamity is fate.
All that I am is through an amalgam of redistribution of stranglehold judgments that pierce my flimsy armor.
But to quiet the outrage of nearsighted Fusion of indignant disharmony,
I welcome the profusion of instability, and what seems fake, becomes a mandate,
and what is real rakes the embers of yesterday’s fire aside,
and radiant solace entices my crooked glance, invites my austerity to consider the breath I take as more than exact furtiveness,
but omnivorously absolute magnificence. – Sinz
Sublime Antiquity
Sinz revels in the moss-covered thickness of the orchard glen’s sublime antiquity.
The cackling of sergeants amuses the general’s restless insight for the time of a firefly’s flicker.
– Sinz
A Fire Angel’s Eclipse
Alsyno, the Leopold hat faster that tastes little Crumbs of tangerine tidbits
Whilst worthwhile smock bearers mock his artifice domain Of back town cement and iron castables,
High-risen formally decadent modern edifice escapements, Now relay switch domiciles of derision,
Fog-strewn ledge monster’s archives,
Now tresses lounge chairs on sequin voyagers of serpentine sleds.
I wonder if he got his mark of glory in this Haven of Durst. So be it!
Not I, of Tirolians Hammer, though!
I caught the tail end of the
Cameo curtain call and assailed for new lands. Always of before and ambient of pre-dawn, Awakening to still the whistle kettle only.
Not of quest, or earnest.
Of invested calamity of interests That tat tattat on tin roof time.
And that is the beckoning to a fire angel’s eclipse.
– Sinz
Pedantic Philosophy
Merry mentors of angst, be-wrangled sardines, tiny bastards of impasse oily flesh,
slime-gotten pilfered pungent predators of paucity.
The cat of mice leers my shadow’s way,
And I can open my fate, the red fire bottle awaits to douse My trumpet’s halo of sea bone and flesh.
Absolved? Of what treason? Sardine me to Satan’s Locke.
Mad I may become, sad I once was, horrific in tiny guts glory I am!
A saltine with vinegar trembles at my eerie eye, The sum of time to consummate the two.
Wrangle that pedantic philosophy merry cork twisters and resolve to digest the ingestion.
– Sinz
Discretionary Politics
Discretionary politics. The order of the day is to meander through the conceived “useful variants,” including and discarding as needed.
I am guilty of this effervesce of moral indiscretion.
Being aware of my involution, though, keeps me keen to the wind and the course, not set by hand.
– Sinz
The Nightcrawler
A lake in a forest,
an amusing spectrum of absurd, pronation osculation,
is prevalent dosage for this tangled vine’s eyes of sorrow. Raspy throats chirruping languid in hollow vacancies of pushed down heaven’s truffles.
Masked marauders of centurion’s depth triangle squeeze the dark overture into nocturn
lanterns that flicker buried immortals’ tangents of tribulations. The rocks of shallow creeks hide their wisdom from the dawn, protecting the blood-trudged amphitheater of destiny. Say to me, to a nuance of insight,
that I reel in the effused paradigm,
and quote me in books of uniquid’s chalice, but the finder is not the wisp of the hand of ionic diffusion.
No, the nightcrawler circumvents my grand ovation, the emptiness of my intrigue is absolution.
– Sinz
The Truth
If you believe that you see the Truth,
it is not the Truth; it is rather a mere apparition of the apparent.
The Truth is in what cannot be superficially perceived through vision or desire.
It is hidden in the faraway, banal, and placid shores of deceit and duplicity.
There one can gaze without focus into the reflection of the glistening waves and observe the wonder of
what has never been and never will be. – Esinz
The Orator of Ambrosia
On relative matters that concern not even the porch hounds dreams incoherent
cultivations of tempest’s diatribes on inculcate trespassers of the grass rooted in the surrounds
of manifest Eden, there is a noble pretense of futile accomplishment coveted as success
in society’s delirium of thought process.
I must excuse my absolute neglect in opening the gate to the leopard’s paw of distracted intent.
Do I instruct the turtle to come up for air? Ha! I know the books of children’s rhymes, friends of this chosen palate,
the guise I volute to sneak under the water’s mist.
Give me Tristan’s fist of sand,
the orator of ambrosia. I say but little chimes.
To Isobar I speak of my indolence, my omnimnity.
I am not bewildered, but fascinated by my inept repique of karmic fortune for not having the slightest earthly clue as to the intricacy of “who done it, and why”.
– Sinz
The Lamb and the Lion
Have you dreamed of a world without enmity?
Then look into your own heart and accept
the challenge to overcome bitterness with transcendence.
Only then will it become possible for the lamb to lie down with the lion.
– Esinz
Salutar Avarte’
On the radius sanctions of sincerity, fortuitous Asmyres cuts
through to indemnify the rebel of redemptive ambivalence.
To care. To “real time.”
Asmyre’s opulence is indeed a perspective drawn near,
then exhaled in gasps, whimpering futile ingots of Sartremonial trivia. I command none of my thrown-away gestations of vernacular inertia.
It is the liar that brings the feast to my sordid table.
I see merry weather in constraint of lashing the mask off regents of inoculate petty thieves of virtue.
Were I to be in such high remonstrance that I cultivate and transpire all guilty verdicts to the platitudes of self-acclaimed knowers,
the opportune versifiers,
that which I portend with insoluble vigor myself, would that chip the fatal blow to the jargon
rock of dissolute inference of that “I must know”. I am heir to the throne of all, all that is inspired, all that reaches enmity, all forever,
the question unresolved is my salutaravarte’. – Sinz
The Serpent’s Tongue
The fortunate, swaggering daggers in tenfold cusps of lesser reason than God’s quiet intention,
eschew the Shakespearean cult that engages the twisted columbine.
Resourceful as the serpent’s tongue,
to taste the fleck of dust and see, and hear, without remonstrance, seething in transverse beauty,
the now and then of forever, far from the reach of hand or pen. – Sinz
The Statue
To be of substance, of relative value, concerted as reliable fortune in matters of concern to those whose pretenses follow shallow rivers to murky coves, I relinquish my sword. My valor prevails in dusty heels, only the flapping linen of my shirttail answers the mad herd. I cannot be overtaken.
My stride is resourceful, calculated in millenniums of sonnets never penned. The word of the world is not my concern, but rather, my compass. I am aware of the fatal direction dictated by drunken sailors of sinking vessels, Valhalla is their journey’s destination.
I’ll follow the Tempest and never sway my course, for it is justified to believe. Doubt recoils from me. I am The Statue.
– Sinz
Sardonic Agony
In this prison of time, the executioner waits,
the grim peril looms on the killing field, the grass amber red.
I think as a short pigeon and act as a hawk, fidgeting with numbers in the dark hall,
peeking in the shadows of senseless motions that dim in sight, only to flash through my dilemma of sardonic agony
and free the rafters of the spider’s soul-sucking riptide undercurrent that pulls me down.
Escape the fenced tragedy I have as my deliverance? No, to that end I do not struggle.
I laugh at the occult forbearing etchers and carve my path with a glance.
I know. I watch.
I never stand still. I see that which is not.
– Sinz
Transient Peace
Transient peace, of a quality of mercy, pervades my prevalence of duty or requiem,
committing my subtle being of self-naivety to underscored tumult in exacting a true spirit, a “gamblers luck dogma”,
that collides with my ration that “I alone” make the high road a veneered Stratocaster to heaven’s gate.
The farmer of sticks for kindling is my resolve to be heir to.
The fires are furious with knowledge of vanity’s loquacious dilemma, the truth serum of gargoyles, piercing glances from hindsight,
trembling sanctimonious hallucinations.
Obliquity of finality is rust, and that is my saving grace.
Farewell my canon, take to the northern lights; the skies of requiem never bled so true.
– Sinz
Imminent Being
Look into the eyes of what could have been and see the callous disregard of long-lost cities enveloped by infinite translucent shores glistening in ephemeral emptiness.
Then turn your gaze upon the vast horizons of worlds to come and universes beyond expectation and false hope.
Now, transcend above the opaque beauty of ethereal oneness into the truth of imminent being.
– Esinz
Argyle Escape
I fear I will have to quarter the dime to save my sharecroppers’ Rembrandt exile.
Remind my soles to chirp the gravel,
drag not an empty ounce further till the severer
of heads removes mine and places it on the mast of a juniper ship, bound for ignominy in the land of impoverished pursuits.
Wealth in the reluctance of my fortunes precludes my vanity in chasing the unrelenting stir of tribal hidden formulas.
Of rich treason, I infiltrate the cities of bastion alley doorways, to seek my measure in bales of hack seed.
Remove my feathers of dampened flight.
I’ll float in osmose tidings,
from servile dominion to argyle escape! – Sinz
Veiled Horizons
The wind is slamming my trailer,
that eerie howl echoes across the lake, and there is no one, not a soul, not even a bug, to look to and divide the fear.
I dig myself into the rafters of that low
ceiling of mirthless clementine, reluctant to cave to the beast, and faith is the emptiness of that
shallow intemperance a mere speck of sand shows to the ocean of veiled horizons.
– Sinz
The Smile Of The Sandman
Watching snow melt,
examined as a metaphor in all contextual related circulations of quasi- sub extraction of explanation conjecture,
compares the dominion of the seeker
of Solomon’s refractive incite to a wisp of a straw on a weary stone. The watercress of knowing is to internalize my subjective affirmatives, deriding those instincts to instruct the so-thought-less informed (they know more than shows). Instead, my gulp of Ishmael’s intense struggle becomes fodder for my own integrity,
which strengthens my heel against the thorn.
The want of the dagger to remit my climb to peace never leaves the sheath’s buckle.
I rest in the valley, the cool spring, and tall grass, far from the belly of the misbegotten trudgens of vainglory.
Ask to view my worth amongst the richest of men, see of how little I have of more.
Yet I am a king, carried on the shoulders of the naysayers.
I am The Smile of The Sandman.
– Sinz
The Winged Argonaut
There is a bird on my roof, a winged argonaut with claws,
a stratosphere jumper with an anxious pecking disorder.
The trajectory indicates minimized reluctance to acquire a taste for the meanderings of my synaptic occupant.
Have I concealed my depth? I lack the care for integral astronomy.
I say no! The seismograph clicks. I am a doubter.
Let me particulate my research into the goings-on of humans rather than the unseen resonant creature on my roof.
It is of the fast deed! The immediate!
Quash the unpredictable upheaval that I suspect!
It is now the bird walks. I will supplant with constrained fervor! – Sinz
Mercy’s Bouquet
Sitting in a hotel lobby, waiting for a thought,
the lines across my sunken face are full of karmic strain.
The recluse monster lies within the sea of paradise and waits to claim the ghostly rain that falls.
So long, Mrs. Easterbrook, you taught me well.
As for the stories in your little books, they sent me straight to hell.
Lying does not pay, but choosing sides will win.
But in the end, the victory is small.
So, I sit in this self-made sanctuary, so complete,
a prism staring at a light, or rather, a dim refraction of my brain’s translucence, and I calculate the rhymes.
And I realize that it is no surprise. A power transfixes me.
That is mercy’s bouquet. – Sinz
Sand Dune Lithographs
Satire at best loses its flavor, when ingested with virtuous candy.
It is sort of introspective non-logic in a context of interpolation, in regions of sand dune lithographs.
I knew a guy down south that mowed everybody’s yard.
They arrested him finally. Benevolent banality gets five to seven, so I tend my flower vessels evenly,
with care to not rake the leaves in dew.
It is from my sarcasm that the comedy builds, then languishes in my proclivity
to count the birds flitting in the hazelnut bushes. – Sinz
The Stranglehold Judge
Optimize!
Always being translucent gives no headroom to the anarchic credulousness of hearsay evidence formulated in
counters of meaningless digressions into fabricated complications of nonsense. Amused at my emptiness of foresight is my fortitude!
I am not qualified to rule the kingdom of other men.
The weight of the masses I redeem for the lightness of foot; the Stranglehold Judge I am not.
– Sinz
The Bullfighter
It is not lost on me, that transient disbelief in sold-out bargains, liquid assets that dry up in muddy ponds after the rains of glory cease fighting the sun.
Yes, I have one trick left in my dog and pony show.
The pundits will rail at this, excitement of breaths unerringly mingling with salivary slanders.
Sinz, you dog of warriors!
Cast from metal and stone, crushed in velvet overlaid crimson magnitude of fires’ hellish abandon.
We will you to trestle rock,
bear the load of supersonic trains on steel girths.
We travel on the high drifts of calamity and rush to mark your demise on our calendars of incrimination.
Ha! But I cannot please the lifeless jungle mass’s quest for blood in cold streets. I cannot be beat. I cannot lose. I do not strive to conquer or win; any battle is of inconsequence. I have already won.
Let the confusion reign in the halls of the disparate lingerers of anarchy.
The question is the underbelly of my freedom.
I ask, but I know the answer.
Thank you, my benefactors of freedom, I walk in the arena of the undaunted.
– Sinz
The Flip Side
Everything is a miracle, but when you constantly see them, they become passe. On the flip side (everything has a flip side), you start making miracles into your own miracles, and then life becomes a collaborative adventure with the universe into the unknown. Perhaps the greatest miracle of all is consciousness, which allows us to perceive miracles everywhere and make of them what we will!
– Esinz
The Quiet Eyes of Solitude
Solitude waits in the depths of the shadow of thoughts, that vacuous realm of resolve, always sublime,
yet tactful and inquisitive, precise, though dismal,
an incognito respite for the soul, a traveled beggar of doom’s disrepair. The knowledge seeks its level in anachronistic mercy for not forgotten sectors of strife. All is not lost in the terror of time’s trespass.
To gain the unknown and lose the forgotten steps of the flow of creation, and a gamble is thrown to the wolves of destiny.
I must not take away the frivolity of near miss counterproductive silence in forging through to mayhem’s tusk.
Let the raffle begin! Bargain with the quiet eyes of solitude?
I’ll not. The winner takes all, and all is of what? Take it, straw master! And I recede to my emptiness, the song is sung, the rafters are empty. – Sinz
The March to Destiny
The march to destiny never ends in defeat for the desperate souls that see through the haze a Lighthouse,
sea-washed and dreary stone in desolation’s darkness. It is not the light that spurs the trident to the call,
but the darkness, the fear, the reach for the unknown.
I dabble in known respect because I cannot conjure up the truth.
It plagues my heart’s beating moments and ruptures my tendons in spurts of rampage bewilderment. Never underestimate the sparrow, the hawk’s beak is its teller of doom.
But, to the destiny, was it not the intention.
Drawn as a picture, known as a face
that appears in the mirror and swoops down on the escarpment to linger and relish that moment of spinning light. – Sinz
The Cat By the Door
Tax the weary to feed the poor, but the cat still sleeps by the door, wanting more.
– Sinz
The Sorceresses of Saldia
The sorceresses of Silda cackle in mania,
for the sun burns the flesh of evening’s cold upheaval, the rank in file substitute for austere blankets,
disheveled dogs of tongue-tied maidens of misfortune’s refuge.
Can the mine shaft drop to the inner core of self-treason?
Fool the neighbor’s cat from the tree.
But know the hard ground’s musty scent in downturn will only cushion the fall of the hopeless. Till it is needed, none will prevail.
So, I am destitute in remorse for long trailers on paths in naked woods.
See through the forager’s crestfallen August.
The abolished flee, but the honorable stay to find.
– Sinz
Ephemeral Transition
I am the traveler’s only footsteps.
The alchemist’s mystic hue.
A purveyance seen in the window of ephemeral transition. – Sinz
The Art of Staying Busy
Is it my intention to claw my way through the erratic gel of atmospheric confusion that is, was, or might be?
To bend the moments to my derisional scope of non-equitable conclusions, wrestling the sea monsters of Odysseus’s peril.
Who thought this mayhem?
Not the starlet winging high, the possum’s tail wrapped to the branch. The litany of obtuse contriving conjectures can overwhelm the obvious visitation that I am only granted per chance by an unknown pretense. To be active requires no travel in the auto-bureaucracy of self-serving indulgences of whims and wishes.
Quietly tackle the ghost. That is my requiem of timidity. – Sinz
The Monster Clawed Behemoth
Wrestle the thoughts at the ageless sea, tide-weary among soldier’s warfare struggles,
the beggars swoon in the heat of relentless pleasure in acrimony. Sought after, the Trillian Summer wreaks havoc on blood folk.
But the Unknown feels all forever in the vast.
The Emperor of Shiloh is masked in sewn cloths too.
Ask for the foundation to weakness, and crumble! Sing the platitudes of foregone Saturn’s eclipse.
This twist is sure. Find the source,
and the question broadens in perspective.
The answer is yes to the little bird and no to the monster-clawed behemoth.
– Sinz
The Blood of Reason
Sideways I find myself, relinquished of that duty only, the paramount injustice, taken in times of immortality.
I have no being or has been. A frothy mark to bear, that is.
To share a moment’s sun glow on the tempest.
Now I recall the earnest of my mistake.
The road that twines in heaven’s shadow unfolds to requiem and slanderous dishevel.
Yes, I do believe in the audacious humor set about for my service in the forest’s idle wild border.
Ask a shepherd’s flock to spare the divide, a nd reel in the twinkle-eyed stare.
I do have just reason. – Sinz
I Will Use It
I will use it. Antagonists of monsoon halls of search lights stumbled and yet there was a floor on the vast anvil’s aperture.
Hindsight is small fruit. A touch is but a hazelnut.
But a report that signals “go my friend, and give up your rifle, your sword, and valor, to the only child”,
is the wine, the blood of reason. – Sinz
Vacuous Offerings
Lavished in the wealth of nations, the seeker finds no solace. The rinds of forgotten fruit decay and become the soil of the downtrodden, for the sake of redemption.
I am not the book of time. I tick though.
And each second whisks away the eyes of prosperity’s weak hinge on the gilded door that closes out the truth.
I can see for not, hear for envy, reach the sash to close the light.
Tell me of which is my domain.
The shepherd of seagulls, or the cyclone of vacuous offerings. – Sinz
The Precipice
To be at the precipice, that jumping-off point in a communication of dilemma and hope, that thin wire coiled to a magnet, energy that transposes thought or invention, that instant reason, doubtless debacle,
is the intent of my being.
Peripheral anecdotal quotes, gestures forthright to amuse or construe validation of proposed quandaries are of no value.
Can I, as Not God, persuade the fortunes of Solomon’s children to rest the sword from antipathy,
close the deeper wounds of calamity chewed by senseless oversight, pierced by the armor of the dark haven within, and restore the valley to the fine earth of antiquity?
I must always be aware that I am the fortune of emperors and knaves.
And I can hug the wind, hand grace to straw, ford the river on the shepherd’s raft,
but I search only to not be found. – Sinz
Extemporaneous Quandary
If I could figure time spent versus time saved,
I would travail in an obtuse circumference relative to grass clippings raked in the fall’s bleakness. To gather the news in a system of errors, prevailing may be concluded as fortunate liberty.
I will save this timely periodical of portends,
and revisit my acrimony of gestures when I have more time to compute my extemporaneous quandary.
– Sinz
The Lost Shoehorn
Nathan Bridlehorn, the begetter of synonymic prayers for animated rock crayon drawings, lost footing on a narrow canyon cliff,
and falling, screamed “I’ll find that shoehorn”.
Splat! Seems life is all about something, until it’s done.
And then it’s just about a lost shoehorn.
– Sinz
Spiritum Meum
Modi sunt, per spiritummeum, et mitis sapientia, non est salience regum, et fratresmei.
– Sinz
Vagueinsite Logic
Vacuous conscious reality, the source of denied exportation of my credulous concepts of mortality,
continues to exact a measure of sustained triviality from my always skating rink dilemma, para flight jumpstart repour with that undertow current, that push-pull riptide sasquatch that reasons to, at best, vague insight logic.
So far from the truth is my realized consciousness.
I unimagine the future and see clear.
Sinz is shooting thru a perchance crystal cyclone. Fast is slow. I am not to dawdling. So, to see truly,
I turn my head from the matters of motions, and know that, of received invites to illusion, I can accept only the arbitrary triflings of principles and pendants.
– Sinz
Absolute Faith
“One thing that is absolute is faith. And having said this,
faith does not mean entitlement. It is humility. I can easily give in to self- doubt (lack of faith). Faith is not arrogance. Faith is not power.
Faith is refractive introspection, karma. It is a search to obtain peace within. I never fight. I have no enemies. I am beyond the reach of hate.
There is an aura that surrounds my material being.
I have nothing, yet I have all. I must dream beauty for it to be. Any evil is of my conception. I lie on a flat rock in the middle of a river, under the hot sun, cicadas, and whispering willows, all at my beckoning.
The bad dreams are replaced with benevolence and virtue, but only with time and patience, which is absolute faith.
– Sinz
Fire and Ice
As the stars in the heavens shine brightly into the interstellar void, we stand up against the despair of our lost dreams.
The moon shines luminously in its reflective desolation, and the sun burns blindingly in its atomic fire.
So, we are caught between their fire and ice in a world of beauty and horror. How then should we live?
I say live like the stars and the sun, to shine into the darkness. – Esinz
The Rock in the Shoe
The void is interchangeable with respect to the balance of reasonable contradictions of presumed cognizance.
Purge the will of the dreams and suffer the stifling freeze of destination’s turmoil, an ingot of gold, the rock in the shoe, the polarization of emptiness, of calamity forced by struggle in
retrospective enlightenment. How do the innocents prevail in the cat’s paw toying of the interpreted righteous fellows that sleep only to awake the crows on the devil’s backbone, annihilating the future of the quiet eyes, the ones that might forgive the dreamy nightfall,
to let the rain cheat the sun one more time. I am aware of the beauty, the ox is the burden of the manifestation of men of light domains, frivolous couriers to the troth of fortune.
The truth is known to the agile warrior that seeks no redemption, that motive of circumspect alliance to the thicket of vines on the
shadowy path, a predisposed disposition to ache for the ages, but revive the weary with optimism.
– Sinz
Little Bird
Little bird tapping on my shoulder, give me a clue.
Where does the tree meet the sky?
The very top, the highest branch, the conical essence of majesty in the realm of fortune?
The sky huggers sway, the light and air are pure treasure, and free to the kingdom of solemn oak, birch, redwood, or the like.
The passing of time has abundance in nature, and really, no conjecture. For conversation is moot. Little bird can hop the low branch to the forest floor and, in an instant, visit the pinnacle.
I see none but the making of my destination.
The trappings of youth, the reeling of age-old prophesies into context vertigo is my breathing intangible partitions of insight.
I need nothing of the earth; the earth needs much of me though.
I transgress the obvious, dream to the highest branch, yet it is not my hierarchy to flit about chirping.
I am to listen and be told in seasons and whispers, and remedy the broken branches for the little bird.
– Sinz
Constance
Constance Freeling, the inside switch maiden of the town of Culverts Dam, two hundred miles from the Davenport Reservoir, relays the telegram, signals the train to slow in the harbor station,
and pulls the last lever of her night, to look out the dismal window to the hollow street of her denial.
The strain of mundane life has reckoned with her soul, and the tears of struggles have creased her vacant, stone face.
The race begins to scuttle the ship at birth.
Into the realm of posthumous terror, we are cast, and Constance is a mirror of all that is.
“I am not to be as I am seen,” says the ghost.
Pretending to know is the characteristic of failure, the block of ice the sun won’t melt.
Does poor Constance know?
I should ask for a small talk with her in my dreams tonight. – Sinz
The Surefire Straggler
The quiet eyes search the globe of tarnished weathervanes, Calypso slides into the fall patterns of afterthought, carousing the inert slopes of the May winds valley,
the ever-sought realm of tenseness that forces the blood to follow the veins in a heartless society of somber misunderstanding.
The result of a mix-up might be the outcome of a moment’s joy.
To watch the candles light,
the Surefire Straggler showed the way,
the rough-hewn solid oak banister that guides the stair to the rooms atop, slick as powder, can lead a soulless caravan to attics of forgotten and cast-free thoughts. Those are my entitlements, real as now,
but quiet, sleeping only to awake
in my black turbulent triangle of transcendence. – Sinz
Infinite Consciousness
What is Infinite Consciousness? Perhaps it is merely the doppelganger of our random perceptions of reality and the impossibilities of bizarre and strange worlds beyond our comprehension.
– Esinz
A Comedy of Drama
I see through the thicket of grapevine and thistle that hides the gate to the meadow. But I do not wish to clear that path yet.
I am of use on this side of the fence, for I am strong beyond the reckonings of fortitude.
I know the dawn, the dusk, and the hours between.
I am the weakest of the players that grace the stage in this comedy of drama, this sphere of bewilderment I call my world.
Through weakness and self-doubt, fear and anger, my arrogance and cruelty to those that could have suffered my wrath are diminished to a slight. Let them play. I am not the master of destiny.
I am of the wood, the rock.
I, myself, am the thicket that hides the fence. – Sinz
Delicious Demise
Is it enough to be stranded on this rock of angel dust and fairy shadows, reclined in solar bliss, trapped yet free,
chained to an eerie mechanism of fate?
I was bewildered, until the fall, the fall of ruin, the dust of decadence. Now, I know, and a new philosophy outweighs my corruption of insight.
I am amused. A pleasant surprise to my belonging in the mayhem.
I escape no treasure, no ambiance of texture enthralls me,
I capture water in deserted eyelids. I peruse the pitch of snares that would tear my enigmatic shroud, expose my angst at dawn’s reclamation of the darkness that I so love.
Amused at my insolent genius, that knows of all, to the limits of sarcasm, the laughter of elves in orbit.
Throw the lantern down the well, to see the escape is exotic, a wisp of fresca foretells the awakening to a delicious demise. – Sinz
Faith and Doubt
Universes unfold and collapse in time and space,
but what about the furtive struggles of life in fear and passion?
Do they ever dissipate?
I do not have the answer; however, perhaps some reckoning, and evening solace, can be found in the silence of the dead of winter
and in the storm-tossed seas of faith and doubt. – Esinz
Happenstance
The beggar trolls the wood and glen, And happenstance pretends,
To lift the sky to heaven’s breach, A second chance begins.
For all creations manifest, Defeat of sorrows told,
A kindly gesture serves the king, A ransom for his gold.
– Sinz
The Intrepid
The philosophy of men gifted with the eyes of children, who see the narrow to be vast, recedes in the shadows of ambiguity and resides as a foothold on the travails of the intrepid.
– Esinz
Faith and Doubt
The measure of our joys and sorrows can be found in the confluence of the ocean and the desert.
When they meet, there is the exhilaration of pounding waves crashing onto silent sand!
However, there is also the discontentment of an irreconcilable conflict in their eternal separation.
So be like the sea and the sand – go boldly into embracing both ecstasy and despair!
Be enveloped by the beauty to be found in the contemplation of both faith and doubt!
– Esinz
The Guilt of the Ages
I stand on liberty, moral aptitude, excluding reason, strangled by syntax, exacting presumptions on my shoulders, wishing to flee the cursed guest I take my tribute from. For I do not wish to be the beacon of Hercules, nor the burden of a goat.
Sauce for the banquet of humility is plenty, and I can douse my meager meal with envy too.
There is no crash of mortar as my pedestal collapses. No, it is only to be built again by conflicted hands.
I must! And why not? I’ll knock on the door of respite at my leisure.
I decline to hail the Prince for the guilt of the ages. – Sinz
Enmities Fervor
The shallow grave of destiny denies the wolves of fate their morsel of enmities fervor, but they dig in rapacious revel of this vacuous exon’s blanket of dust, a template of a universe’s empire, this mad with
compulsion, exploding in chaos, perfect in rhythm, jester’s folly kingdom of jackals. I fall to the way of the kings of Saturn’s victrola! Save for
the speck of sand, I am not. The bones of glory are the stars that never shone bright.
– Sinz
Saturn’s Twist
Is it the quickened step of the horse,
the hoofs of time surrendering their hastened blow on earthen wine? Or could it be the dog’s breath of Saturn’s twist, regaling in the frost of stolen winter’s curse?
Fast as it might, the slow descent of the tale of the draconian wordsmith’s plight is an incrimination in salutatory remonstrance that takes the earthen chalice to the envious Gods of Sargon.
The plight of angels fallen from an earmarked for collapse thimble head of asylum is the flower’s petal.
The dragonfly’s contempt is a minor flaw in the falls shadow.
As the honeybee, and I am not immortal, as the new blades of grass will wither. But I am circumvented by a fantasy, the angular line that renounces polarity. There is not a start, nor a beginning.
For there is no end.
The parable foretells the date of spring’s return.
– Sinz
Toucan Rhapsodies
The Philodendron speaks to the ease of the chalice of the monarchy in a sublime retrospect that enhances the raindrops’ certainty,
celebrating a clover treatise.
Under cuttings in vases of informed rationale,
those whose senses rely on quips from quotations resolve institutions rationally – a quiver, a green nutmeg brown twisting crawling vine of despotic regalia, demure, unchallenged by neglect.
A society of reflection disposed of treason to the unyielding foray of butterfly whims and Toucan Rhapsodies.
– Sinz
Redux Posh Sanguinity
Complications are the foundation on which I have built my crumbling house of cards. Extricating the savor of nonchalant criticism from derelict absolutions requires tenfold the trial-and-error assumptions than I can devote. Some metaphoric championing of whittled away jargon tempts me to the side of anarchical defiance.
A hole in the roof to peek at the sun?
Ha!
A speck of time takes on the jacket of solvency in error of corrupt manipulations of perspective.
Dare me to commit to the rifle’s tongue!
The quick maiden hastens to the whiskered cat’s frolic with redux posh sanguinity, and the boiled over kettle is again reduced
to a mere bowl of gruel.
The stage is set. My contempt is an afterthought of resilience to backlash poignancy.
Pay no mind to the giant’s tongue lashing,
for to slay the beast I require but two steps into the devil’s doorway! – Sinz
Preconceived Destinies
In The Unfiltered Light of new revelations comes the darkness of inchoate knowledge.
The philosopher must stand bound to the mast of the ship of inquiry to prevail against the sirens’ call of abject belief in the contemplation of worlds beyond
rational harmonies and preconceived destinies. – Esinz
The Void Of Reciprocating Sunlight
Stare into the void of reciprocating sunlight to hear the chimes of manifesting destinies. Then you will know the meaningless beauty of the absurd banality of perceived existence.
– Esinz
Ab Initio
The queer-eyed rabbit stirs in the metal pot of languor amidst trifles in sagebrush shadows on his hindered path of rapscallion destiny.
Awry is the crooked trail, and dense is the misshapen underbrush of thorn and thistle.
Quick to the lament of the cockroach spins the hourglass in a dust havoc pirouetting storm giants claw foot, an angular twist and trap, and hitherto a spry tooth invites darkness to a creature of light, exposing the subterranean viciousness of ab initio.
– Sinz
The Lamentations of Thieves
Atonement, as justification for some surreal anti-theological dispersion of a self-righteous connection to an otherwise ephemeral concept of provocative restraint,
notwithstanding that bit of coagulation of empathetic nostalgia that leads the heart of conscious men to remedy the plight of discernment of right vs wrong with focused actions that disdain reclamation.
I must always be aware of the credulous assimilation of self-doubt into the pool of vigilant incrimination such as, is always, the stronger motive, that being, justice left to the lamentations of thieves.
– Sinz
The Revolver
Fear not. I have not crossed the path of the wildebeest.
I see the fortune of the Trinity incarnate. Breath I must the dust of a thousand hooves,
to swallow the pride of countless transgressions.
The haze of winter salutes my marrow; the sun is an arrow that pierces my psyche. I revolt against nothing. I am the Revolver.
– Sinz
Unrequited Being
Our solipsistic journey to oblivion is periodically obviated by momentary glimpses of surreal manifestations encountered in the pure perception of meaningless beauty. Behold the tadpole swimming for life in a muddy pothole, and perhaps you may see the opulent glory of unrequited being. – Esinz
Unrequited Resolutions
Fly beyond the bounds of truculent sorrow into the depths of abject despair, and you will find the distillery of the mind’s immortal search for meaning in a meaningless void of pure apathy and vapid waves of
unrequited resolutions. Then, take heart, for now you may laugh into the face of all adversities and adversaries till the end of time and space.
– Esinz
The Words of Paupers
It might be of benefit to unveil the shark-tooth grimace he held under his breathless conjured-up folly that was neither of both worlds taciturn nor ambivalent. He held that which is certain in circumspect, maligned and misguided reluctance to participate in treasure or theatrical
underpinned resolution.
He forgave of none the select dowry held by ransom to the magistrate’s jest, the landlocked skirmishes of salutations sacrificed for ratification of fantastic symbols of erstwhile finger jabbers, those stating opulence to be their magnitude. Rest assured the diner eats no fare that does not consume its share in nature’s dilemma.
To fight the skirmish in tired-out dogma? Of no part takes the dragon, who knows of power in less spacious dreams. Over in the quick! Linger not, or rest dreary in the wood, and marry the earthen struggle again stalwart pilgrim and see the remedy is short-lived by its unvenerable keepsake, the rasp of the key turning the lock, the clang of poison’s remorse that sends the salient message to trembling lips that kiss the feet of kings yet speak the words of paupers.
– Sinz
Unrequited Resolutions
Fly beyond the bounds of truculent sorrow into the depths of abject despair, and you will find the distillery of the mind’s immortal search for meaning in a meaningless void of pure apathy and vapid waves of
unrequited resolutions. Then, take heart, for now you may laugh into the face of all adversities and adversaries till the end of time and space.
– Esinz
Transparent Optimism
So quiet is the night, seems just. Though truly I know of injustice more sincere. I’ll linger a bit, and perhaps take heed of the hanging branches that scold the gloom of this forest nocturne. The shadow willows denial of hollow laughter, echoes of paths to the farthest meadows that gleam in purity’s milk. Of dandelions, the orphans of the despondent, the ridiculed beauties of lost charm. Where do merry gentlemen go?
Where to? On the steed of justice ride the henchmen of naivety’s grave. They plunder against veracity, once again to remain the despot’s night crawlers. Venomous. Rhapsodic. Virtuous. Romantic. Is it the minute or the hour? Fear is transparent optimism. Pain is denial. Justice is neither. – Sinz
Vindication
Unearth the ashes of benign tranquility and smell the sadness and beauty of lost ages of loveless contempt and vindication.
– Esinz
Destabilized Reemergence
The lattice of black holes is the bed of the Pantokrator.
Wept steel forges the breath of Janus as she creeps atop the crib of the pharaonic capitol – mesmerized by the twirling mobile of a bicameral neural net…the inverted pyramid digs further into the terrain.
Inhaling pure vitriol is our only redemption.
Dying isn’t hard.
Living isn’t hard. It is the moments in between that get me.
I call it Destabilized Reemergence. – Sinz
Ephemeral Toxicity
Dying is not hard. Living is not hard. It is the moments in between that get me. I call it Destabilized Reemergence.
I pass through vivid stratospheres of crystallized sediments that fill the void of fixated rehearsals of yet-to-be quandaries, enveloped notations addressed to the recipient of another plane, a particle of dust, the true me of another’s hypothesis, encrypted tones of silent metaphors that beckon my acknowledged participation.
I know all, yet I doubt.
And it is the second of unsureness that defeats my quest for truth.
Why question my answer to a problem that is of the nature of ephemeral toxicity?
I can pass the bargain counter of fears.
I came to die. Who has not? – Sinz
Stertorous Sentimentality
Sliding down the solipsistic slope of stultifying, superficial, sagacious, salacious, and supercilious stretches of semi-sentient serpentine sequences of stertorous sentimentality – what could be more fun or less worthless?
– Sinz
Stagnant Tranquility
Weigh into the dirges of the lamenting songs of wrongs unrighted, and you will hear the nascent journeys of spirits striving for perfection in the vacuous halls of unrequited lust and love.
Admire nor pity them, for they are marionettes in the remorseless and everlasting search for meaning beyond the simple beauty of eternal bliss and stagnant tranquility.
– Esinz
The Shadow of a Smile
Erstwhile relic of summer’s folly, Calamity’s journey collides with eventide.
The sweet melancholy lake, The glimmer of hope’s return, The shadow of a smile,
Hastens the hour of enchantment. – Sinz
Palliative Geometric Constructs
The defragmentation of corporeal non-phased binary inculcations justifying the inertness of superficially palliative geometric constructs of reality creates the perception of consciousness.
– Esinz
Disrepair of Thought
Die devil dogs!
Recur the wrath of Hates!
Slumber in the mirth of rectitude!
Be that we are blind to our soulless plot, To toil in disrepair of thought.
– Sinz
The Bitter Truth
The sweetness of the moment is curtailed by the bitter truth.
For some are saved from wretched storms, while multitudes perish.
Vigilance and armor fall to the side, as fate leads the battle-weary to destiny.
– Sinz
Baked Alaska
FosheKragmeyer resembles the cooked-up version of a pantomime on duck virtues, the transparent sniveling of eggplant regression, and the texture of tomato purée (of course, the rice must be precise!).
All for none to dine, for it is a sacred resurgence to the rasp of dissolution, a coattail resemblance of angst-driven ego that propels his curious endeavors. Solid in stature yet weak in virtue, he’ll claim the ticket to the rally and forfeit his knowledge for a minute in the ovens of hell’s receptacle, be it a cold Sunday or, shall we say, “Baked Alaska.”
“I wish to donate to the cause of the Sangria Fountain, for I find my time valuable to those little strangers”,
yet the dew is not off the blade before it’s a finished fracas.
So now the epitome of rancor invades the room of stilts and effervesces the party’s domain to the crunch time chaos it was meant to be.
Foshe doesn’t need the prayers of the living, nor the dead. Rather, give him the toast of treason. Sell him the watch of ignoble glory.
Set him on the Hercules Fandango to dance with the Laconia Jubilares.
Rest assured, the journey to guillotine is next! – Sinz
Transfiguration – Disparate Realities
Irascible Rasputin, I know thee well! Come see the infarctions born of impotent despots’ intent on preserving
themselves in the face of the mercurial dance of future histories. Then, perhaps, I will know the beauteous glow of infinite archetypes pes annihilate by the transfiguration of disparate realities unfolding without care or consideration for any evil, or righteous, cause or transformational endeavor!
– Sinz
Existential Justification
The rising of the co-fixture of imminent capitulation in the face of the Gods of grace and sorrow is the song of decay and justice in
a world of bifurcated delusions of heaven and hell.
So, sing, Goddess, of the wrath of quiescent tyranny in the jaws of malevolent dedication to the wrath of the impartial stupefaction of all notions of saving grace or existential justification.
– Sinz
Hope
The range of disparity is infinite, but the beauty of hope is transcendent.
– Esinz
The Fallen Arch Angel
It would appear unjust,
these trident hemispheres mangled misleading’s, the crapshoot destiny parlances,
the grim defeatist social framing, the intricate detailed manipulations of contrived guilt, the hash-slinging orator’s tangents that tinge the waters and recreate the fallen archangel’s testimonial wrath.
The spirited offerings of haloed virtue regress in empathetic reluctance to battle nature’s solution to misguided conceptions of world order. This saturated circumference races to a destiny unknown to all its travelers, yet the least lead the most in untruths,
in a rock-paper-scissors rational.
So, I collect my ruminations and spin my compass.
– Sinz
Deep Delusion
There is a world at the end of the world. I have created it, so I know it is there. It is not emptiness or formless or void.
It has no face, and darkness does not float above its abysses.
Hark! It is a truth of this world.
Those abysses are merely shallow layers of deep delusion.
Planes upon which our own reflections descend. – Sinz
Dignity
You can rule the world.
See the beauty
In this soulless struggle, Embrace the wilderness of disrepair.
And reign with dignity. – Sinz
Eternity
Fall from grace and you will taste the heaven of eternity.
– Esinz
The Archer’s Arrow
I am neither short nor tall, Round nor small, Quick nor slow,
Hot nor cold. Shameless cities, Their fortunes sold,
Lavish splendor on ancient soil.
I will not bargain for what I do not know,
Perhaps it is the ebb and flow. The archer’s arrow flees the bow, Where it lands, there you will know.
– Sinz
The Ashes Of Mayhem
I rant about solitude’s unfortunate overachievers, the damned self-righteous, been there, done that heathens,
that rake the planet’s subculture of mud house tyrants of any conjecture that parallels sanctimony.
Tear the traitorous scoundrels that mirror peace in actions of impetuosity’s demons.
Who stands alone among the wolves of avarice?
Maybe a tin can kicking boy could obscure with little notice the skinned knee town crier’s rationality, blessing humanity with cruel stupidity, their own self-plagiarizing free fall of common brutality.
I breathe the air of giants that gobble up the rectifier’s rattle and chain, and spew the earth’s damned to the brimstone fire,
the ashes of mayhem.
– Sinz
Bicycle Logic
They are like real-life people. But they live so… on the edge.
You know how you put a bicycle together for your kid’s Christmas present, but you still have a few nuts and bolts left over,
and they are not extras.
Well, merry Christmas. That is fine.
But to live a life of always leaving a few parts out of the puzzle and being okay with it but wondering why your life is a mess is where I must dissolve my interest in the evolution of humanity.
That is peripheral longevity. Seething, meshing, dopamine-banging ersatz. Keep to the salt man! Take note. I have renounced the epicenter of destiny’s churning emblem “I’m doing the best I can”.
For damn sure the rocker squeaks to the cat’s swinging tail. – Sinz
Bombastic Grunts
The pending sacrament proclaimed upon the earth by the hearty hymns of ages gone by is transfigured for eternity by the bombastic grunts of cavemen into the hopeless dissolution of meaningless rants uttered in the name of righteousness.
– Esinz
To The Wolves
Excel in repairing dissonance.
Prepare for the storm’s incessant crushing howl.
Revel in the abolition of faith.
To the wolves go the hungry, desperate to die in revolt, unshackled now, laconic and swarthy, the decadent and worldly, the sword of nefarious wrath.
– Sinz
Just Portent
I commented on the scripture.
Wrath and bone marrow, stoned up through the glass panorama, the holy feral cat of Altamira’s shadow.
Who is to say? I reply. “In the gut of reason, no man of silicon-weaved polish returns the sermon until the rails of San Benista arch the hovering spectacle of drama, and the bedeviled vixen claws
the chambers, victimless,
with ivory coast ice… the certainty of calamity is just portent.
– Sinz
Sartre’s Ghost
Not alive, nor young, nor both, I shun the light of Sartre’s ghost. Fate is just an odd repose that beckons me to sanguine hopes. The recompense is shallow though, as the pendulum swings back and forth. The seconds pass with no remorse as the fall from grace takes its course.
– Sinz
The Lost Watch
The soles of my feet regress in off-meter puddles of riff sediment, torn from a decaying edifice of brick and mortar,
born from the arms of abhorrent traitors,
scoundrels that traipse the fecund artifices of weary desolation in turmoil’s trusted crevice.
I am the bomb shelter crematorium that winces in sublime agony through the subterfuge of this Socratic Garden outside the ephemeral round table of justifiers. I am not just.
I am loose in trespassed soil on a blasting furnace fired in agony, verified on a damaged cyclone street in charred elliptic revulsion.
I am potent. Volatile in all aspects. I am resurgent.
I am the watch dropped in the woods that ticks for the hour of its last remonstrance of futile animation.
– Sinz
The Night Is Calling
Systematic uproar, ancillary articulation, ripened sarcasms of singular objections, strewn about by the portents of power. Obsessive escalation, an inability to fathom even the slightest degree of empathy.
Tortured by time’s insistence. I find the only solace is to decree my soul to the sand dunes of the gallant seas that recede
in the wake of fortune’s unrehearsed play.
I can make the light appear radiant or soft as a silhouette.
The choice is mine. Shall I indulge the riff-raff ’s relentless pleas?
Or rebel in tyrannical rage.
Say not followers of freedom! Unscathed by monotony, I am the baffled audience.
The swoon of indignation parleys the question.
The pistol’s crack answers with no ambiguity. Blood on the streets.
The night is calling.
– Sinz
Wicked Digestion
I should be a salamander, to be exact, in slime, To frolic along the muddy riverbank,
Salivating sticky ooze, snatching flies with my tongue.
A delightful cockroach dinner around eventide,
Then slither into somnambulant joy in a crack in a drowning log.
But, alas, I am just a garden snake, slithering in the grass,
Swallowed in the nightmare of dragons, peril unleashed in terror every moment.
But there is justice in mercy, And dreams are wicked digestion.
– Sinz
Saturn’s Sun
Three or more could well be four, And rituals even scores,
When taken in by Saturn’s sun, The minstrel’s songs are left unsung.
– Sinz
Sublime Recompense
But as the fall from grace takes its course, so does the opportunity for sublime recompense, actuated in the tortured souls of heroes struggling to reach the realms of hope and justice.
– Esinz
The Tongues of Wisdom
There are those who receive a banquet of redundant butterfly-chasing dogs, smacking bubbles in the air, barking fur-ball logic,
as a gift of the sages.
Others are cursed with paranoid animated surrealism exploding in a panoramic vision that supersedes duplicity in fault.
None to blame, guilt in all. Be it the mesmerization of the wall clock’s respondent tick, the dribble of a leaky faucet into a wine-soaked tub, or the cornucopia salient fondue of the smack-talking ballpark
gerrymanders, the rhapsody ends soon enough with plagiarized gusto.
Renegade pantomime forestalls the angry chained brute, his demeanor rails putrid squalor drool,
as the laugh of ages histories the hillbilly logic of his ancestors.
Even so, the counselor defends his cursed client, though he knows his guilt.
The money trail is only an obfuscation of the recriminations of the sad passerby’s narrow path.
Who marks the time? An iconic gesture?
An amalgam of seething terror guised in derailed trestle.
The door of judgment is always slightly ajar.
Listen to the voices of children speaking in the tongues of wisdom. – Sinz
Sojourn
The tongues of wisdom speak ardently about the search for truth, but do they perceive the stark beauty of a meaningless soliloquy on the vapid and tasteless sojourn of a starving man into the realms of disillusionment and despair?
– Esinz
Syntax Collusion
Incidental particles of generated subterfuge resolve in the substrates of a vehicularish teruggite, amassed in polished angst, albeit a bit morphosized, but rather Columbianesque, in a savory way.
These are the emollients, poltergeists of sorts, a force, the dragoon clawing theatrics of mad urchins, the train stop whistles vortex, the dew on time shackled agreements.
Would I partake of such vulgar rhythms as to be a mime’s coat of arms begging the sanctuary of the south’s abundant premonitory
challengers to exemplify an age-old proxy?
Quixotic amalgamation of derision forestalls imbittered translations of syntax collusion.
– Sinz
A Sparrow’s Dream
Time will come, my friend, that each flower will bloom at dusk. And, trembling from the denizens deep, the mad dogs will cower. Understand though, I will never give the reins to the steadfast horse of fortune’s demise.
The rock-strewn trail of mercy ends in silence, as the doves retreat, and the sword of the just comes down on my flickering light.
From the trickling brook, deny me.
The safflowers have sown their seed to the wind.
The guarded basin relinquishes its turmoil.
The havoc often mesmerizes me. Such children that play in the sun, and cry in the dark, are forgotten.
And the dilemma of uncertainty overtakes the dark passenger on the swift empty train that disappears in the shadow of a sparrow’s dream. – Sinz
Tailgate Logic
Redemption’s underbelly, bloated with the hot air of sold-out chessboard soliloquies and underachiever’s hack tones, is fat with Rorschach remedies, abounding in trinkets of solitaire, house of cards rhythmic notation, berated Anglo-Saxon pub kings,
and slayers of good doers of transgression.
Shall I mock the sun? The river’s edge at dawn reminds the social- dilemma order of hypnotists to conjure the truth from eerie screams.
I say trade these sly maneuvers for the stipend pennies that mesmerize children in fountains of gold in the limitless undercurrent of revolving serums and antidotes given in lieu of the spectators’ enmity.
I ride to the mark of infamy and scorch the revenant tourniquet of lackluster entwinement with the order of the day, or, so to say, the jousting field etiquette, where kingdoms weep in meadows of locust.
The wind is the breath of crimson shadows.
It is a dark path I meander through to an unceremonious collision, with seemingly no recourse but to bide the time of laconic mesmerization for want of a shooting star metaphor.
The gasp for freedom is no man’s plunder.
It is a gift of solitude in variant decrees of saprophytic circumstances. I vent my incessant largess on monkey see – monkey do politics and bring home the bacon with tailgate logic.
– Sinz
Obnoxious Quandary
Norman Clature read the Times’ piece on Allred Boyd’s murder-for-hire scheme. He was running it out of his garage right under the nose of the Police Department, just one block over! His wife shot Red Sanger in the face right outside, by that big ol’ pecan tree. Is everyone deaf? Can’t they hear a shotgun blast from 20 yards away? And he slit the guy’s throat too. But the quandary is obnoxious. Who’s to kill?
– Sinz
Entitlement
The halls beckon my bloody feet to enthrone my justifications on rabid Parthenon soldiers, those merciless dissevers of critic-slandering nebulites, that troll in whispers mist afoul of cadences and comrades reluctant to derail the Capricorn dogmas that the dredge of reason cannot tear from the silt and rock of empirical demise.
I will bear the quest. I will share the doubt.
And I will witness the rise of citadels of enterprise, and the collapse of socio-sanctified entitlement.
– Sinz
A Tempting Apple
Far be it for me to pretend to connect the proverbial dots of ancient anachronistic parlances, surefire analogies that predicate the reader’s enhancement on biker’s rally jargon, set forth by the eyepiece continuum, ergo cosmetically rich but mean in temperament social order. Satiated by the lust of Tom Dooly’s overture, a peculiarly obvious repartee of second-guessing Satan’s dictates, is a tempting apple for a man of prehistoric providence.
– Sinz
The Void of Silence
The void of silence whispers assurances of benign transfigurations in the ever-unfolding desolation of metastasizing entropic manifestations hiding beneath our most sacred hopes and despairs.
Let us wait in wonder for the merciful annihilation of the infinite perspectives of all possibilities for redemption and salvation.
– Sinz
The Sod Gatherer
In society’s citadel, gold bars encrusted with blood, thickened sharp serrated dreadnought forked-tongued arguments resolve little of an astronomical sphere of influential deference to that which is.
Tangles of grapevine tassels swirl in the maze of a forest on honey- lacquered dew, seeping or endlessly heaving of artful decayed flora, abundant in swallowed meadows on a tempest whim, evolve incarnate shadows that restore the unintended deed, that which we pronounce king of the Sod Gatherers bundle.
Joy for refusal to die, the broken-winged bluebird hops about, the tree’s heavy burden is the remembrance of the glooming, the desperation
of the acknowledgement that reels in the tongue of the gate-mouthed philosopher that knows of much but understands of little.
I solve no mystery. I lean to the trunk and hang my head and am crushed by the leaf, the wolf waits hidden, in the thicket, the glory patch. – Sinz
The Salamander
Watching the cotton grow, in a distance of a mile or so, the Salamander contemplates the odd refraction, like he does not know, of the locomotive, racing across the sanctity of the crimson horizon.
He takes hold of the prelude, the specter’s vague austerity, and slithers into the muddy creek, absolved of remonstrance, he knows.
Past the highway’s viscous hue, the storm is never far from view, only sent by radiant vitriol – the witches’ brew. Can I handle the rust of the ages? That heat-soaked venom intersperses, and antiques, the ramble flow of fortuitous, antipathy. I am the Salamander. Release me then.
I am pain’s enemy. Darkness weeps, and winter resides on my protocol.
Disunion demystifies. Paradoxically, I walk with guarded anguish, should the fall of night be my last refrain, of hope’s desperate pulse, of resilience. I am the blood of twilight, the shadow of dusk.
– Sinz
La Cucaracha
The snake slithered through the grass and curled up behind a rock and waited.
La Cucaracha clicked and clamored about, and a flitting little sparrow grabbed La Cucaracha and began flinging her about.
The snake watched. Then struck and ate them both.
Tongue-tied, trivial, absurd, mind-boggling.
That describes the yet-to-be-uncaptured phenomena, that which is unheralded, preconceived, and idiosyncratic double talk. Search the Rembrandt for brush strokes. Count them all.
Feel the energy for its own sake.
Explain the commotion outside the bonds of self-synergy, benevolent jurors of fate.
I neither prescribe nor object.
I am not a mender of fences or an open range dilatant seething anecdotal water over a cliff tribute hologram. I hide in the tall grass.
I back-pedal through the ancient marsh.
I stab the silver coin on the buccaneer’s lapel and challenge the boxer’s glove with the sling of ecumenical dispersion of hindsight reminders.
I see the often-neglected rhyme in sawdust footprints.
The boot of the dead, mad, Russian roulette fighter serves the same purpose as if it were on the foot of the soldier of fortune who climbs to the summit and twists his sword to the enemy below.
Transpire and regress. Inspire and digest. Early morning and sunset.
The rabbit runs, as it is its nature. So be it. – Sinz
Conscious Amplification
The dissolution of contextual verification and blemished remote encounters, a solidification of concepts neither within the realm of justification by logic, nor outside the veiled envelope of conscious amplification of understanding.
– Sinz
Summer’s Breath
I ask my sister, “Do you have a task?”
That one breath of summer’s essence, then, as if it were now, falls on the shoulder of mercy, and weeps in the depths of remorse.
Fragile symbiotic, sage of sorrow.
Do I regret our morning of last repair? When singlets were of sentiment, and the now distant ripples, on rivers in gloom, languished in the nocturn?
In so much I cannot recall, nor enlighten.
The current has pulled and twisted. The depth has no bottom.
All is for the builder. The plunder is in the task.
They of less, redeem the calcified remnants of an otherwise faithless hegemony, that denies the spectrum of hope to the resilient few, those like you who shatter faith’s empire, crush the mechanics of nature’s folly,
the interlude is the entirety of the play. – Sinz
The Isotope’s Revenge
In a systematic nucleic heaving of transparent bundles of ricocheted retro mass, confusion, disordered confluence and stepladder triangular tripartite coerced chaos result in over longitudinal myopia.
The measured creature in a jar of thespian soup emulsifies,
and tendered sorghum jelly mass larvae constrain the flow of collective retention, a market of archangel’s remonstrances rebounds
and circumvents the stalwart climb to ecstasy’s escape, and never adjusts to the polar stride that marks tenuous hours
in resuscitated fury.
On an axis of decline, the molecules resolve their instinctive intrusions into mad gopher holes, appearing as blinds in pockets of admonished deliverance of inspired lemming looters stealing time’s forgiveness, ready for doubt killing absolve forsaking inclusion to reap the bounty of wayside travelers that skirt the cities of quantized ignominy.
- Sinz
Sauce or Tea Leaves
Consequential arithmetic equations are sequential substitutions for abstract human errors, in justification of the symptomatic exclusion of a reasoned evaluation of a complex arrangement
of logical semi-philosophical exponential concepts that exclude rational examination and interpretation.
Does the nonexistence of interpolative rational succeed in the false realization of qualified distinctions of physical boundaries surrounding the minimally transient radicals in an otherwise
motion-predicated universe?
Ought the professor rather to substantiate the quotient as a spherical abstraction or tangential analogy of reference to hypothetical attributes that deny the exponent of quantum physics laws or motives?
Sauce or tea leaves. – Sinz
The Jester’s Dragons
The Jester escapes the dagger on this Sunday’s feast, and, although the King’s respite is a callous affair,
of dogs and children with open jaws, dropped canters and spilt porridge,
the laughter that pervades is superseded by the scowl of trickery and unjust treachery that bellows and heralds the abominations of those
inclined to be saviors,
touting dismay using sovereign sorcery.
The jackal cowers to the lion and the kingdom of noble tyrants systematically confines its stalwarts to take refuge in knowing the fate for those that twist the eye of the hierarchy by disclosing any mirth or triumph. But the Jester is of dignified eminence.
The restorer of reason, as it is his to amuse, not to partake.
He sees from inept foreclosure the speck of bird seed scattered on the sill. The lute, the Fandango, the lilting waft of clicking castanets assuage the entourage’s true inclinations, shallow pretenses, the intrepid
untouchables, the patrons of mirth, the Jester’s Dragons. – Sinz
Everything
Some people have everything, and it means nothing to them.
Some people have nothing, and to them it’s everything. – Sinz
Ol’ Dawg
Ol’ dawg sitting in the sun, Don’t know what he’s done,
But it was fun, son. Reign him in, He just runs,
Let him go, Just lays down,
On the ground, son.
Doesn’t seem too mangy, Most of the time, Swims in the creek, And scratches,
While he sleeps, With one eye open, son. Can’t catch anything,
Can’t be caught, Likely as not though, Can lose a lot,
Putting in too much thought, son.
Rabbit Dawg, Chasing a squirrel, Couldn’t catch his tail, Chomping up the mail, Yesterday’s news, son. Had to put him down,
Got really old, Goddamn that’s hard,
Don’t tell me dogs don’t cry, Hear him every night, Every night, son.
– Sinz
Stone Cold Killer
I’m a Stone Cold Killer, I’m an angry beast, A two-time loser,
On a too-tight leash,
I run through the jungle and I take my time, Taking down the devil,
Shaking up the vines. I’m a Stone Cold Killer, That’s what I am.
I walk through this world, On a one-way street, Nobody knows me, And the people I meet, Say I’ve got it coming,
I’ll take it all,
I don’t mess around, ‘Cause I don’t wanna fall. I’m a Stone Cold Killer, That’s what I am.
I heard some people, Talking about me,
I went down the alley, What did they see?
They heard me coming, And started to run,
Looked back, the wind was howling down.
I’m a Stone Cold Killer, That’s what I am.
– Sinz
Dissolution of the Universe
What is the relationship between mass, acceleration, gravity, love, and hate?
Perhaps it is repulsion, or acceleration (hate), and attraction, or mass (love), through gravity waves
that are constantly rejecting and accepting each other, creating a tension that is both sustainable,
perhaps for billions of years, and then eventually unsustainable,
resulting in entropy and the dissolution of the universe. – Esinz
The Erstwhile Stranger
If only I lived,
In the bonds of trial, The crossroad,
The unhinged gate, Wouldn’t I stumble, Even in evergreen,
The truest among us know, That which is so clear, Seems foggy now,
The mist is the lion’s paw, The veil beneath, The rust of age,
And the saga of the erstwhile stranger. – Sinz
Paradoxical Isolation
The raven has its folly in the mist, the dash of daylight suspends its animation in flight, the reflection is clear to the eye of the fox.
But tranquil as it would appear, the dust of time sways reason.
Paths have crossed, negotiated by selection. Was the fire dragged cold by the shovel,
or by the trembling hand of a slayer of rhymes?
Challenge the insult that is thrown by angst and fear,
the imposter of despair is a shadow to the hidden face in the gloom. Paradoxical isolation shimmers in the recessed canyons of those who chose to see but cannot be seen.
– Sinz
Silver Chalices
Men, held to trust in ancient rhymes on silver chalices, are beheld of contempt, forsaking immersion in sacrament.
Few knew the truth, and fewer sought it. – Sinz
The Snake
I ate the cake, And swam in the wake, But the therapy didn’t take. So now I see the snake, And swim far out into the lake.
– Esinz
The Jester’s Pleasure
Choice is overridden by necessity in chaotic times of desperation. But heed the battle drum that pleads no mercy, for the fight is the Jester’s pleasure! Peace reigns in defiance of the state of despondent exclusion of trepid mortality, bleeding the moral fiber of transgressions
folly. The state of rest is complicated by inertia’s plight, the dogma of diplomacy is a mask worn indifferent to tears in the subliminally fractured subconscious.
The fight is the curse.
Win, lose, draw. I slander my Christening, my passing to the true manifesto, that realm I transitioned, formed in an unparadoxical medium, a helix undertow, the restitution for crimes, for notions of heresy to the dragon’s larceny! Peace overshadows the tranquil lake for the respondent’s qualification. But restless refusal to assist the moment’s bliss terminates the savor, and the raging torrent of inherent retribution spills over the dam of mortal destruction.
– Sinz
The Stoned Fiddle Girl
I have decided to record the stoned fiddle girl’s solo so I can listen to it in my trailer while I contemplate the salience of Martagon’s reverse tonal suite in Ebm “The Mayhem”.
– Sinz
Futurity
Belay my last.
My last lay was my final last.
The last would not outlast my last.
My last past was my final one.
The past would not outlast my last past.
Now my next step is my last.
The last of a series–
A futurity which will not last. – Esinz
Innocuous Foreboding
Substance, reemerging, incalculable recognition, undeniable in the light of darkness, a soothsayer’s hovel in midtown, beneath the trains, the forest of cinder for the nonchalant encounters that resuscitate my countless near misses with fate.
Heal the wounds with quicksilver to my veins.
The last is but my first, the shivering of regress annihilates my enemy, the dusk. For there is no vision in sight, only in the pounding, clanging hustle that satiates my conscious nights, and destroys the days’ innocuous foreboding of desolation in that hour of my dismay.
– Sinz
The Eye Eater
I am the eye eater. – Esinz
The Oath
Is it enough to swear the oath?
The cloak and dagger episodic perplexing of sustained intrusion into matters of life and death that annex the conditional boundaries of acrimony and beguilement, ingratiating the bearer of good tidings only to find a foothold in the rocks that indemnify the millennium’s complexion, sordid and arcane.
I will be the wryly cat that peeks through the embers, scratches through the only tar roof shanty
in the grace hovel city of booming skyscrapers.
For the trial is erroneous.
The true verdict is to the hungry dog, of which the meat is on the bone. The viper of justice will fall only when cast by the relentless storm into the sea of seasons, that which can never assuage the handle of the Servant.
– Sinz
The Saga Of A Stone-Cold Killer
The stone-cold killer lay face down in a pool of blood, down in Mississippi where the cotton grows.
He got along with everybody; everybody just didn’t get along with him.
Yeah, he was pissed off at the world because all his broken dreams had come true.
The chicken-eating, enchilada-loving lonesome cowboy said his last goodbye to his job and left Billy hanging from a tree in Abilene and headed down to Nashville with Jimmybopacocoboppa.
She may not love me forever, but she loves me for now.
Yeah, she understands. – Sinz
Disjunct Introspection
There is a rift, a chasm, that separates the Socrates interpolators from the wranglers of western idiosyncratic thought.
They that insert nobility into singular thoughts digress in circumspect, rallying to a point of narcissistic benevolence based on the realm keeper’s whim, the research of angular adjustment to regurgitated philosophy of disjunct introspection.
In the cabin, the dead man’s hat, that relic of a portentous brew, hangs on the plywood wall, a decorum of anticipated restoration of never being, and yet always the awareness of the shadow over that shallow grave. Say it to the vulture, my friend. Sing it to the crow, that black murderer. Maraud with the owl in the dark forest of evil.
Rembrandt’s remains, stew for thought, a capitulation that ended in furious fire, flashes of eerie templates, skewered tendons, writhing, withering. The door feeds light to a mighty fortress in an otherwise makeshift manic episode of a ‘ner-do-well’s sanctuary.
The water stains on the cracking walls are… poetic. – Sinz
The Translation of Evil
The mediatic ruminations of a sorcerer do not compel us to bend our will or beg for mercy. Rather, they should embolden our transgressions to permutate toward the eventual translation of evil into harmony.
– Esinz
The Storm of Dissolution
Those that recall the surly beast inevitably embrace the almost transient delivery of that speech, the one made at the Catskills,
just before the militia stormed the tunnel, and the eradication of senses became the name of this new twisted game we are forced to endure, that being the operatic resemblance to the fat lady singing in the crumbling balcony. Rhetoric follows emancipation.
How free we were when we were prisoners of our faults and indiscretions. The fallacy is apparent now, and a mistake, or trepidation, can mean the gallows. It is not freedom’s choice in matters of mankind’s constant maneuvering through the justification of uninformed hypotheses of judgment, errors of quality-based motives, the trinkets of a social disorder that spell the clock’s demise.
But rather, it is a whistle in the dream of a child’s lullaby, to awake the demon’s curse, the night so clear, to bring the dawn of fury,
the storm of dissolution. – Sinz
The Sop with Camel
The Sop with Camel, its underbelly sunup in the deserted crimson-hued field, an abandoned relic of a sturgeon’s flight, annihilated by visions in reckless clouds of thunder amidst the almost delicate horizon, flashes nearly chaotic in jest and folly, remorseless, spinning, diving, whirling magnates, pulling steel-wrapped terror-eyed wanderlusts to tragedy’s epiphany. The end of sanity’s foreboding, resolution fire drawn on a palette of angel blue sky, warped destiny, deceptive motives, a sailor’s lofty jargon, bets on silhouette candle flame that poise teetering on insult, rife with poison caulk, tapestry’s silk foyer to hell’s fervor. Such is the ratification of endowed salvation.
– Sinz
Sooner Or Later
Everything takes time. But, sooner or later, time takes everything. – Sinz
Caveman Jargon
Gruuhhfaaserhh ta aaruhhieyahhwahhsahheyahhtooahhgratahh – yaahhhh!
– Esinz (caveman)
The Arrowhead
I found an arrowhead, In the mud,
On the riverbank, And I thought about how,
The heavy rains,
Had caused the river to rise, And then,
When it receded,
The washed-up relic settled.
If I had not found it, It never would have been,
An experience, Just an old arrowhead,
Buried in time’s turmoil, And my fortune, Would be less.
– Sinz
The Speakeasy Gambler
The Gazette sign hangs crooked across the fortified cobblestone requiem, so neatly tucked away in the sawdust-covered attic, awakened by a marlock trespassing in thought.
What would I do for resiliency if I did not take hold of sandcastles that crumble, insolvent, lacking viscosity, breaking, chipping away at the rich turmoil created in isolated havoc?
So minuscule is the portent, so calm, yet bursting. A bridge that gaps the quandary in velvety blue,
I hasten to find the trifle, the coat that hangs on a footprint.
The riches of mayhem are not the wealth of my boundless intrigue. Is it my encroachment in this musty haven that leads me to hear and touch and recapitulate again? A nova of fire restores my tranquility.
The remembered is forgotten, to be exiled to time’s dust, a mere pause in my static whirl of consciousness.
That I am is not the query.
That I was is not of consequence.
The tale of the juniper tree in the shadow of the anthill sums up my pretentious irony of introspection.
I am the charity, the resilient metaphor.
I am the Speakeasy Gambler. – Sinz
The Sword of Caesar
I personally do not mind, or care, If a triangle is round or square. There will be no justice in this land,
That will bar me from my predict non-versa. Nor will the prophets gaze any less intrepid, at the stars in the hemisphere.
I find I have lost my vertigo reproach, when identifying a silver tongue,
for the sweet talk amuses, and diffuses, me.
I am rather nonchalant, respective in all, but terrific ratification is slow. I will chase that dog’s tail,
down the rabbit hole, and lounge
in the shoe lady’s den.
It is not of consequence, this hologram of smoke. For diligence is the timekeeper’s weapon of choice.
The sword of Caesar.
The arbitrator of anathema. – Sinz
.
The Sayers of Cities
To whom do I owe the pleasure?
The scarlet sky that bounces a dreamy surface beam across eons of somnambulant nectar cups of solar dust, exploding to form shadows that mesmerize, like rhymes in sand, transparent as fields in languid corners of never-seen footpaths, meandering halos of fallen dragons. Does the Moss Owl swoop to the trellises along the ruins of Socratic cities? Is this the measure of servitude, in an otherwise cephid tank of surfacing fish?
Read the stars, and scallop the light, to immerse to the gory bottom
of salinity, under the waves.
It is not perplexing, the arrogance of men that know of petals on paradoxical rhymes. The thoughts are ingratiating to the last.
A sill of reluctance to encroaching persecutions, enlightening the Sayers of Cities under the sea. The pleasure is not mine nor theirs.
The debt is to the bargain bestowed for an unknown price. – Sinz
The Paradigm of Purgatory
Estuary, I ask you. “Why does only the corsair fly in even air, a cavalier, an expedient that rails in circumspect, aloof, near the hollow sky”?
I recall the sip of ray that burst through that meadows loft, incarcerated in dew’s drift on a blood horizon.
I could sift through the tangent trails, but I pursue no angularity now.
I am immortal but doomed.
Unstable the horse!
That brilliant sun isn’t given to shallow dirt.
It burns to run, to kick and frolic.
Give a dose of poison to that wayfarer that he might intercept some treacherous mayhem that may befall the crooked nook,
and let it spill its volowed nectar into that flat river, so quiet, the heartbeat of a dozen denizens’ demise.
I favor instead the current’s wrath.
I sink to the narrow valley and vanish to the phantom ridges of equinoxes and paradoxes to relinquish the Scepter, the ax that cuts the dragoon from its moor, half-sunken, fortune’s relic, what is left of a fantasy. What is now the remnant of the Paradigm of Purgatory.
– Sinz
The Sanguinaria
Such shivers still silently seeping into the sanguinaria, slowly sinking further. A seamless séance stretching beyond the sarcophagus of solitude!
– Sinz
Convivial Reticence
Reluctant to adhere to the seemingly void preconceptions of solvency over emancipation, the freedom caliper sustains the import of reconciliation amidst the ravenous vitriol of socio metamorphosis.
It relays so-called autonomic denunciations of character over pinhead fibers, trickling negotiations, and superfluous inflections of theoretical annihilations of conceptual fortitude.
Thus, dear Tremont, guard the terrace with convivial reticence,
for you too could bear the deadly fruit of the apple orchards before the worm turns, and the simple act of vengeance matriculates to overcome even the pasty tar devil’s appetite, before the grander wedding of man and the firestorm of Armageddon casts aside the bride’s veil to reveal the face of Mephistopheles.
– Sinz
The Flight of a Hummingbird
If you can see the kind words of hopeful aspiration in the flight of a hummingbird, then you will know the beauty of your soul.
– Esinz
Simplicity
The greatest possession is the appreciation of simplicity. – Esinz
The Mercury
The Mercury, that vestibule of recrimination, now mauls my brain at night, formulating tinctures of bayou hue and frothing moss sinews. The light from a cigarette flickering in the windshield, the quiet trespass through immersion in time’s capitulation, on a black Louisiana backroad, the shadows of evil surge by, a relentless domicile of quandary for this ingot’s query. It is aghast, swirling trees and posts, a house of cards folding, crushed, simple taps on the door of mayhem, the zero hour of infamy, treacherous, magnanimous, lofty syrup pine synergy, a passage into a soliloquy of cicadas and night birds.
I took this journey as though some ancient gargoyle’s reproach commanded me, aloft in dusk’s escarpment. The haze of time reflects the breath of the noble cause of a loquacious voyage to which the end is the beginning. The smoke-filled Mercury fulfills its pledge.
The actor is notorious from the moment’s angle; the widow cracks open to a breath of canyon zest; the orbit of symmetry is skewed though and now I remind the traitor. Fear not the evening cold.
The morning finds the Mercury, and the matters of yesterday become transient oxymorons, languid engines of entropic empathy.
– Sinz
Hot Legs Paulie
Cooked up a kettle of beans, Peeled an onion,
Fried some collard greens.
Got my .45 sitting on the table, Man, I’m mean,
I’m a lean machine. It’s been two years, And I’m still around, All my neighbors, Are in the ground.
But I found,
I kinda like the sound, Of what’s going down. I’m Hot Legs Paulie, And I know my stuff, Ain’t nothing left,
But I got enough, Lord if it ain’t dead, I’ll kill it.
No particular reason, Just a matter of fact.
Somebody pushed a button, And that was that.
Now I’m free,
To do what I do best. Used to be a grocery, Now that’s circumspect. All there is makeshift, But I’m real good at that.
Like a heart attack. Tasty legs for supper, Fry them in the fat,
Have mercy, keep from crying, Keep from dying,
Ain’t coming back, No, Hot Legs Paulie, Ain’t coming back.
– Sinz
Free Forever
Live on nothing, and you will be free forever! – Esinz
The Serpent And The Saint
What is better to me is rather wistful to many. The sort of things I encounter are nonchalant in favor of right-minded Camelot patriots. My tinge of sordid swagger, remittent in stature, recoils as a revolver fired in a trembling hand. Take the fruit of labor, the day’s pay,
the basket of jelly jars received in holiday spirit, and set the table wine flowing amidst the cheers of recompense. I am not but one and know of nothing. Right or wrong, I bend and flow. I fit no chalice. I wear no evil. Yet, I swear to the ghost of Satan and pray to the God of peace. So, find me now in the dreary eyes of lonely beggars. The thoughts of many are mine. Judge me. I am crooked as they, yet noble in some way for being known as a footpath to the dust hills. Where to then, King?
All the soldiers follow the same enemy. The same course is mine.
The better is not but a choice. I choose, and I call the serpent, or the saint, to the castle.
– Sinz
The King
Enter the King! Reprobate. Ensconced in faltering synergy regale. Content to ratify the law of secondary national, the leader of farce, opulent, staring through liquid jest, near trivial rivers that flow naked in harsh summer waves of languid heat. The son of none, the brother of all. Is it convivial despotic reluctance that maneuvers the feat of
reprehension in corridors of stone? Not the whisper of a broom clears the archaic dust, nor incense alone in vapors waft. The King despairs at the entrance of dark ships into the shallow harbor, fears the octangular noose that awaits the guilty, yet sleeps content in servitude to injustice. Hail not the flag of fortune. Rejoice, my erstwhile gravity. Thread the needle with gold, yet the coat is burlap. A beggar cannot steal the penny of some and buy the dignity of all, to starve a nation with the bread of gluttony.
– Sinz
Endless Oscillation
Life: an endless oscillation between the nickelodeon of shallow conquest and the choking of fat sorrow upon the material world satiated by its own manifested abundant vapidity.
– Sinz
Abject Abrogation
An asylum arising after abhorrent hours spent among the eyeless thieves allowing for undone abject abrogation. An alarming actus… awakening the aura – an assurance of asymmetrically assigned abandonment.
– Sinz
In Exact Measure
In exact measure…
I relate the stark horror, the disingenuous revolutionary misleadings of truculent visionaries, that time’s perdition, coiled in venom’s languishing infidelity, derails.
In exact measure…
I fear the fortunes of a noble cause, that of which I live to conceive as destiny’s fomenting epiphany, the rug pulled out from under jargonistic halo of incrimination for mankind’s faults, that looms in my discontented soul, the cherished ageless child’s play, the beckoned disguise of rhapsodic monotony.
In exact measure…
I lament the insurrection of my envy’s guilty plea and face the gallows frayed rope, the synergy of optimistic minimalism, the mask of opined reflections.
– Sinz
The Forbidden
A slice of nirvana, episodic in remorse for the untold emboldened quiz kid lounger, that one hair troglodyte’s cousin, save my soul, that ruminates in the afterglow of dawn’s residence into the shadowless, unforgiving
halo of night. I’ll be the razor’s whisk to the throat, that second of mercy before the fall of Caesar’s quasar implosion, the epitaph of a tyrant’s vacant gaze, as the dust of vengeance settles on the face of treachery, the earthen mask of hearsay evidence that defines the masses’ grievance. To the truth, lead on merry seeker. I am unamiable. I am rich in poison’s hemlock, endowed with surefire remedies, the least of which underscore a deliberation, a tractional fortitude that breaks the backs of servile food gatherers, for I am lost… The Forbidden. – Sinz
Blood on the Snow
To tackle a circumspect job, a person of valor or worth to the community, say an elder statesman sort with a butchered past, dealing in sacred oils and strip mall demolitions, the last little sandwich off the silver plate at the wake eater, a taciturn, maneuvered, polished and
kingly man, will invariably recurve the manifest ride time to circumvent the inevitable rancor for his gallant stride in destiny’s wake. A mere nod defines his panorama.
But justice is poetic. It travels the little-known roads of tortures hypnotic sideshow. There is comfort in the chalice of red wine spilled for the ages, and the soul house feeds on aspiration and rebukes inspiration. But it is the blood on the snow that marks the path of the soulless beggar’s contemptuous foray into the diametric canyon of hearsay platitudes and angular dispositions, only to find the escarpment too steep to even contemplate escape.
– Sinz
The Logic of Materialism
As for Aristotle, he seems to have been so enamored of the logic of his materialism that he could not look objectively beyond the superficialities of the world around him.
– Esinz
Hope and Courage
Evening sunsets of despair and melancholy should transcend into morning sunrises of hope and courage.
– Esinz
Sparrows Chirping
Sandscript soliloquies. Archaic preambles. Relics of buried riches.
The hieroglyphic hovel of a civilization’s somnambulant sanctuary.
The foreboding injustice of treacherous longevity, strewn across eons of human despair.
I cannot. I will not. I am not. Because I see. Because I know.
I am incensed. I am relentless.
The pirouette of plagues and famine, The fire of heaven’s anger
All doused by a mere thimble of water, The thunder of Hell,
Quieted by the sparrows chirping. – Sinz
Ride the Road, Johnny
Ride the road Johnny, Make the daylight burn, Devil’s canyon,
The last turn.
Ride the road Johnny Live and learn,
Ride the road, my brother, Every mile is earned.
– Sinz
No Longer in the Hold of Inspiration
I sharpen my sword to an anguished edge, and cut the sinew from the fat.
I destroy that which is good.
I believe that is wrong.
I am no longer in the hold of inspiration.
I believe in infamy. – Sinz
Leaves of Little Sense
It makes little sense to throw leaves on a raked yard. – Sinz
Deliver the Quiver
Swim down the river And don’t shiver For you will deliver The quiver
– Esinz
SCMT
Short Cort Mort Tort
– Esinz
Wonder Why?
Don’t cry when you die, Just give a sigh,
And wonder why? – Esinz
Don’t Run Over a Toad
Cruisin’ down the road, Don’t run over a toad, Because that could forebode,
The complete loss of the load. – Esinz
Perplexing Islands of Hope & Despair
Trigger the notion of belief and you will begin the journey to perplexing islands of hope and despair.
Do not land anywhere, just breathe the air, and see how you fare. – Esinz
Wind? Blow? Reality? Perception?
Does the wind blow? Yes.
Does the blow win? Maybe, depending on your point of view.
Thus, the dichotomy of reality and perception. – Esinz
Meaningless Incongruities
Does a Harley sound like a motorcycle? Or does a motorcycle sound like a Harley? Perhaps it is both and perhaps it is neither.
Reality is defined by meaningless incongruities. – Esinz
Maze
Enter the maze of euphoric rhetoric, and discover the bliss of inconsequential banter.
– Sinz
Sword of Justice
My prison cannot escape me.
The denizens of my domain assure me, “That which I suffer, so shall I rejoice.”
The guns of knowledge fire at will. But the sword of justice always prevails.
– Sinz
The Glory
We live in the glory, lest we die in the shadow of fear.
– Sinz
Cold Day in Hell
It’s a cold day in Hell.
It’s raining sweat and hog fat, and the ridiculous melodies of absurdly obnoxious chanting reverberate in the dismal smoldering void of death and decay that I find myself in.
But I rejoice! For I am of shit. I embrace the putrid scum of Satan’s cursed realm.
Bring the shit. I’ll bring the marshmallows and hot dogs.
We will roast them over the coals of human skulls, swallowing my pride with a shit-eating grin.
– Sinz
When She Walks into a Room
When she walks into a room, all the guys, hypnotized by her smile, wish that they were the ones who’d be taking her home.
But they can’t see that she’s wicked and mean.
Underneath she’s a demon with eyes that will pull you into her spell, and if her lips are moving, she’s probably lying.
– Sinz
Get Your Bearings
Sometimes you have to bear off course for a while to get back on course.
– Esinz
The Pedestrian
The Pedestrian takes foot, To scour the curbs and concrete,
Searching for indemnity,
The sullen cerebrum of life’s intangible stronghold, Belays the motor function swish of rubber sole to asphalt.
To tire brings dysfunction.
Glancing through the shop windows, The vacant alleys,
The fever of serenity casts doubt, The strange overcomes the known, The city of graphite,
The town of shame. – Sinz
Expectations Explanations
My expectations, more than often, turn into explanations. – Sinz
Defeat
The measure of a man’s success is his unwillingness to accept defeat. – Sinz
Spirit’s Halves
Half of spirit is inspiration. The other half of spirit is delusion. – Esinz
Peripheral Knowledge
Peripheral knowledge. I watch, And I think I know. I hear, And I extrapolate. But do I interpolate? If I’ve got a rock in my shoe, I take it out. Unum Verum.
– Sinz
Only to Deny
The lamb sheaves the lion’s paw, The otter spots the raven on high, Only to deny,
Not to justify.
– Sinz
X’s and Y’s
x = x, but does y = y? – Esinz
The Heavens Beneath Your Hand
Touch the earth and see the heavens beneath your hand. – Esinz
Do the Math
Reality + non-reality = duality – Esinz
See the Void
We envision the world from our own perspectives.
Instead, see the void and perceive infinite universes beyond love and hate.
Then you will know that you do not know and will surge into the endless search for truth and the misunderstood beauty of illusion. – Esinz
Devil
Marry the Devil, ye widow makers. – Sinz
On Freedom
Freedom is a state of mind. Be free. – Esinz
On Wonder
Wonder is the key to truth. – Esinz
Trim the Fat, Ask for Nothing
Trim the fat, Stoke the fire, Go as bold, In fine attire.
Rest in knowing, Have no doubt, Love thy neighbor,
That’s what it’s about.
Listen up, Mark my word, Pay attention,
Be seen not heard.
Loosen up, Shine your shoes, Read about it,
In the daily news And whisper a prayer, Be grateful,
And share, And walk, And sing, And live,
And look around, See the ground, On which ye stand, Share the air,
The forests and rivers, And be of sincerity,
And in the depth of emotion’s calamity, Listen,
And learn, And in return, Ask for nothing.
– Sinz
Eternal Pestilence
Indefatigable petulance is the key to eternal pestilence.
You may turn it off or on at your will, but you will never be free of it.
So ride off into the high mountains and stare at your navel there until you can retire into the desert of all of your lost hopes and dreams. The key then is to choose to enjoy the ride – for better or worse.
– Esinz
Millenniums of Terror
The luxurious gates of Hell beamed like a beacon to my very soul. The switchblade? Non-abrasive calamine lotion-soaked rubber gloves? Savor the seconds of hope. They will become millenniums of terror. – Sinz
Ramify
Codify? No, ramify.
– Esinz
Twilight
Does the twilight depress you?
Then get a life on the highway to hell.
– Esinz
The Arrow Finds Its Mark
Through good, through bad, the roof will sag, but the house remains intact. The evil of Sinz transcends the reprisal of Esinz.
There is no method to the madness, but the arrow always finds its mark, in the light or in the dark.
– Sinz
Duality
Manichaean – Esinz
Regret & Sorrow
Regret is but a safe haven for sorrow.
– Sinz
A Man’s Life
How do I write the story of a man’s life?
How do I paint a landscape of his essence, his moral upheavals, his grandiose delinquencies that fell like a tablecloth to the floor on the sunny side of the room by the time he was 50 years old.
The pen I seek is not made. The finest Portrait Linen is not smooth enough. Well, maybe. I’ll just contemplate the wrappings of this lovely Salsbury Steak and Mashed Taters tv dinner I’m about to parlay into my vacant stomach, and sing a song of Auld Lang Syne.
– Sinz
Winning Steps
The first step to losing is the second step to winning. – Esinz
Horse Sense
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him think. – Sinz
On Tragedy
Tragedy is the oversimplification of ruined opportunities. – Sinz
The Chalice
The Chalice, cavalier in redundant verbatim, soothed edged, wing glow, articulating poetic injustice, an artifice of strong-armed insurrections, the introspective prism.
– Sinz
Nothing and Everything
I would rather have nothing, and everything, than everything, and nothing.
– Sinz
Beyond Benevolent Insolence
Being beyond benevolent insolence is the greatest composition of all infinite dualities.
– Esinz
TimeKeeper of Mercy
All but lost, the love languishing in the hue, naive in bliss, ne’er returns. Now a shadow, heart entwined, the earthen vessel bequeaths no time. Love is not dapper, nor kind, nor forever. It is daunting, challenging, corruptible. It is heavy as gold and light as a feather.
It is the timekeeper of mercy. – Sinz
Only Through Questioning
Life is a stranglehold on my soul.
There is just not enough information to make a decision concerning the vague shadow puppet mentality of it. It seems to be a thicket of doom.
I build, knowing it will be diffused by time’s crushing indifference to humanity.
But should I not contemplate my fate? Why, of course, I should. Just to stir up the beehive. Just to question the heavens. Just to be a thorn in the side of that ubiquitous joker that runs this asylum.
Push me, I fall. Cut me, I bleed. Only through questioning does the answer elude. I am overwhelmed with the truculent turbine of alleys that swirl in this somewhat lonely melody called life.
– Sinz
Windows or Shadows?
Windows on the world or Shadows on the universe – choose both or choose neither, but don’t try to choose one.
– Esinz
Quality In, Erasure Off
The quality goes in before the erasure comes off. – Sinz
On Irresponsibility
We are all irresponsible for our own actions. – Sinz
Come back, Sophie
Sad eyes with a soft smile,
Can you stay awhile? And weather the storm with me?
Quiet sister with the flowing hair, Have you been there, Or anywhere?
Come back Sophie, You’re so fair, Sad eyes with a soft smile, Quiet sister with the flowing hair.
– Sinz
Blood In the River
The mind-boggling erraticism of humanity, and the contrite osmosis of free fall evolution, narrows the road, leaving only a few stragglers with enough depth of compassion to walk with the grace of true dignity. The science of perdition is exact. It is easy to speak of the servitude of one’s soul. The price one must pay to find peace is cheapened by the rationalization that the responsibility for the seemingly endless struggle to right the wrongs of others is the righteous man’s concern, when in
actuality, we are all guilty of the same indiscretions and immoral motives, perhaps only in our thoughts, but nevertheless, the blood is in the river. – Sinz
Pass the Cocoa Krispies
Circumstances dictate a man’s life. We all gonna be alright.
Pass the Cocoa Krispies, please. – Sinz
City of Drowning Souls
In the City of Drowning Souls, the light of departure resuscitates the ambient fervor of idiomatic resilience to inept facilities, and grandiose designs. The dragon slayer is salvation’s alter ego. A transfiguration
of desperate, enigmatic solutions to dogmatic problems. The curse of articism is the twain of reciprocation. Take not what is given. Give instead, that which has been ransomed by the lifeless fortitude of less
than average hypothesizers of fate. Do not be pulled under the waves by the lifeless incarnates in the City of Drowning Souls.
– Sinz
Unbounded Free Will
Quiver thee not in the dead winter of lost endeavors and lonely enchantments. Embrace, instead, the grace of eternal damnation in the Hades of relentlessly metamorphosing embodiments of unbounded free will; then thou shall be the lord of all salvation
(at least in your own mind). – Esinz
Whisper of Hope
In the dalliance, The waft of summer’s slumber, Sparks the epigram, Of nostalgia’s silence. Till, it is but a whisper of despair.
– Sinz
A Penny Less
A penny less, Is a dollar more. A shoe fits, And a hat hangs on a door. But a heart beats, In a rhythm, Of a life unknown,
And I question the validity of valor.
I shall be penniless, shoeless, hatless, and fearless, For I have overcome the asperity of God.
– Sinz
Enjoy the Eve
Enjoy the Eve, for we begin our journey into the future on the morrow! – Esinz
Endless Possibilities of New Adventures
As the New Year begins, we tend to turn our expectations in the direction of a better life.
Much more importantly, however, we should be both excited and concerned about the endless possibilities of new adventures, some of which may lead to terrible hardships and sorrow.
– Esinz
Underestimated
I’ve never underestimated the value of being underestimated. – Sinz
Enemy of Myself
I am the enemy of myself, and, therefore, the friend of everyone else. – Esinz
Man and Dog
I can see a man about a dog,
but I can’t dog a man about what he sees. – Sinz
On Glory and Pain
The glory of glory is the pain of pain. – Esinz
Shelter in the Storm
Stay neither ahead, nor behind, The snake charms the soul, But the truth belies his intent. Seek shelter in the storm.
Not to hide, But to listen. – Sinz
The Sabre’s Edge
Should it be,
That a man is but sinew and bone, The blood of the ancients, From a source unknown.
Where it be told, That any soul,
Is of better or worse, Of rich or poor?
Know this, my friends, The Sabre’s edge, Finds us all,
And those who believe themselves to be,
Of greater value than the most common of men, Will come to reckon in the end.
– Sinz
The Fishing Pole
I keep my fishing pole in my truck, In case by some unfortunate luck, I lose my way,
In this world gone mad. “So you fish,” they say? To while away the time?
Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, In fact,
I’ve never dropped a line, In a river or sea,
No, that ain’t for me. So why the pole?
That’s an oft-repeated question, Oh shucks,
I like to think,
It can’t rain every day, Gotta go out to play,
Sometimes I just feel that way, And what would the world say, If I up and blew away?
Why, they’d say,
“All we found was his fishing pole and his truck.” – Sinz
Tribulations of a Miscreant
Can the tribulations of a miscreant offer sustenance to the soul?
Yes, as long as sadness and condolences for all transgressions are offered and justice that is expedient and impartial is pursued.
– Esinz
We Will Be Okay
I love you.
We are old now.
We have survived all these years to come to the awakening with what I hope is an understanding.
We may never see each other again.
God bless you.
Those with faith see further into the heavens, and know they are but a speck of sand.
But upon that,
cities have been built. Lives have been changed.
We will be okay. – Sinz
Or I Can Wait…
I can see with the eyes of a stranger. I can speak in the voice of a medium.
I can hear with the ears of the desolate.
I can walk in the sands of reason. I can crawl to the walls of insanity.
I can forbear the translucent hypnosis of fate.
I can know more of love, And less of hate.
Or I can wait… – Sinz
In A Line of Vagabonds
Take down the pictures, They’ve been there too long, Pack up that suitcase,
Of worn-out old songs, And when you find me, I’ll be the last,
In a line of vagabonds, On the wayward side,
Of all the good times gone wrong.
You travel my way, You’ll be my only one, We’ll talk about some day, But it won’t ever come, And when you find me,
I’ll be the last,
In a line of vagabonds, On the wayward side,
Of all the good times gone wrong. – Sinz
Be the Fight
Talk is cheap, When bread is high, The whispers of some, Are the words of lies,
Be not the struggle,Be the fight. – Sinz
The Dust That Stirs My Feet
I am alone, Impaled by night,
A spoon of sadness, A discarded light,
Wistfully, I dream away, The untold stories,
I cannot say. Tepid water,
Or sparkling creek, What is it that I seek?
Perhaps the dust that stirs my feet, Is only there,
To make me think. – Sinz
Bad Time, Good Time
“Even when you are having a bad time, you should also be having a good time.”
– Esinz
Sofia’s Lament
Sofia is lamenting, In the limelight,
The season took its vibrance, Any fear is healing,
And resolve is tangential. – Sinz
Hell Is Waiting
“Get some shuteye, boy. We ride at dawn. Hell is waiting. We all gotta die sooner or later.”
“Jeez dad, you’re just taking me to school.” – Sinz
On Exerting Effort
To exert effort requires a certain amount of vigor and determination. Good, bad, the energy must be put forth. The good are often the bad though, and vice versa. Treat all creatures fair. But above all, try not to piss off Mafia guys or the Mexican Cartel.
– Sinz
Attack!
The easiest way to win an argument is to be obsequious, and then when your adversary has a bloated sense of superiority — attack!
– Esinz
Be Not Your Only Salvation
Rembrandt said it best when he painted it. King Arthur spoke words of wisdom with his sword. Be not your only salvation. Circumstance makes ordinary men extraordinary.
– Sinz
Bad Dreams, Bad Dreams
She lived alone, And died that way, They buried her, In a pauper’s grave, No one knew,
What she left behind, But they’d find out, With the test of time. There seemed to be, Something amiss,
All thought she died, Penniless,
They put her in, A shallow grave,
And so the story goes.
But soon the tale, Begins to go,
From bad to worse, The ebb and flow, Of good and evil, Don’t you know, Bad dreams,
Bad dreams.
There was a man, He lived down south,
He never opened up his mouth, About the tragedy,
That would take him out, But the suffering,
Was real.
And then one day, He passed away, They all assumed, He could not pay,
So they buried him, In a pauper’s grave, And so the story goes.
But soon the tale, Begins to go,
From bad to worse, The ebb and flow, Of good and evil, Don’t you know, Bad dreams,
Bad dreams. – Sinz
The Beauty of Imperfection
The sound of a falling leaf, The pursuit of indefinite certitude,
The cry of a wounded wolf,
The quandary of how to recover life’s lost opportunities, The beauty of imperfection.
– Esinz
Sideways Moon
The sideways moon,
The sliver of mundane madness, The reconnoitering cyclops, The eyeball in the tea.
– Sinz
War Is Hell
During the occupation of Atlanta, Sherman wrote to city officials that “War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war into our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices today than any of you to secure peace.”
Years later, he shortened this sentiment during an address at the Michigan Military Academy: “War is hell.”
– A Friend of Jesus and Sinz
Upside / Downside
Don’t just look at the upside, but focus on the downside as well. – Esinz
Natives of a Foreign Land
In the beginning, we are slaves to our endeavors to believe in the future.
In the end, we are natives of a foreign land searching for eternity. – Esinz
Goodness of the Soul
The goodness of the soul is in the harmony of our endeavors to love one another.
– Esinz
Saving Grace
The ultimate saving grace is and this too shall pass. – Esinz
Assume / Expect
Assume the worst, but expect the best. – Esinz
Let It Roll
Roll down the hill and stand up when you can. – Esinz
Peace of Mind
Being is a challenge. Doing is an undertaking.
Success is a thousand failures. Peace of mind is knowing.
– Sinz
Not Worth a Tear
Sinz is dead, so it’s been said, a provocateur of ancients read.
It is not worth a tear to shed.
– Sinz
Bring It!
“I’m not falling for it, neither will I justify it, nor will I relinquish my grasp on its mangy, slimy neck. Granted, I know very little of its origin. Only what I’ve been told. But I don’t have to know. Good, bad, I’ve got no choice. Bring it Mambo! Bring it!
– Sinz
Antiquated Anthem
Al asked me to alliterate an antiquated anthem of algorithmic anachronisms and actuate my anastatic aphorisms.
– Sinz
Digging in the Dirt
Digging in the dirt, piling it up on the side of life’s remains.
The sophisticated sledgehammer aristocrats, modular home dwelling tweakers, and somnambulant brutes continue to be the Rembrandts of failed articulation. The words of these desolate poets, arcane underwriters of nickel and dime novels, are excavated rhetorical essays that plod their way through explanations, citing myths and legends as
declarative proof of their sincerity. I seek the earshot rumblings of the post-haste nonchalant soul engravers.
They have little to say, but much to offer.
– Sinz
Side Step Reasoner
Of benign regalia, I ride the stallion of empires.
I am the intransigent mesomorph. Asymptomatic of anachronistic antagonism, interrogated by the quick glance of the servitude of salvation seekers, I know to predicate my thought perceptions on the actions of deliberation.
I am the side-step reasoner.
– Sinz
Heart Work
I’ll put my heart into my work, rather than the work into my heart. – Sinz
Stare or Aware?
Do you just stare, or are you aware? – Esinz
Life and Death
Life is wonderful, death is glorious. – Esinz
Launch All Weapons
When in doubt, launch all weapons. – Esinz
I Can’t Fall Out of Love With You
I drank from the cup of paradise, had my chance at a slice of life.
Took the A Train to the end of the line, showed up in the nick of time. Just soon as I got there, got the old Devil-may-cares, turned around, and it vanished way too soon. Seems like I’m always leaving.
Could you be the reason I’m only there in my ragged self?
My mind is somewhere else. Any season, any time of day or night, I can’t fall out of love with you.
– Sinz
Tweedledee & Tweedledum
Tweedledee said to Tweedledum, “Let’s go have some fun.” Tweedledum said to Tweedledee, “Let’s go sit under the apple tree, And we can fiddledeedee, fiddle faddledeedellydum.”
– Sinz
DO-able?
Is it doable? IS IT DO-ABLE?
That’s the question one has to ask oneself.
Leave the thinking to Aristotle.
– Sinz
No Clarity in Truth
Is there a clarity in truth? No.
It always resides as just a partial shadow in our innermost doubts and convictions about what is and what isn’t possible.
– Esinz
In My House?
Aquafied rain mildew manipulators, mainstay algorithm interpolators, sordid sideswiped trip-no phantoms, percutaneous perineal cognitive deliberates. Must they all live in my house?
– Sinz
Anomalous Certitude
The virtue of death is the infinite consolation of anomalous certitude.
– Esinz
Ascertain or Pain
Be careful about what you ascertain, because there could be pain.
– Esinz
Whistlestop Troubadour
Stockholm relapse, Systemic atrophy, Archival footage, Rembrandt remix, Extensive elaboration, The age of suffering,
The multitudes of millenniums, The seaside serenader,
The Whistlestop Troubadour. – Sinz
Catharsis’s Daughter
Illumination is the daughter of Catharsis. – Esinz
Dreams That Can Never Come True
Should a post-obsessive raconteur still have a soulless obsession with dreams that can never come true? Of course!
“Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…”
is both the answer and the ultimate question. – Esinz
Country Boy
Flashing lights and crazy nights,
Sounds of the engines from the overhead flights, And people in a hurry to find their next worry.
I danced till dawn in that snake-oil pond,
Till my soul couldn’t breathe,
And the echoes of the canyons started calling me.
Now I’m a long way out of crazy town, Nearest neighbor’s ‘bout 2 miles down.
Thank God the city life made a country boy out of me. – Sinz
Would That Bring You Back?
If I cried a song for you, Sighed a bar or two,
Of a melody so sad and blue, Would that bring you back?
And if I whistled at the silver moon, Laughed and told a joke or two, Dusted off the old soft shoe, Would that bring you back?
– Sinz
Troubles
Trouble me not, or I shall trouble thee. – Esinz
Redemptive Collusion
Redemptive collusion, The smoke of defiance, The blanket of intolerance,
The measure of blood and sand, Is man, Is child.
It is that which invites turmoil, Rejects peace for prosperity,
And hides in the crevices of fear’s absolution.
The brotherhood of the lamb, Never stays far from the lions’ den, Good is evil’s shadow,
Treachery is in the moonlight, Take to the hills,
Hide in the valleys, Escape is reclamation, The cost of victory,
Is the expense of defeat, Rivers of regret,
An ocean of tears,
A mountain of delusion, A forest, vacant of trees. – Sinz
Prison Of My Soul
It is not enough to say the words. I must live the words. Do I write simply to appease my ego? Nothing is trivial. Do I speak words of eloquent design, pulled from thin air?
Or do I suffer from within the prison of my soul? – Sinz
Tough Out There
Can’t decide what to do today. The big bad government is trying to keep me down. All I can do is have another coffee, play around on my phone. Maybe I’ll drive over to Walmart and buy some stuff I don’t need. Swing by the fast food place. Lollygag around with my music friends. Hell, maybe write a song. Just bought a new truck. Live 30 ft from the lake. Got money in the bank. Oh, I’ll probably obey the stupid laws, not look for trouble, be grateful. Damn, man, it’s tough out there.
– Sinz
Jagged Sword
The nomenclature of destiny is a jagged sword. – Esinz
Mercy
Always choose mercy over pity. – Esinz
Ain’t My Business
I keep my garage clean and my porch swept.
I mow my yard to the fence. Outside that, ain’t my business. – Sinz
Bizarre
Life is bizarre, but somebody’s gotta do it. – Esinz
Crying Shame
Hackberry tree, why do you sway in the breeze of an autumn day?
You know she’s gone away, you heard what she had to say.
I’ll miss her, it’s a crying shame. – Sinz
The Measure of an Artist’s Life
What is the measure of an artist’s life? Is it their passion?
Those that think, that ponder mortality,
create a question that answers the Devil’s mayhem with sultry melodies and strokes of pen and brush,
the actor of passions’ play, the death of humanism, the blood of reason.
- Sinz
Abandoned Sailor
My mind wants to process – constantly.
There is no rest, no reprieve, after the sunset’s final glow.
A mere temperance of quiet solemnity betrays my wearied orb,
to scream in terror, that I may have missed a chance to involve my every being in matters of interest, only to the likeness of an abandoned sailor adrift on the sea. Why does the sparrow sing? The cricket chirp?
The thicket hides the wolf. The marrow of my bones is not their desire.
They’ll destroy my sanity; time is destiny’s calling card.
Tick tock, tick tock. Come out, come out, whoever you are. – Sinz
Mistakes As Opportunities
Mistakes are just opportunities.
So, the way I see it, I’ve got lots of opportunities. – Sinz
On Death
While death is terrible, it’s inevitable, so what are you going to do? – Esinz
Live Ye in the Future
Live not ye in the moment? Eschew the past.
Reconcile with thine enemies, And live ye in the future. – Sinz
Obfuscation Technique
The obfuscation technique is unparalleled as a predicament resolver.
Try it on your friends and neighbors!
Seems to work great in solving world crises too. – Sinz
Nomenclature of Betrayal
Scarred by the dilemmas of time’s shadow, the haste of doom strangles the convictions of many a man. The nomenclature of betrayal, spoken in the language of aristocratic ambivalence, predicates the outcome.
The graves are dug, and the mothers weep as their sons die for their fathers’ dreams.
– Sinz
Rhetoric of Scoundrels
The silent majority speaks volumes, but the rhetoric of scoundrels, which is overheard by the entropic pontification of calamity, mesmerizes the verbatim of mundane analysts and retrograde shoeshine aristocrats.
– Sinz
On Hate and Love
The beauty of hate is the justification of love. – Esinz
Leisure City
A slice of orange on a hot summer day, lounge chairs on the patio, the magnolia and honeysuckle, the lake, the sand, the Blue Heron, the ten- pound catfish, the Bonneville,
the sign WELCOME TO LEISURE CITY.
– Sinz
The Gate
Turn to the gate, but hesitate. If you do walk through, then set aside all of your pride until you step to the other side.
– Esinz
Tank of Water and of Guns
Camille Pissarro is the man in the creation of beauty. I am the tank of water and of guns.
– Esinz
Finis
The end.
– Esinz
The Lesser of Two Evils
The lesser of two evils is the greater of one good. Perhaps I should reconsider my options.
– Sinz
On Good and Evil, Love and Hate, Morality
GOOD AND EVIL.
Where one leaves off, The other takes on. LOVE AND HATE
The procrastinator of one, Is the instigator of the other.
MORALITY
The explainer of morality,
Is The Servant’s Tongue wagger.
– Sinz
Wheels turning round and round – if you can’t hear the sound, then you will drown.
– Esinz
Rings Around the Moon
Rings around the moon are like the false summers in June.
– Esinz
The Question
To pursue quandary or to nullify doubt – that is the question. – Esinz
Therapeutic Reasonings
Therapeutic reasonings in a wolf are like damsels in distress in a lamb. – Esinz
Stars in Your Eyes
Run into the ground and you will see the stars in your eyes. – Esinz
Progenitor of Words
I train my thoughts, For future quips, And anecdotal blurbs,
I am a progenitor of words, I save up my best banter, For another day.
And I work my bones, To a steely hone,
To cover my tracks, To keep the wolves at bay.
– Sinz
Ghost Town Mannequins
Divine Intervention, That often delusional betrayer of intentions, Makes a market for fool’s gold, And the buyers line the streets, Like Ghost Town Mannequins.
– Sinz
The Archer’s Whim
It isn’t the dying that kills a man, It’s the living.
It is the struggle of indentured servitude, To a master unknown.
The hour of discernment, Is not mine to resolve.
As I might conjure up my moments, Rail in the hat tricks of justification.
The arrow of destiny, Is shot at The Archer’s Whim.
– Sinz
Nine Times Out of Ten
Nine times out of ten, A juxtaposition of time’s relevance, The grey area between now and eternity,
The sovereign slope of mortality, The earthen comedy of errors, The definition of defiance,
Nine times out of ten.
– Sinz
Horseshoe Cowboy
It’s alright, To be a bit disheveled, Maybe on the edge of some cement sidewalk, Gonna jump off into the green lawn,
Aside from the cruel luxury, Of second-guessing, I’ll bid for luck’s fecundity,
And I’ll be the Horseshoe Cowboy. – Sinz
Two Pistols
Two pistols. One for Heaven. One for Hell. One fires the shot, That breaks the will. The other fires, The shot to kill.
The twisted hand of fate. That surefire trigger-happy moment.
The last gasp. Then, face down in the street of some Godforsaken town.
Two pistols.
One for Heaven. One for Hell.
– Sinz
End of the End
The beginning of the beginning is the end of the end. – Esinz
Who and How
Maybe how is who and who is how? – Esinz
Creation’s Mask
In the crowd, The soul of time’s departure, Nameless in certainty, A catapult to creation’s mask.
– Sinz
Everything / Nothing
I know that I am nothing, but that makes me everything. And since I know that I am everything, that makes me nothing.
– Esinz
Chump Change Introspections
The smarter I think I am, The stupider I appear to be, And the more itinerant my thoughts become, Gasping for the next Gorilla wordplay, Incoherent of any subtle enhancement, My resolve is to intimidate my audience and my sensory neurons with high dollar substitutes for chump change introspections.
– Sinz
Meadow of Delusion
The forces of nature reveal only a glimpse of that which is, thereby astonishing the masses with glimpses of insight, which they perceive to be knowledge. Yet, they are only the meandering of a brook in a meadow of delusion.
– Sinz
Fabricated Persona
There are generalized conceptions of people, and then there are, for lack of a better word, factual conceptions. Both generate each other.
The mystic, hype, etc., formulates from the facts. But, the kink in the works is that people change. And guitar players, singers, and cabaret dancers are known to adapt to get an applause.
– Sinz
Precipice of Doubt
The trail of bargain basement logic ends at the precipice of doubt.
The weary find rest in havens of mirth. But the intrepid see the truth is masked by misunderstanding. The deeper the well, the colder the water.
– Sinz
The Skinny
A man has a tractor, so he’s a farmer. A woman has a gun, so she’s a hunter.
That’s the skinny. Not the truth.
– Sinz
Sandman’s Delusion
Thinking is the rich man’s incarceration, the poor man’s conflagration.
The ephemeral conclusion? It is all the Sandman’s delusion.
– Sinz
Faith
The thing about discussing faith is that God hears everything. So, I profess faith? God sends more challenges with a note, ‘How much faith, boy?’
– Sinz
Dancing In My Head
She’s twirling round, and I’m getting stoned,
They moved the exit sign, and I walked in the wrong door.
Must be a sorry sight, but she never really cared,
And I’m just the other side of giving in, but I’ll never break Long as she keeps dancing in my head.
– Sinz
The Vastness of Nonentity
The bliss of humanity, The precipice of hope,
The soluble rubble of languishing travesties, The “whoosh” of a sinking ship,
As it slips into the vastness of nonentity.
– Sinz
Depends
The world depends on idiots. – Esinz
Lucky Dog
I used to lay around, Barkin’ at the ground, Scratchin’ and a mopin’, I was really down,
Then you came and found me, baby, And took me to your home,
Now I’ve got someone who loves me, I’m not a dog without a bone,
I’m a lucky dog, ‘Cause I’ve got you. – Sinz
Beautiful Regrets
Of our fondest dreams in the anticipation of immortality, though we dwell in the land of chaos and confusion,
our beautiful regrets are always contained in the magnification of our inevitable path to the acceptance of reality.
– Esinz
Essence of Transgression
The essence of transgression lies in the immortality of our sins.
– Esinz
Hill of Beans
Climbing a hill of beans takes strong knees. – Sinz
Curb Blurb
The ramifications of the juxtaposition of irrationally integrated, iconoclastic curb blurb, as manifested insights,
are suffocated by the erroneous conclusions postured by diligent interpreters of self-loathing high wire hipsters.
– Sinz
Friends
Friends, like the petals of a flower, fall to the ground, and are scooped up in a golden dustpan, and given to the FriendMeister, who then finds appropriate homes for their pitiful souls.
You, my friend, are their salvation. Cherish your gift.
– Sinz
Dark of Dusk’s Demise
A lofty experiment it is, to twist the sugar from the cane, to whisk away the obvious, to replace the rational with absurd deviations and lackluster motives. Assuredly, the weary will retrieve their vitriol, to plague the turf minders, with anarchy’s whim. The fence of Awakening is trespassed only by the dark of dusk’s demise.
– Sinz
Deductions of Madmen
The bloody shirt of self-delusion, the fractious dilemma of dead reckoning, the salt of the earth, the twilight time, the rapture of congruent sidestepped alchemy, transient, vociferous insolvency — the deductions of madmen.
– Sinz
The Monument
The Monument stands, a forlorn tripod, a trinket of glory’s absurd bravado, but the dead of battles fought are taken with a grain of salt. – Sinz
Enlightenment’s First Stage
The first stage of enlightenment is to truly realize, accept, and transform your weaknesses and fallibilities.
– Esinz
Trail of Snail Guts
Seismic holograms of celestial proponents, retro-angular entropic references to distilled masqueraders, tonal distortions of graphic sonar transmutations, disturbed plantago upheavals of transgressing morphodyte malingerers. The trail of snail guts leads to the divestiture of socio-vortex enhancement. The criminal is not the crime.
– Sinz
Infinite Curiosities
Imagined interpretations of polymorphic realities can be the beginning of a descent into insanity or the ultimate revelation of intrinsic knowledge amid multifaceted truths and lies.
Open your mind and be humble in accepting and rejecting the infinite curiosities presented before you.
– Esinz
Bring It
Justice isn’t fair. It’s ruthless. Bring it. – Sinz
Servant’s House
In the servant’s house, there stirs a mouse that scours the floor for a crumb of bread. And in the master’s palace, the same is true — the mouse never bites off more than it can chew.
– Sinz
Wasps of Summer
May the wasps of summer be your winter of prosperity.
– Sinz
Hell to Pay
It’s a long dusty road, ain’t no bargain basement shopping day.
You pay for what you get, ain’t nothing given away.
And if you take the easy road, do your best, so they say.
But in the end, you wind up smoldering six feet under in your grave. If you’re gonna make it to Heaven, there’s gonna be a lot of Hell to pay.
– Sinz
On Love
Love someone for who they are not.
– Sinz
Coherent Incoherence
Is the incoherent really coherent?
Or merely indecipherable to those who lack curiosity and imagination? Live a life of wonder and you will never be lost in the chaos of life.
– Esinz
Summit of Summations
The summit of summations, yet to be recognized, perhaps merely a muted trumpet, a cascading waterfall of ambiguity, the rapscallion trigger finger orator of compromise. Thus presented, now excavated, to be demolished, a sanctified oath, a drop in the sand. The failure of
autonomy is in the swiftness of its rebellion.
– Sinz
Welcome friends of Jesus
Welcome friends of Jesus! May the vestibule of translucent enigma be shattered, as an arc to cephalic omnipotence sears the synapses of my predisposed recognizance, and the preordained emoluments visage the incremental portal to ‘parte non sequitur.
– Sinz
Food for Thought
“Oh, to lead an enchanted life. To be remembered in the blissful twang of a southern drawl. The swing dance rebellion kid. The rhapsodic manipulator. The sorrowful sensation. But for the sake of earnest inhibition, I could seize the rein of any hellbent horse and lasso tremendous mountains. But I’ll bite off more than I can chew, and spend eternity regurgitating that which I so eminently pursue.
Food for thought is tempered resolution.
– Sinz
Duality of Duality
The duality of duality is the duality of duality. To perceive God is to perceive Satan. To perceive Satan is to perceive God.
– Esinz
Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun
Double your pleasure, double your fun, wherever the mice hide, the cat will run. Look over yonder, under the sun, double your pleasure, double your fun. Double dog dare you, double or nothing, who chose one King, loses the other, could it be we all are not one? Double your pleasure, double your fun.
– Sinz
A Conversation with My Wife
“I got a call from my wife today. She’s gonna give me a key to her place. She’s concerned she might die and no one would know. She wants me to check on her every day. It’s funny how we live to grow old and die. She told me tonight she’s afraid to die. To be having this conversation is humbling, scary, freeing, and sad.”
– Sinz
Resolute Destiny
There is more to what is written than words. There is more to what is said than heard. The paradigm of life’s illusion is masked by the demise of hours. As I charge forward, the unknown is my resolute destiny.
– Sinz
Sweet Despair
I toil in earnest, only to rest in the sweetness of my despair. – Sinz
Thesaurus
This was a dinosaur back in medieval times that made people say the same thing, but using different words, to make their speech more interesting and colorful. It became extinct some years back, though, and I think another dinosaur ate it.
– Sinz
Road to Oblivion
Travel the road to oblivion and you will see the eternal beauty of emptiness and pure space.
– Esinz
On Stupidity & Reality
Stupidity reigns in the short run, while reality reigns in the long run. – Esinz
Dog
I just want to be reborn as a dog. – Esinz
The Blues Is a Good Thing
The blues is a good thing.
If you like misery,
Yeah, the blues is a good thing, If you love being in misery, ‘Cause everybody knows, Misery loves company.
Yeah, if you got the blues, You won’t ever be alone, Yeah, you get them blues, You don’t have to be alone, ‘Cause everybody’s got ‘em,
So go on now and get you some. ‘Cause you know the blues
Is a good thing.
Sometimes the wind just howls, Yes, the blues is a good thing, Sometimes that wind just howls, It’s calling to you,
Like it was your long-lost pal. Now you look around and see, The rich man on his knees, The poor man’s got to struggle, You’re in damn good company.
Yeah, them blues
Is a mighty good thing, If they weren’t, Then everybody
Would just be happy as can be. – Sinz
Cast Out Angel
Should I ration The Devil? Give him only the morsels of the remains of my disconcerting dilemmas? I think not.
These are of no concern to the Cast Out Angel. It is my Soul He wants.
A dilapidated building of crumbling mortar serves the mice well but lends no credence to my salvation. Have I built my house on the blood- soaked sands of my own treachery?
Let the mouse run up the clock. Hickory dickory dock. – Sinz
Why We Ride
We ride because there are paths that lead to prairies, and trails that lead to sunsets, and roads that lead to infamy.
– Sinz
The Poker-Faced Derringer Dude
Raucous gamblers on paddle wheel boats, the chandeliers swaying, the pianoforte clinking out an ocean of tears.
Do they beautify the world? Do they transcend the anger of the ages with compassion and tolerance?
Only the bravest die in the arms of salvation. As the ship takes its course, I too take mine. Let the dice roll, and deal the cards. I am the Poker-Faced Derringer Dude.
– Sinz
Nice and Honest
All I ask is that you be nice and honest. – Esinz
On Being Involved
To be involved, one must have a task. – Sinz
On Learning
You learn something new every day, whether you want to or not. – Esinz
Bewitchment
Watch the prevailing winds of time, and you will gaze into the bewitchment of the effervescence contained in the experience of living. – Esinz
Idiot Dependency
The world depends on idiots. – Esinz
Anticipation of Immortality
In anticipation of immortality, despite dwelling in the land of chaos and confusion, our beautiful regrets are always contained in the magnification of our inevitable path to accepting reality.
– Esinz
Abandoned Words
I cannot hate that which I cannot fabricate. I cannot love that which I cannot interpolate.
I cannot stand in the empty streets of a rhetorical abyss and scream for mercy. I cannot talk in the language of peace. But I can hold my tongue in the heat of confrontation and let the wind howl through my abandoned words.
– Sinz
How We All Can Go to Heaven
The only breach between heaven and hell is the animosity we share with our neighbors. Hate should be measured and then dissipated. Then we can all skip hell and go to heaven.
– Esinz
At the Beckon of Envy’s Whim
I just want to be an old man, drive around in my truck, cruise down memory lane, throw a nickel at the rain, spend summers in Spain, through my windshield, and steal away, at the beckon of envy’s whim. – Sinz
The Flight of a Gull
Watch the flight of a gull on the sea, and you will see the ocean open before thee!
– Esinz
Nothingness Found
Certain characters of mortality blemish the landscape of satirist cognizance. Wishing to instruct the catapult to throw its wrath is mundane humor. I know of the valley, the wood hue of Taragon.
I wander in depths of sincere bonds to frequency. Stars that touch diamonds echo nomenclaturistic duties. I must explain minutiae? No, it isn’t fair voyager, nor is it tumultuously justice. I calm the twisted nerve of intellect with sight of mind, knowing these words. Too loose, I’ve found nothingness.
– Sinz
As We Whirl
The round sun spins around a spiraling earth as we whirl around our sacred ground in both confusion and certainty.
– Esinz
Of Trilogies
Of trilogies, sane and like-minded comparisons are dauntingly overestimated in effectual value. I am sacrilege in the scope of the mortgage of one’s “witches brew” for pennies of satiates on seasons of mercy. Let me not speak the wisdom of profligates, but the paradigms of ration and confluence.
– Sinz
I Should
I should come in peace, as I should wear the shroud of Omen in the highest kingdom of Sumatra. I should shun the dark, as I should monopolize the time of many with zany tricks and postures. I should do that which is right and good for the sake of humanity, as I should vow to never recede in my earnest effort to survive amongst the elegant masses. But shall I? Perhaps I am only here to grease the wheels of a
lesser or greater design. I will participate. Let the games begin!
– Sinz
Incomprehensibilities of Time
The incomprehensibilities of time are few and many. Still, we must submit to the inevitability of beginnings and endings.
– Esinz
Disharmony of Defeat
The disharmony of defeat may be as pure as a never-ending struggle and as vile as a misspoken word out of context.
– Esinz
Conundrum of the Human Condition
The conundrum of the human condition: our dreams are of heaven, but our desires are of hell.
– Esinz
Beggar of Silk
Wealth: I am the beggar of silk, the translucent cod redeeming the mangled crock of the oracles, seeming of pity to one that relinquishes freedom for angst amidst tridents. I roll in high clouds, service the stout kettle of the kindred, and allies of consults steer my viscous to naivety. – Sinz
The Mad Card
The antiquity of local gestures, froth of now-ended rebar, patched Soho gell quads. I only care to speak the tongue of laughing monkeys in prose and dialogue with optimizers of second-generation dilettantes. I care
for Raton, east in cymbal logic, whose rage is pleasant, demure in well deep spectacles. Turn to stone the oft-used want for depth. The surface bleeds regalia, delights the non-quantum sectarian as I, that rationalize the mad card, dealt by benevolent hands.
– Sinz
Embrace Entropy
Listen, and you will hear the relentless silence of entropy. Embrace it, and you will sense pure beauty.
– Esinz
Erasers
I journey to the unknown, that can embrace true knowledge.
Forgive the mathematician his evititude, the qualification of defunct reason. The chalkboard eraser will mark his foreclosure.
I will inspect the dust for the Isopic integers.
– Sinz
The Heroic Struggles of Everyday People
The rise and fall of civilizations is merely the lapping of the waves upon the shores of eternal strife. What matters and must be remembered are the heroic struggles of everyday people to survive from one day to the next.
– Esinz
Somewhere
Thirty seconds of somewhere, for sequential introspective diversions of thought, that relate to the honor of the passage of immortal time, quicksilver salvager, the ambient recluse, loses no sleep chasing lost dogs. I seek no valor, no white fire to comfort my iridescent cold shoulder of turpitude. To be lost in the vague hailstorm, that is my contextual being,
I suffer no malice toward the dim effect of Pascal’s conjecture. All man bleeds of hope. All lies in ruin that defines the horizons.
– Sinz
Winds of Change
The winds of change blow through the trees with the heart of a mad monkey swinging wildly above the mantle of an incandescent moon in a desert forest.
– Esinz
The Science of a Genesis
The dialectic of an ape is the science of a genesis. – Esinz
Pursuit of Truth
Am I Rumi mad, absurd in ashes of charred dedications of insufficient truculence, forthright, diligent, ungracious, fervent verministic caustic mad? Have I let go the travesticnonsequituristic travails of redemptive fortitude? Given away to the sea’s vacuous current, sucked down to eel’s nest, the pale doom of emptiest privation. I smile at with turned-down brow the retro examinations of my travails and meanderings in my quest for exemptitude of stick form bonds. To touch a corner of my truth,
I lie to my brethren senses. I circumvent my challenge with the weak moments of reflection. But, I travel still, incredulous, in search of the harmony of unknowing.
– Sinz
Crucible
Life is a crucible that either makes us stronger or simply leaves us wandering aimlessly among the ruins of our struggles and humiliations. – Esinz
Dialectic of an Ape
The dialectic of an ape is the science of a genius. – Esinz
Run to the Ridge
Run to the ridge to see the dystopian concepts of a world that will never be.
– Esinz
Embrace the Truth of Not Knowing
Faith and fear interfere with our abilities to wonder and seek new horizons. Instead, be in awe of the unknown possibilities that await you. Embrace the truth of not knowing and mysteries beyond imagination and belief. Seek enlightenment in a single drop of rain falling into an infinite sea and rippling into eternity.
– Esinz
The Ecstasy of Being
The waves of light transfix us with happiness, but we should see the beauty of translucence in the sea and sand of temporal joy and humanity. Walk among the souls of the living and the dead and you will see perseverance in the face of doubt, and know the ecstasy of being.
– Esinz
There’s Always Time
Time is always in a hurry. Gotta learn to take life slow, and give a damn. And rest assured to know, there’s always time, to ease my mind, and let the river flow.
– Sinz
This Nine Lives Thing
“This nine lives thing is bullshit.” – Esinz
Pauper Among the True Gods of Wisdom
In some dim, shadowless enclave in my mind, the sediments of supposed logic drift under the waves of misguided interpretations, quasi ethereal assumptions, and proposed assertions about the knowledge of life’s triangular stranglehold on what is now, and what shall be.
I know not.
I propose theories and wrestle with my fate.
But I am limited to a guessing game of introspection.
I aspire to be King.
But I am a pauper among the true Gods of wisdom, the unseen manipulators of destiny.
Let then my ignorance spark their attention, rather than my intelligence dull their intention.”
– Sinz
Be Bewildered
See the narrow passageways to redemption and salvation and you will be canonized for eternity. Contemplate the sad beauty of a broken rose and you will be immortalized in that moment for love of life. Be bewildered and you will truly understand.
– Esinz
Pissed Off
That which doesn’t kill me just pisses me off. – Esinz
Whatever
Whatever. – Esinz
Disparate Hope
Thus it was a mere thought, a folly for a moment of life. But now to return amongst the fray, another deserted castle,
left to crumble in the sand.
I station my guard, and rationalize my revocation with disparate hope. – Sinz
On Broken Hearts
You can catch a butterfly, hold it in your hand, for a little while, but it will never stay, butterflies are just that way.
Or you can wish upon a star, have your dreams come true,
but soon its light will fade, stars are just that way.
You can follow a rainbow, to the end of the earth, find a pot of gold, but what would that be worth?
Or you can take this broken heart of mine, kiss my lips and say you love me, and I will never stray, broken hearts are just that way.”
– Sinz
Philosophy of Finis
It is minuscule, anti-polarity, recon-splash drive, surge in retrograde hypothesis, horseback hogwash, dilemma delegated remonstrance attuned platitude hair band rubbish to assume that I can resolve the arcane wisdom of this estuary of fate. The hopes that crush dreams are merely silt. The rooster crows at sun up and the coyote howls at the moon. The philosophy of Finis.”
– Sinz
Hold the Mayo
It’s eerie in death’s doorway. Waiting from a child to a man. Brothers and sisters pass by on their way. I’m like the guy selling hotdogs off to the side. I hear the stories and hold the mayo.
– Sinz
Wounds of Abrogation
Anything good can be made to be evil. The bondage of salvation licks at the wounds of abrogation. There is a wall that separates good and evil, and it is always negotiating turf rights with either side. The responsible citizens fear both sides.
I look to the wall. It is my compass. The wall is the desert between closure and commencement. I regale in my infamy.
– Sinz
Pros and Cons
Beneficent embracement of timocracy, which has many positive inurements, can also devolve into oligarchic perceptions of divine righteousness. There are pros and cons to everything!
– Esinz
High Noon
High noon. The morning glories have bloomed. The nightingale has changed its feathers. The delicious vapor of sweltering heat enlightens my surreptitious revolt. But, the black thicket of night waits in the hills, to roll asunder, in its thirst for anarchy.
– Sinz
God’s Presence
In every blade of grass, in every tree, and every bird that sings, in every bug that crawls, or beast that walks, in every babe that cries or son that dies, there is an overwhelming presence of God.
– Sinz
Defiance
Defiance is my contiguous propagator of longevity.
I relax in the slobber of response data, refluxing incoherent admonitions, off-kilter compliant rhetorical excuses that simply do not excel in systematic cohesive environments.
Can I be that gesture from an orb that flutters in the gloom of dusk?
Yes, I can.
Could I be the sonic portent that hurtles atoms at star blasters, surfacing to be imploded by reckless earshot insinuators?
Yes, I could.
Shall I be the termination of fixed dialog manipulation?
No, I shall not.
I believe I will just mealy-mouth my way through the grand nature of argumentation and say as little as possible with a lot of nonsensical jargon, and remain bewildered by the validation of my own stupidity. – Sinz
Flippancy of Fame
The cheese wedge is a fixture in a felicitous fervor when plated in a silicon matrix of coterminous alloy.
A special ambulatory etiquette in the slicing is required, but a good fellow as myself should be mindful of the ramifications of exalting the moment. It is a grand thing, this ability to slice with panache.
Though never underestimate the flippancy of fame. – Sinz
The Bullseye Shakespearean
Love me for who I am not, not for who I am.
Race through the valleys and mountains on my whispers of hope, Rest in the tall grass of my derisive aloofness.
A picture of silence, A deliverance of mania, The mask of occlusion.
Say that which I am not, not that which I am. The fast horse, The slow carriage,
The ridiculous laugh of a mad traitor, The relic of conspiracy’s conscription, The antithesis of an enigma,
The folly of a fool,
The Bullseye Shakespearean. – Sinz
Two Riders
Two riders, on their way, down a dusty trail.
Two riders, one swarthy, one pale.
Two riders, one by the name of Josephus Montague, a treacherous and evil, nervous, and mean, back shooting liar and cheat, known as “Monte”, and another man named Eliza Smithers, fast with a gun, and slow with a knife, a sadistic torturer, a born killer, appeared in the
horizon. They were both fugitives from what little law there was in those desperate times.
Antonio Savante saw the two riders coming. Trouble was too close. He shot both of them dead.
Two riders, on their way, down a dusty trail.
Two riders. – Sinz
The Redactical
The sonnet of celestial sequins, the swirling dusk, the whirl of twilight, the wistful shore. The abyss of freedom, the doom of night.
The Redactical.
– Sinz
Get Redactical
The pre-redactical truth, the ir-redactical proof, the contra-redactical groove, the anti-redactical move.
– Sinz
Survivor
A vapid helix of academic alliances, interspersed in the redactical sphere of cosmopolitan influence, gives utterance to the thought that, of orbital beings, I am an amalgamation of granite and ice, as is the Earth itself. So, I ponder the questions, and realize no definitive objective. I partake in the event. Not to gain or lose. Simply to survive.
– Sinz
Disheveled One
He that is disheveled in clothes, may be THE ONE disguised. – Sinz But if he be THE ONE, I recommend a bath, and shave, at least. – Sinz
Say Now
Say now, what is the hour? Say now, what is the day? Reprobate hearsay delegation of conscious atrophy no doubt.
– Sinz
To Bee or Not to Bee
Bee what I am, not what I could bee.
– Sinz
Telltale Time
Time tells tales to tasty toasted tidbits trying to tempt triangular tapestries to twirl tremendous toe tap ticklers to tiny tropic terrains. – Sinz
Go Fish
To suck the molecular particles from a tuna can lid, must I be a fish? I’ll recompense my incriminations with, no doubt, opportunity.
– Sinz
Hell to Pay
All the tea in China isn’t worth a dime. To err is human;
the price is paid by dying.
The cost is corrupt injustice though.
The triumph is an evil and traitorous collusion.
Taken at a glance,
the pundits relay the cry for more riches.
This double down hypocrisy melts the steel of insurrection.
A mere flinch foretells the death of arrogance.
There is hell to pay when there is money to be made.
– Sinz
On Believing
To believe in God. Or to believe I am God. Perhaps it is that I am that in which I believe. The valleys and rivers are my incarnation.
The richest man, and the poorest, are my whims. Life and death are my inceptions. Who is to say, which way I’ll sway.
I prefer to be God, than believe. And if my choice is wrong, who would come against me for being willing to accept such a responsibility?
– Sinz
Tiniest Ant
Instead of being God, I’d rather be the tiniest ant crawling my way to the top of the ant hill and into the grass.
– Esinz
The Problem with Being God
You know what the problem is with being God? The problem is that you are God!
– Sinz
Remission’s Pardon
The things we do, to avoid the things we don’t want to do, seem to baffle the banal informalities of resurgence, to suffocate the inspired eyes of recompense for opportunity and ingenuity, the better part of remission’s pardon, gone for lack of introspective illusion.
– Sinz
The Whittler
I am The Whittler. No fancy fair. No cross to bear. I carve and curl my wooden fare, of oblong faces, and vacant stares. My tools of trade? A trusty blade. A bit of shade. And time’s immortal grace.
– Sinz
Portal of Espionage
Do I have the right to travel through this portal of espionage, this geometric puzzle of diastrophic, euphonious deception? I believe so.
– Sinz
Introspective Calamity
Symptomatic of my dismayed temperament, an abrupt resurgence into an ice storm of dilemma, avoided by mere default, a conduit to the emancipation of inshallah, the residual effect of introspective calamity.”
– Sinz
Os Ti Eb
So be it. It be so. Be so it. Osti eb. – Sinz
Oath to Paradise
Cultivate the wit to sing of soldier’s journeys, of cafes on cobble streets, of love’s tragedy. The oath to paradise is a handshake agreement.
– Sinz
Diametric Dissolution
Diametric dissolution of fact is real. Say not, see not, believe not. – Sinz
The Married Bachelor
Seems a bit obscure,
turns no place, certainly, I’m sure.
That’s no way now,
to shake the leaves today.
Anything is okay If I turn away.
Crazy things I say.
I am the Married Bachelor.
And come what may,
I will never make the same mistake But truly
I may be on my way. – Sinz
Service Elevator
Listen to the service elevator grinding its way up the shaft. I welcome defeat. I am overwhelmed. A tragic figure looms in my future. An indoctrination? I listen to the service elevator grinding its way up the shaft.
– Sinz
Unless We Dream
The sum of all tangents equals nil, unless we dream. – Sinz
Avoracious and the Devil’s Backbone
Avoracious is a euphemistic word used in place of Avaricious which, used contextually, fortifies the idea of artistic license, in a literary sense. That being said, though, the change in spelling does encrypt the Devil’s Backbone, that being an “o” replacing the “a” in a word ending in “ious.”
The 16th century monks of Perdue in southern France were the first to execute writers for this blasphemous tradition. But, over time, as literary artists held to their cause, many a Devil’s Backbone word did find its way into the vernacular, and nowadays it is only considered a purgatory offense.
– Sinz
The Never Mind Savant
I made the judgment. I hunkered down, and rifled through my happenstance brain,
antagonizing the spirited ensemble of characters
that dream in affirmation’s rooftop and speak in logic’s basement.
I’ve run before.
I’ll be careful, though,
To whisper in my conscious breath, To walk in gallant times,
To see with topaz eyes, The envoy of rationalism, The portrayer of pretense, the curator’s proclivity.
I am the neighbor’s cat.
I am the barking dog in the distance.
What is justified is often nullified by erratic impulse.
I will always be the Never Mind Savant. – Sinz
Hearsay Knowledge
Is it the indignity of my wrath that plagiarizes my soul’s dysfunctional anecdotal meanderings in hearsay knowledge?
I continue to subvert my thought process with shallow attempts to persuade myself that I must embrace all things with benevolence, and be enlightened by the smallest particle of energy.
It is my acquisition, this responsibility to participate.
It is my obligation to this planet to connect, to energize, to persuade, to pursue.
To persevere. – Sinz
Prosaic Anomalies
The prosaic anomalies of our insatiable search for a transparent meaning in our self-righteous fears and hopes can only be resolved in the realization of the universal chasm between bitterness and joy.
– Esinz
Indigestible Notions
The unequivocal asylum of our indigestible notions of the retributions of future indecipherable anticipations of the beauty and the ugliness of our passions and our profound insights is only resolved in our desperate search for truth
– Esinz
Dreams
The sanctity of our dreams is in the sagacity of our ineptitude. – Esinz
Writers of Little Words
The writers of little words exclaim the proof is verified in the transparencies of the act, that being immortal conflict with other tangible mephitis that coagulate in nervous dispose, juxtaposed in order of rank and file, the mongers of status quo hyperbole. I’ll write my epilogue in ant wine syrup, relieved of any suggestion of acquisition of fact. Let the rules be spared.
– Sinz
Prisoner
I am my own prisoner, for I cannot set myself free.
– Sinz
The End
I pulled myself from a ditch. Looking over the carnage, I resumed my fate. That being the end of all humanity’s slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
– Sinz
Hue of Nectar
That hue of nectar that subverts the truth,
Is but a cross faded charade of lampshade loungers lusting over tedious telemarketers.
As I inch my way past the unceremonious sidestepping rhetoric of an airtight synopsis, I realize the taboo rituals and altruistic theories of karmic hallucinations I have acquired assure a presence of mind that relinquishes me of incrimination.
The repartee of a song bird bolsters my mirage, and I see through the smoke of disintegrated cities, and challenge the unknown forces that prey on my conscience.
I am the torrent.
I am the aperture reflex of a bicycle moon that slings me to the apex of derision, only to imbue my erudite manifestations of thought with Serengeti sandstorms that whirl me onward to a celestial nocturne of enlightenment.
– Sinz
Superfluous Justifications
Can superfluous justifications of reality induce us to perceive incorrectly the notions of right and wrong, or should we choose to perceive manifestations of our declarations of the innate conceptions of justice? – Esinz
Riptide Blues
Cinnamon cupcakes, Mustard hotdogs, Caramel apples:
Riptide Blues
Good news, Bad news, Two left shoes:
Riptide Blues.
Guessing at the whims of time,
Blowing through the Cracker Jack box for the prize: Riptide Blues.
So I say, to the Golden Girl, living on the street, Walk into the rain,
Taste the sweet pain, Riptide Blues.
Am I forever? Am I lost?
Find me, and lose me.
I’ll be the trespasser, in your castle of fear.
Riptide Blues. – Sinz
The Nomad
Embrace the system! Embrace collusion!
Words are of little justice to the incriminators.
I stand in the meadow’s bliss. I angle my ship’s course to lands of innocence. I dwell in the sands of cosmic shadows. I entice my singularity with insurrection.
I am the Nomad.
The unseen.
The vindicator of the buried, the interpreter of beauty’s crime, the surreptitious stranger that beckons fear to my neighbor’s door.
– Sinz
The True Vulcan
In his darkest moments of despair, the imposter cringes in fear. But the true Vulcan, welded in his quest, turns defeat to victory, and relishes the fight. For it is the hard road he seeks, to sharpen his blade, with the blood of his enemies.
– Sinz
Victory’s Remorse
I pulled myself from a ditch. Looking over the carnage,
I resolved my fate. I could not recall the foreboding,
demonstrative allegations.
Perjured on my behalf by the totalitarian monarchy’s henchmen, They reviled me as a Corsair, or, at times, a swindler of faith
Twill never be seen in the thoughts of babes nor fools, that which is connived in the hearts of men with no arms to grasp the innocence of love’s twisted bargain, no legs to run through streets of passion, no eyes to see the truth, no tongues to taste true victory’s remorse.
– Sinz
Just Like Jesse James
I can’t live forever, Gonna die anyway, Lookin over my shoulder,
That’s the price I gotta pay.
Just like Jesse James They might think I’m crazy.
But I don’t really care. ‘Cause all I’ve ever known, Is a trail that leads nowhere.
Just like Jesse James Gone too far to turn back now,
So I’ll keep movin on.
Never meant to hurt no one, Somehow it went all wrong.
Just like Jesse James
If everything wa different, I’d still be the same, Can’t trust nobody, Gotta do it on my own, Ain’tnothin set in stone. Just like Jesse James.
– Sinz
The Excalibur Inoculation
Exposed for the tyrant’s buckle. Or silver and shine. Of reservoir lakes. The sparkle of cities. The end of defiance. Pestry’s silk foyer to hell’s fervor. Such is the ratification of endowed salvation.
– Sinz
Sure Bet
Is it the sanguine hostess smiling as the little boy tries to explain how much he loves baseball and catching dragonflies and building treehouses?
Or is it the lace-up shoe-attired symbiotic relapser in the corner booth scratching his head with his fork?
Who’s running this menagerie of hop scotch boomerang pick-up sticks?
Old Macdonald?
Fear not traveler. The Samurai swordsman that just walked in is the sure bet.
– Sinz
Infinite Disparities.
If you can see the beauty of the nocturnal universe, then perhaps you can perceive the ratification of innumerable insanities twirling in space and live to be at one with infinite disparities.
– Esinz
Secret Sign
The cantilevering audacity of a lost belief is a secret sign on the road to eternal bliss.
– Esinz
On Resilience
Are we to be or not to be? That is not the question. The question is how do we be resilient from day to day in a world of vertiginous thoughts and experiences that eventually culminate in not to be?
– Esinz
The Wheelwork of Our Insecurities
Tribulations over justice and injustice are the wheelwork of our insecurities.
– Esinz
Stand
Stand on the stations of nobility and from afar you will see the ignominy and desperation of defeat.
– Esinz
The insanity of our intuitions
The beauty of the world is in the insanity of our intuitions. Ask not for succor and compensations for the disappointments of life. Instead, surge into the meaningless sufferings that befall you.
– Esinz
The Dogs of Mercury
Disparage the rafters, those sideboard clapping, anglified rectors of this enviable castle, the still uninhabited asylum of imposition that denies the topographic warden of his dirt and rock investment in reprobate assuaged cloak and dagger tomfoolery. Bass for the fisherman on the rainstorm sea! Do I swirl in depth charged epitaphs of forlorn lovers? Nay! Debunked of steel ribbons I challenge the dogs of mercury to witness the crumbling edifice I have built to destroy.
– Sinz
Benign indifference
Taste the effluent generosity of benign indifference and you will know the error of your ways.
– Esinz
Tortoise
Does the tortoise on a hill cry for mercy? No, it struggles down to reach the sea.
– Esinz
Unspoken Dreams
Fear not the calamitous destruction of your unspoken dreams, for they will live forever in your heart and soul!
– Esinz
On Novelty
Where is the novelty? It must surely be beyond the island. There can be no finalization, just as there is no surety.
Time becomes a non-existent reality… The question does not lead to decadence, rather to a preserving growth.
Purpose evades us still and now we laugh for the rules are changed – it chases us in vain. Continuance is our reason; the controlled reactant, novelty, our fuel. Purpose should not be allowed to stifle our precociousness. It does, novelty will turn against us. We are not children of the universe; we are its being.
– MSinz (the Mother of Sinz and Esinz)
Make ‘Em Pay/Every One of ‘Em
Make the bastards pay, every foot of the way. – Esinz (advice to my parents at the end of a letter in 1975) Reticent phobia slackers. Every one of ’em.
– Sinz
Fodder for Thought
The mind races, To the unknown finish line. The Triathlon of fear, envy, and lust is never won. The loser takes the medal. The strength of Hercules underscores my intent though, And the ramifications are fodder for my fire. Relinquish and revive. – Sinz
Be sure to saute, To the tauter, Of the dodder, Don’t totter, Just be fodder, And see the water
– Esinz
The Die Is Cast
The good die young, the great die baffled. – Sinz
The amazing die wondering, The bizarre die happy, The smart die stupid, The mean die nice, The nice die mean, The old die soon, The superior die incredulous, The forgiving die in bliss, The magnificent die bewildered.
– Esinz
Tall and Small
Am I as tall sitting down, as I am standing up? – Sinz
No, you are as small as you are sitting down as you are standing up.
– Esinz
Gurgle
Swim with the river. – Esinz Or sleep with the fish. – Sinz
Gurgle, gurgle, always gurgle. – Esinz
On Seeking, Right and Wrong
In the ineffable streams of prognathory justifications of right and wrong, we should also seek the indemnification of the spirit of those whom we hate.
– Esinz
Pockets of Kings
Words are not great enough to express the unjust, jaw jutting excuses for right and wrong. Those that are passionate in love, are likewise fervent in hate. I do not seek to compensate the souls of those that loathe me. I search for perseverance and dignity. And empathy. The pockets of Kings are weighted in sand.
– Sinz
On Greatness
Greatness comes from being put into a circumstance not of one’s choice, and becoming part of a plan that remedies a situation that is greater than one’s trivial thoughts.
– Sinz
Greatness is great, but the trivial thoughts and actions of a sycophant are what make the world go round.
– Esinz
Good & Bad, Up & Down
I’m not near as good as I think I am, Nor as bad as I profess to be.
– Sinz
But you do know more when up is down and down is up.
– Esinz
Aloha / Surprise
When I come within 45 minutes of a warp field inclusion, all I have to say is, ‘Aloha.’
– Esinz
Ah, but the surprise is always at the bottom of the box. – Sinz
Illiterate and Alliterate This
I’m so illiterate that I claim that I’m not illiberal, which is my word for illiteracy.
– Esinz
Al asked me to alliterate an antiquated anthem of algorithmic anachronisms and actuate my anastatic aphorisms.
– Sinz
The Devil’s Worst Nightmare
I am the Devil’s worst nightmare – a human being seeking justice and equality. That said, I kind of feel sorry for the Devil. After all, the Devil is in Hell forever.
– Esinz
Tears
The Philosophy of Chaos, that leads stray souls of languor to secede the only tangible evidence of a thought, by talking out of the sides of their mouth. Never underestimate the stupidity of super smart people.
It isn’t the average bloke on the street that tears a nation to the ground. Hail to the massive institution of higher learning. Why I’m so smart, I don’t even have to think.
– Sinz
I tear at the jagged tears of the soul torn apart by tyrannical tirades tearing down crowded streets of insolent fastidiousness.
– Esinz
On Shriveling
You can grow and still shrivel. – Esinz
You can be divine and still shrivel on the vine. – Esinz
Say What?
Why is what and what is why. – Esinz Why? What? Ad infinitum. – Sinz
Focusing on Never & Always
I focus on never, and always I find. – Sinz I focus on always, And I never find. – Esinz
Wake Me Up
I search in vain, And still remain, The concerto plays, A wicked game, Such is said, Of the silver thread, Wake me up, When I am dead. – Sinz
When I am dead, Wake me up, Of the silver thread, Such is said, A wicked game, The concerto plays, And still remain, I search in vain. – Esinz
Sun, Mars, Son, & Bacon
I’m done with the Sun. Let’s just stare at the stars and travel to Mars. – Esinz
Land on the sun, Your bacon is done, son. – Sinz Amen. – Esinz
Satan’s Shoe Cocoa Pebbles
The savages have returned to the massacre, to dissolve the apparitions of tranquility into an eerie mire of dissolution. A brain-dead corpse of systematic insanity parts the sea for the drowning plague of narcissism that oozes cruelty.
Farewell kind fishers of souls. Forget salvation. I take my leave of fear’s stranglehold. For I am undaunted. I am the rock in Satan’s shoe. – Sinz
I am a pebble in Satan’s shoe. – Esinz
I am a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles on Lucifer’s Lazy Boy recliner. – Sinz
Anarchical Wave
Somnambulant sea, where do you flow? Has the antithetic halo of emulated heroes gone down in the storm of illusion? Where are the sailors that resigned to the flag? Their honor forsaken to the deep. The ships of destiny, washed ashore in beauty’s anarchical wave. The battlefield only a parlor game to aristocrats, red with the blood of treachery, of those that sit at the Captain’s Table. – Sinz
Anarchical is the blue wave of farcical (in rerum natura). – Esinz
Duality of Concurrency, Duality of Duality
The duality of concurrency is the endowment of belief. – Sinz The duality of duality is the duality of duality. To perceive God is to
perceive Satan. To perceive Satan is to perceive God. – Esinz
Honor of a Thief
The assorted cherry picker’s inculcating remorse, triggered by fear and homemade remedies, the insouciant lateral time-bomb witnesses, a coagulated misshapen vase, the broken carousel of life, the honor of a thief. – Sinz
The insouciant honor of a thief is but the inculcated remorse of a damsel in distress on the broken carousel of coagulated despondencies over unrequited love and the parthenogenic embodiments of serenity and despair. – Esinz
Menageries
A menagerie of soft spoken hypochondriacs scuffled about in the foyer, awaiting a new entrancement. Word, that the English subterranean glamor hierarchy had a test case serenity drug, had brought in the heavy hitters.
The sinus ache trollers sniffling cohorts railed the data as incomplete, and refused the treatment, vowing to go down in gunfire before being inoculated.
A war of brothers and sisters was stewing across the nations. But, as more cases of anxiety were cured by the miracle drug, the arguments declined. Thus, we now have understanding amongst strangers. Peace is a hard pill to swallow. – Sinz
Menageries can be tragedies if you don’t have strategies. – Esinz
Destination Disillusionment
Sitting on the curb, Scratching lines in the gravel, Stick arms glued to bony hands, The ratchet clanging sounds of the trucks whirling by, the destination of dreary disillusionment. – Sinz
On the ship of disillusionment? Dive off and swim with the sharks and the dolphins! – Esinz
Future / Past
Focus on the future, don’t dwell on the past – Esinz
Grane, Grain and Bear It
He grane of strain
Is the strain of grane. – Esinz
A grain of salt, A bellyful of laughs, A penny for your thoughts, And that’s that, Listen up,
And don’t talk back.
What it is, And where it’s at.
The effusion of conscious thought into dialogue provokes havoc on the scene of senseless noun derivation. We’ll, right on, man!
– Sinz
Snow off a buffalo’s back
If I had time to blow, I’d eat some snow, Off the back of a Buffalo.
– Sinz
In case our readers don’t know, The snow off the back of a Buffalo, Is actually very tasty! – Esinz
Nowhere to Go
I would rather have a long way to go. Than nowhere to go. – Sinz I would rather have nowhere to go. And then come up with a show!
– Esinz
A River Runs Through It
Swimming through the river You may find your liver, But if you fail to deliver,
Please give up your quiver. – Esinz
Mr. Onion and Miss Liver, Lived by the river,
And were married one summer day.
To their dismay, On their wedding day,
They were cooked up and eaten for dinner.
The moral of the story, In all its vainglory,
Has yet to be delivered. But needless to say, Best stay away,
When the frying pan beckons you to come hither. – Sinz
Future / Past
Focus on the future, don’t dwell on the past – Esinz
Insouciant Shrug
The gratification of an insouciant shrug is a parlance of the measured ineptitude of a condescending Neanderthal.
– Esinz
Luck
If you depend on luck, Then you suck.
– Esinz
When I think I’ve got it made, there’s always another day, to face the trials and tribulations this world throws my way.
On a scale of one to ten, I can reckon that I’ve been, from the top to the bottom, and back up again, a thousand times.
There’s dues that I have paid, all along the way, and doors I’ve opened, and just strolled right in.
But the funny thing about it is, the future is always in doubt, so I’ll take my chances, and stick it out.
Cause there isn’t a remedy, for what ails me. There’s no pill to swallow, to take my blues away.
I just keep on looking up and try to make a buck. Cause if I win or lose, It’s just dumb luck.
– Sinz
Troubled
It is my intention to be troubled.
Nonchalant martyrdom is my latitude in the sea breeze of synergistic kelp that foray the ocean’s heavens.
– Sinz
God
You know what the problem is with being God? The problem is that you are God! – Esinz
Instead of being God, I’d rather be the tiniest ant crawling my way to the top of the ant hill and into the grass. – Esinz
To believe in God. Or to believe I am God. Perhaps it is that I am that in which I believe. The valleys and rivers are my incarnation.
The richest man, and the poorest, are my whims. Life and death are my inceptions. Who is to say, which way I’ll sway. I prefer to be God, than believe.
And if my choice is wrong, who would come against me for being willing to accept such a responsibility. – Sinz
Call Your Engines Mighty
Past the thicket by the old fence, down by the old rusted out Plymouth, I stopped to take stock in my trifling’s with the ways of this world.
I sat against an old tree and wondered why, and a whisper brought me this reply: You are not the beacon on a ship.
You are not the mast, nor the compass, The mighty sea you cannot tame,
Nor the sands of shorelines, nor the tall grass that wisps in the sun.
Take heed though, and call your engines mighty, for you are the strength of the mountain, and you have lived in dreams forever.
– Sinz
The Leader
If I were to follow the auspices of a leader,
then I would simply be a parchment of words and dictates. I own no grass nor earthen promises, A brook is what I am.
The vast seas give over to the construes of majestic accomplishments of sailors gone down with their ships.
I have no such glory to pretext. I inherit the forests gloom and the mountains vainglory.
I meander in no precluded direction. No insurrection plans my course. I am not of the spirit, nor of the flesh. I answer to no architecture,
no heads of state, no vengeance is in my calling.
I obscure my defiance with the cackle and click of the denizens of the dark.
The light of the valorous shines on the few infiltrators of my entity.
Know me, as the bird knows it’s song. – Sinz
Patrons of Virtue
Wind fills the sails of ships and destroys, the lives of struggling patrons of virtue. So, both embrace the service of the wind and accept its potential for destruction.
– Esinz
Day of Storms
Save your wisdom for a sunny day,
For on a day of storms it will be destroyed.
– Esinz
Victory
All the gold and riches sweet, Will end up at my feet, My sorrow, and defeat,
Will bring the victory, that I do not seek.
The mercenary lies in wait, But I will not hesitate.
The fallen lift the contraband, And shift the timeless desert sands. What is not seen, Is my envoy to peace.
Dissolution is the prophet’s armor! – Sinz
Troubled
It is my intention to be troubled.
Nonchalant martyrdom is my latitude in the sea breeze of synergistic kelp that foray the ocean’s heavens.
– Sinz
Anonymous Compassion
Stochastic metaphors silence the unbridled definitions of supercilious recognitions of good and evil. Breathe and exhale in anonymous compassion, And you will feel the freedom of a benevolent universe. – Esinz
The Eye of the Perceiver
Are two eyes better than one? Is the perception of reality in the eyes, Or eye of the perceiver?
Yes, more eyes are better in attempting to perceive reality, But no one will ever see it.
– Esinz
Secondary Visions
Move beyond the secondary visions of right and wrong,
And be enveloped by not knowing the true wonder of the universe.
– Esinz
The Swan
Say to the swan, ‘What is the glory of your beauty’’ And it will say ‘I am a swan and I swim in a lake.’ – Esinz
The Unknown
I do not know how to find the door to heaven, But I do know how to find the door to hell. Always choose the unknown! – Esinz
The Error of Your Ways
Can you see the flight of a sparrow fleeing from a hawk? If you can, then perhaps you can see the error of your ways.
– Esinz
Solace
Does the ocean cry for solace? No, it cries for beauty. – Esinz
The Wolf
Does the wolf cry to the earth in peril of night?
Or to the heavens, the moon of bright? – Sinz
The Moon Sees All
The moon sees all, but we only see it. I would rather see it than see all. – Esinz
To See or Not To See:
To see or not to see, to cry or not, to find and choose or not to, Those are the questions of Sinz and Esinz.
– Sinz
The Stand
Stand for one, and you will stand for many. – Esinz
A Friend of Jesus
We are all both God and Satan, insofar as we make moral decisions about good and evil. Jesus showed us the way to be more like God. Although I am an agnostic, I am a friend of Jesus. Happy Easter!
– Esinz
Saints and Sinners
A seismic confluence of disreputable conflagrance construes considerably more incredulous disparity between, say, those who have been to the well of sanctimonious regurgitation, and the pantomime inmates of a world that maintains an obsession with the blood of saints and sinners.
– Sinz
Faith and Reality
We live in a world of idiots, but do not be caught up in their ignorance. Instead, look for ways to manage their stupidity to achieve congruence between faith and reality.
– Esinz
Sword and Scribe
Are we the rectifiers of uncertainty? Am I the bread of dusk? I am the dawn’s interpolation of the afterburn of the ancient subculture of Sword and Scribe.
– Sinz
A Windless Day
A sail on a ship is like the destiny of life – moving the ship forward, but occasionally causing it to crash in a storm on the shoals of a beautiful bay, or to linger in the depression of a windless day.
– Esinz
Dreamers
I would rather see people working than dreaming. And I would rather see people dreaming than killing. And I would rather take my struggles as I find them, than give up the fight
because I just did not have the heart to do what I thought was right.
And I would rather see the forest for the trees. And I’d rather open my ears to hear your pleas. And I would rather reconcile with all my enemies than give up the fight because
I just did not have the heart to do what I thought was right.
– Sinz
The Roach Garden
When I see a roach struggling on its back in my house, I pick it up and place it in my garden. What do you do?
– Esinz
Oblivions Empire
Hiding out within that incited circle of haze, of bitter truths, I cannot erase. The burgeoning bewilderment, the egalitarian equinox of ramble jack jargon, the apex of the aperture of excuse-ridden manifestos, the all-in-one ratchet slingers clawing at my spokes. Rain in a pothole or lake is of the same. The innocent are guilty. All bear the shame. And I wander, to search in vain, For the Equinox of Oblivion’s Empire.
– Sinz
Justification and Harmony
Ephemeral reticences in the embattled attempts at justification and harmony are personifications of true righteousness and the honest perception of good and evil.
– Esinz
Arrogance to Humility
Suffering is our salvation, helping us walk the road from arrogance to humility.
– Esinz
The Cloak and Dagger Poet
Heretofore, my country and my sword shall quell the headless bodies of the hypnotic, shallow, eschewers of the empire of jurisprudential larceny. Unapprehended, they fall unseen into the chasm of ill-gotten idolatry. Worship the flame! Dare I say!
Relinquish the hook of recursion and salutation. Despots all! Regale in fury’s insatiable appetite!
The feast of the caretaker is the porridge of the overseer. I take no part in the grandeur of milktoast, mealy mouth sermons of the unrestrained interlopers. To them, I rain my condolences.
The failure to exact is the fear to act.
I am not the coward that hides in wait. I am the cloak and dagger poet.
Where does the pen meet the blood? – Sinz
Where The Ink Meets The Blood
The mighty quill, with angular obsession, takes recourse in battle-scarred euphoria; the schism between mechanics and emotion, the flight of envy, the diplomat’s sword.
I say to speak, an ease of wit parleys my intent.
The message vanishes into the void of time’s dungeon.
But of parchment and pen, I cannot withdraw.
The die is cast, the words are just, the thoughts are indelible. The ink meets the blood and spills the burden of enlightenment. – Sinz
The Estuary of Insolence
In the estuary of insolence can be found the covetous nature of our reptilian ancestry. But let us not be disparaging of others.
Instead, let us be humble, dwelling within the grace of life given to all creatures, great and small.
– Esinz
The Sea
The sea is our friend and our enemy, as is the world.
Therefore, give peace and respect to the sea and the world, but be prepared when they nonchalantly rush upon you to destroy you. – Esinz
Earthly Perceptions
Swim to the shore of the river of earthly perceptions, then stand alone and stare at the stars. See the meaning of impassionate beauty and truth.
– Esinz
Da Capo
Sumerian visions of galaxies colliding unravel the beauty of our uncertain fates. Live in the day, not the week, or the month, or the year, or even in infinite time horizons. Live for each moment, especially in your worst nightmares, and say: “Da Capo!”
– Esinz
Transfixed in Fate
Intrepid lawyer, make your case!
I am the vagabond of silk-tie silhouette servitude. Renounce me!
The tabletop tennis player paid for the empty balcony room and jumped to his death.
I simply checked out at the office. There is a way to go about living.
The Prophet’s Son is in glorious form when I am transfixed in fate. – Sinz
Perceived Intervention
Perceived intervention circumvents the mechanization of my thought process by intersecting the projected trajectory of any concept I might induce my mind to accept as fact.
– Sinz
The Quest
But, alas, tis but the fluttering of a butterfly, these musings. The granite has its beginnings in the millennium’s past, as does my quest.
– Sinz
Alone
I am totally alone, but I love the beauty of a daisy in the spring blowing gently around in the anticipation of hot summer breezes.
– Esinz
Infinite Eternities
I see the realms of infinite eternities. Their only communality is the duality of their existence/non-existence. Embrace the meaning of duality, and you will see the evanescence of compassionate understanding and truth. Oneness then becomes our soul’s search for
righteousness and the persistent desire for good over evil and our never- ending hope for immortality.
– Esinz
Nocturn’s Remedy
I set my journey to be and laughed off merrily, into the mist of the fire’s halo, into the nocturn’s remedy, into the fist of the fortune tellers, the back pockets of the Sooth Sayers, the ricochet ramblings of hatch mouth underlings. That is the reality of mortality.
– Sinz
Aftermath
Mesmerizations of passing storms, the aftermath of introspective provocation.
– Sinz
The Heretic’s Bible
The Heretic’s Bible lays open on the little wooden desk in my slant roof shack. The circumvention of a man’s intentions by other than worldly means requires a certain ambivalence toward mortality’s shameless death grip.
– Sinz
Symbiotic Conceptions
The conditional nature of man is enveloped in the notion of good and evil; however, we are really driven and naturalized by our perception of the anatomy of real and unreal symbiotic conceptions of the singularity of hypothetical anticipations.
– Esinz
Obnoxious Resiliency
The list came out, and I was not on it.
The door opened, but entrance was refused.
The ship set sail, and I was left standing on the shore. What a tale of woe I could tell of lost opportunity.
But on faith, I walk tall; on fear, I crawl. I am not a soldier, nor a captain of enterprise. I solve no one’s dilemma. I am my reflection in the mirror.
I am satiated. I am resplendently overqualified in all things.
I am obnoxiously resilient. – Sinz
Paradox
The dreams of Sinz are the profundities of Esinz. – Esinz
Paradigm
The sins of Esinz are the essence of Sinz. – Sinz
Déjà Vu Mysteries
Be that man is soul to start, of nothing, given life, a spark in the gallows fire, of destiny sworn. A pillager of wrath, of upheaval scorned, a parallel of the Omnipotence’s virtue, a test of time’s interment. Why then cannot I see the value of compassion, and circumvent that which is only the rhetoric of baseless blame? God, Satan, or any name, is not the culprit’s entity? I look to the aftermath of millennia. The sole heir to the throne of iniquity lies in wait, a shadow, yet omnipresent. I want of all that a beggar’s kingdom inspires, yet I know of riches cast among the
aura of delusion, the thought of Deja Vu mysteries, and I seize the lion’s share of complicity’s enchantments.
– Sinz
Retrospective Enchantment
The sentence, a measure of worth, glistening, rhapsodic. That few words bled to parchment, to underscore a vision, to heal a wound, the writer’s provocateur to freedom, the parlance in retrospective enchantment.
– Sinz
Stand for Freedom
We are all Gods! Do not get on your knees. Stand for freedom, justice, and love of all creatures both big and small.
– Esinz
A Moment’s Breath
God raised his hand, and fallow man, and woman torn, and creatures of nightfall, born into heaven’s untimely gate, fallen angels, the iron of bedlam’s door, the path of pilgrims, the hereafter, became the light of dark dismay, and triumph, and the fortunes of cities, that stand in ruins, the just reward for, the exact of a moment’s breath.
– Sinz
Nocturnal Introspection
Ah, the cusp of morning’s halo envelops the intrepid sojourner as he makes his hasty plans, the sun yet to burst the clouds’ reticent gloom, a day of reckoning, I presume, nocturnal introspection, passed too soon.
– Sinz
Friendship
True love starts with friendship. What it blossoms into no one knows until you get there!
– Esinz
Ascot Warrior
Ascot warrior, vichyssoise terminator, valedictorian of the masses!
Honor to thine, and those of the earth’s wanting.
Would that the rasp of perdition be forged in the soul of man rather than to be handed down as cruel punishment for deeds of noxious ambiguity? To slander the barking dog is a resolution perhaps.
But to toy with the nature of beast and man is an outrageous game of cat and mouse played by manufactured babysitters of conciliation.
That which thrives is within. – Sinz
The Flag to Victory
Soon, to the rhapsody of incoherent sounds, I will renounce my insolence.
My plagiaristic opulence is attuned to the quick steps of fortunate ghosts, of hours ticked by in exclusionary delusion.
Interrogatory exclamations wane sorrow’s wicked oppression.
The flag to victory flies at half-mast. – Sinz
The Excalibur Inoculation
A resurgence of nocturnal inertia, that pitfall of synergistic balance, the Excalibur inoculation.
– Sinz
The Astronomy of Incubates
Chamber my heartfelt ambivalences in stocks of barley rye, the monsoon Emory Trail sun-setter’s railway fantasia foretells of not, and bones of rays from suns a glazed repeat my afterthoughts.
The astronomy of incubates, exposed salon estates, infatuated with the nomination of parlez-vous transients that shun the light,
repose in darkest doom. – Sinz
Broken Clay
If I were not made of clay, would prisms shadow me by day, and if I were not of dust, what would swirl in my midst,
and bring me joy, and complete me on the earth, and push me through the narrow trails and hopeless valleys?
And, if perchance, I could see through the mist for miles, to mystic sandy beaches, enticing my soul to wander, pulled by the current of destiny, would I deny the oceans?
Forsake the stars?
Or would I be of them, the same, yet broken? – Sinz
A Gallant Steed
A gallant steed does not bleed. He rears his head and grinds his teeth.
And never accepts defeat. – Sinz
The Purveyor of Lanterns
I am a purveyor of lanterns. I sell soft shoe romance, moonbeams, and love’s iridescence! The shadows hide in morose corners, nostalgic in their plea, awakened by mirth, redundantly absurd. Should one peruse my wares, there would be questions, to which I have no answers. I know not of galaxies. I know of translucent narrow hallways, shimmering black caves, echoes of madness. I am a purveyor of lanterns.
– Sinz
Rising Sun
Stand on the rising sun,
and you will see the glory of earth before your eyes! – Esinz
To Fly from Eden
The wings to fly from Eden are built on the furtive desire for freedom and knowledge.
– Esinz
Reverie Transpired
I assuaged the rounded archetype of cylindrical auspiceto circumvent this apostles’ creed, and, in shattered limbo, I transgressed the opinion lapping dogs, and reverie transpired.
– Sinz
Equinox
I get up, and the fish still fly by, smiling at my equinox, drying their wings,
in the heat, of summer’s retreat. – Sinz
Trespass
Sons of sailors, he ships of old,
trespass through my heart’s entangled crime, that of which guilt will find.
The truth is hidden.
That which I see is in a chosen time.
The mire is thick, with handsome rhymes, Now to be my earthly shrine.
– Sinz
Yesterday
I do not partake in yesterday. – Sinz
Sea Of Life
A man of steel sinks to the bottom in the sea of life. – Sinz
The Truth
After the rain, after the pain, after all is said and done,
the truth spills
from the mouths of heroes. – Sinz
Astronomy’s Dictates
Disengaged tropical plants, strewn about in chaotic fusion, sunlight filtered entropy,
static rhymed cohesive floor level steam.
An aura induced symposium of futile madness!
Furtive diligence relays the outcome of a force field held circumspect by astronomy’s dictates. Pray tell then, what is that which is known but the remnant of that which percolated unknown for millenniums?
– Sinz
Choices
Succumb to your own wisdom or search for truth? Those are your choices.
– Sinz
Whistle of a Passing Train
The hand of nature’s folly is not empty. The contentious idle in languishing defeat,
while the contemptuous push the enemies of reason to the side, and profess no king shall rule, no peasant shall pay homage.
For no man is the keeper of my fate. I am the whistle of a passing train.
– Sinz
Tomorrow
The crisp air, Take your share, If you dare, No one’s there, So, take care, Little one, In the sun,
The nicest of all, Till the jackals’ call, There is always tomorrow.
– Sinz
Souvenir
Sometimes I see her, In a past mist,
In somber thoughts,
Of cold wisps of winter’s edge.
Vicarious assumptions of cast-off casualties, At one time surreal,
Now to return in a fury, Amidst the halo of my indigent soul.
Like a souvenir.
– Sinz
The Cool Side
When the chips are down, The chipmunks get nervous.
But it’s never too late,
To particulate. Even fate can wait.
Get right, Don’t be uptight. Get a little dog, With a little bow tie.
And sip on the cool side.
You’ll be alright. – Sinz
Benignity
Everything is benign over time. – Sinz & Esinz
Leather Ponchos
The sonic question arises.
Does the earth tone hierarchy invest its time in melodious gatherings of flocks of gulls?
Or do those swarthy enough fellows bear leather ponchos in the seething metropolis?
Barren. Irradiant. – Sinz
The Snake Charmer’s Hideout
The collapse of intrigue,
The incarceration of Disheveled, Amorphous apparitions.
The banquet of iridescent proclivities, The face in the window, The door ajar,
To come in or leave, To enlighten or deceive.
The Snake Charmer’s Hideout. – Sinz
The Imposter
If I can relate, I cannot hate.
To establish my plea for mercy at the River’s End, Might I have that quality now?
But what do I bring to the chirping bird’s salutations?
An empty soul that waits in fear, Lonely, broken and turmoiled of despair?
It could rain forever,
But I cannot cry enough tears to fill the void of injustice that plagues a forest of gloom in a meadow’s whisper of tranquility.
I tread on the hallowed ground of nascent dreams.
How quick I fail to hear the rush of apathy as I encounter my life as The Imposter.
– Sinz
The Darkness
Night dwells over us with darkness,
which may cause us to fear our worst nightmares.
Instead, take the darkness and transform it into a broader perception of mercy and hope.
– Esinz
Reluctant Sooth Slayers
The soliloquies of mad men regale the honors of tangible enterprises often sought by egalitarian spit swappers that prefer to glow in the dark whilst hovering in ramshackle mansions of twigs and leaves.
While winds and rivers confirm the truth of matters not abridged, reluctant sooth slayers of saner temperament go without notice.
– Sinz
Rivers to Hell
Rivers to hell flow through beautiful landscapes.
Pathways to heaven are up mountains of pain and misfortune.
– Esinz
Sink to Desperation
Stand on righteousness, sink to desperation, and live!
– Esinz
Universal Harmony
Ring the sounds of condolences sung in empty apathy and you will hear the heartstrings of desperate searches for sympathetic empathy.
But touch the wheel of absurd uncertainty
and embrace it and you will see the infinite ways to universal harmony. – Esinz
A Purgatory Offense
Avoracious is a euphemistic word used in place of “Avaricious” which, used contextually, fortifies the idea of artistic license, in a literary sense.
That being said, the change in spelling does encrypt the Devil’s Backbone, that being an “o” replacing an “a” in a word ending in “ious”. The 16th-century monks of Perdue in southern France were the first to execute writers for this blasphemous tradition.
But, over time, as literary artists held to their cause,
many a Devil’s Backbone word did find its way into the common vernacular, and nowadays it is only considered a purgatory offense. – Sinz
Voraciously Await
I voraciously await that interregnum. – Sinz
The Gravedigger
Achieve that which is rich in the soul.
Discard the remnants of past dichotomies.
Eschew the foot tag loungers’ omen,
The checkered past derivative’s dictation of lackadaisical summation, That all is for naught.
The Sarcophagus bug crawls at my whim.
Another man’s folly I know not of. But my knowledge is tempered by fate.
I am directed.
I am the King’s jester.
Obey and live in surreal delectation.
Ensconce,
And the Gravedigger takes his gold. – Sinz
Unresolved Destiny
An uninitiated conundrum spoken by a savant is a parallel to an unresolved destiny.
– Esinz
Of Popeye and Sartre
Smartian Hempel tried and true, Purveyor of honey wax, to the county zoo,
Despondently accepts the bitter fruit, Of Popeye and Sartre’ quotes Alley Oop: “I am, therefore not, and that’s the truth”.
– Sinz
My Couch
I do not live here, But I work here,
And I would like to know that I am a participant in some shadowy residential way.
The longevity of my immersion in this vat of liquid is unknown to me, So, I tend to wonder, and the tasks
Go by the wayside.
I’ll accomplish something.
Or just remain on my couch until I figure it out. – Sinz
Thesis Entrancement
Thesis entrancement, the argument of decadence, and The arbitration of commitment.
If I believe the planets to be of solidity, Almost comatose in sovereignty,
Do I beckon the gloom of night to fancy their rhythm?
My search for fact is sublimely subdued by introspective doubt.
The pleasure of the question invites the ferociousness of the answer. – Sinz
Fisherman of Souls
I steer good tidings your way, Fisherman of souls.
That which you can, You must.
That which eludes, Rests in the spring of hope, The vestiture of time,
The bargain of resolve. For one man is of many, The suffering is of all,
As the weary night envelops a placated land of despots, Whose fall is but a paradigm for man’s amusing conjectures of faith.
– Sinz
Rubicone’s Necktie
Fall my citizens! Of the raptor’s incisors, and deadly claws, there is recourse in small intransigent doses!
The locks iron doors, the levees unsworn banks, tell the lies of commensurate underdogs fortunes.
The hierarchy of Triphoy, and Sophia’s lauded hyperbolic dissuasion of insouciant myths and admonishments to the faithless sub heroic dalliances of deluded argonauts dissuades my colleague’s vigor to fight.
Yet I pursue the vulgar dismays of treachery with fortitude!
To die the dog, to wretch the gut of iconoclastic rhetoric and infused lackluster syllogisms begs of me to align my perditions with the brass of Rubicon’s necktie.
– Sinz
The Champions Oracle
The embrace of the ages well-worn echo jargon is so tantalizing to the philosophy charged emulator of tactile reclassification,
in syrupy dogma albeit,
that I would care to think of less immediate triumphs of embryonic volleys with evidentiary statistical chess board dalliances concerning the chicken before the egg discourse, roundabout midnight, Aristotelian formal logic mantra, and rather, turn my enigmatic inertia toward the conquest of inverse insight i.e. Is God of Man, or Is Man of God?
The answer to which parleys the inscription: “Validation is manipulation for heresy, spoken disunity is justification for despotic resolve,
and the defeated is the Champions Oracle”. – Sinz
Vapidity
Is the insurrection of a soulless campaign to demonize the failings of those who struggle to survive merely a hyperbole of disoriented hate or rather the vapidity of unrequited desperation in the face of insatiable hopelessness? Perhaps it is both and more.
– Esinz
Unsung Martyrs
A subservient disposition is the essential benign character of both unsung martyrs and great kings.
– Esinz
Truth
Truth is an illusion.
However, its reality may be partially perceived from afar. – Esinz
Freedom
Freedom does not absolve us from responsibility; therefore, freedom must always be limited by our humanity.
– Esinz
Humility and Grace
Stand by your strongest wishes and hopes into eternity, and you may see them prevail.
But stand by righteousness with humility and grace,
and you will transcend all wishes and hopes and be at peace and harmony with the universe forever!
– Esinz
The Sea Gate
At the sea gate of oblivion lies the transformation of all absurdities and realities into both meaning and nothingness.
– Esinz
Multiple Universes
The rectilinear trajectory of the space/time continuum is an artifice of human perceptions of reality.
Even the warping nature of gravity is misperceived as a constant representation of actuality when infinite variations are considered in the tactile discernment of multiple universes.
See what is not there, rather than what is there.
– Esinz
Beginning of Wisdom
Does the imbroglio of a destiny confused by self-doubt result in the nullification of a soporific disposition?
No, it is the beginning of wisdom.
– Esinz
The Rain on Fallen Leaves
Near the Enclaves of Saffron, erudite matriculation abrogate solemn vows of conscious attrition. The Socratic bullwhip of times reluctant curators is a staunch resonator, in the context of insouciant
philosophical philandering…it is the rain on fallen leaves. – Sinz
Satirical Sacrifice
Demiurgic transitions to the normalcy of rain on fallen leaves is a satirical sacrifice of unbounded emulations of totalitarian disintegrations.
– Esinz
Annihilation
The resonance of good and evil plays in the harmony of universal desires for justice, acclaim, and annihilation.
– Esinz
Anarchy and Rhapsody
Inimitable preamble! Rebuke my subsequential histrionics! My foray into the tundra has usurped the empire’s reins.
The wrench of totalitarian tribunal onslaught is remorseful in the exact nature of a penny candy quartet. Listen to the surmised proletariat linguist! Per requiem that which falls doth stand in realms of cities charred. Both anarchy and rhapsody prevail!
– Sinz
Fungi on a Rock
Enter the world of fungi on a rock in a stream staring at the translucent sky, and you will see the justification of a life of hope and not despair.
– Esinz
The Thespian
Is it wonder, or the ages past declarations, that motivates men, torn from tyrant’s veins, to search the histrionic shuffleboard, intent on the suppositional caveat that all is erudite when cast shadow-like in bronze or painted on canvas to overhang the mantle. Thespian, throw me a line. Ask me how, in savior fair, in relic strewn denial of systemic lime tiara, tilt a wheel, time share divested emboli, does the pen pull blood from the page?
– Sinz
The Ultimate Sound
Can the sound of silence be a sound? Yes, it is the ultimate sound that defines the universe. Hear it and you will hear everything.
– Esinz
Either Way
Hurl your voice into the void of meaningless meanderings, and you will eventually find only the despair of self-contempt.
Go beyond words to actions, and you may experience the grace
and joy of a bird in flight or the utter denouement of humiliating failure
– either way, you will have lived.
– Esinz
The Task
Enlighten my trivial meanderings, kind sir.
To be involved, one must have a task. – Sinz
Awareness
Is your humility a portrayal of impotence, or is it the result of an awareness of the grandeur of the universe?
Be humble for the latter reason. – Esinz
Swarthy Perspective
Stand by the swarthy perspective and enter the world of sole opsin mutations. Be swarthy at your peril,
but enjoy it if you will. – Esinz
Favor
Favor the blustering wind with a smile, and you will live in harmony forever.
– Esinz
Tasty Leftovers
Leftovers are tasty – especially when they have a little mold on them.
Would Confucius have ever said that? – Esinz
Bittersweet Triumph
The denizen of repression exiles the opposition of recriminations. Take to the ramparts! To forestall the exigency is a bittersweet triumph.
– Sinz
Harmony
Be an Angel of mercy in your coldest and most agonizing dreams of death and destruction, and you will live forever in harmony and peace. – Esinz
The Leftovers
I am instant. I believe simultaneously in trajectory equitization and lower Broadway foo farm hypnosis.
Wrap up the leftovers.
– Sinz
The Venture Game
Pug Flookan and his disoriented mafia wannabe gang of nerd peels owe their slippery agenda to an earful of wax alliance with
a venture game show host named Ricardo Lewis.
He’s the guy that stole all those S and H green stamps in the 1960’s.
He’s the Three Ventures bong hut auto book binder dude.
Now, I could recompense my intangible retorts on philosophical germination by simply opening the curtain to these fine gentlemen. – Sinz
Sedated Fear
Sergum Sasquales examines his triangular toboggan triathlon episodes from 1946. A face-down hold-up at a record shop across the street leaves him heavily sedated with fear of impending doom.
Praeoculiseuentura. – Sinz
Infinity
Stand on the stage of emptiness, and you will breathe the soul of infinity.
– Esinz
Eternity
Beetlenee some squees is a forgotten character of a forgotten language of a forgotten people. If you want to know him, then forget who you are and succumb to eternity.
– Esinz
Broken Perspective
Through slither and slander, through alabaster grandeur, on swarthy invective, the requisite bystander leans to pick up the broken perspective
– and stumbles once again. – Sinz
Meaning and Revelations
Situations of uncertainty are fraught with dissolution and despair.
Yet, we must remain faithful to the infinite possibilities of redemption and experience new vistas of beauty and the conception of new worlds of meaning and revelation.
– Esinz
The Albatross
See the swirling sea and look beyond the albatross flying above your fears of dissolution and desperation.
– Esinz
The Stargazer
I claim the astronaut’s bucket, that sphere of despotic anarchy, whirly twirly chime in early, to the moon Alice, iridescent Sop with Camel ornament that sears the
stars’ sequestered ignominy and translucent morphia,
an amalgamation of triangulated Morse Code trickle-down theories of ceremonious pre-tertiary advances in ipso facto kinematics.
The utopian dream of sugar-topped mountains plagues my nervous ingest of protocol. Who be it, that it may be?
I revel in the nonsense of knowledge.
I am the arbitrator of egalitarian chimeric.
I am the Stargazer. – Sinz
The Paradox of Hurry: Time’s Unyielding Pause
Time waits only, For those in a hurry. – Sinz
The Cowboy’s Life
Along the birch treeline, Angling into the dusk, The whooping crane flies, In the narrow light,
Of the setting sun.
The season has changed, The leaves are gone, The forest is a ghost, The time has come,
To reconsider, To acknowledge, To know,
It is always worth the fight, That’s the Cowboy’s life.
– Sinz
Whispers of Time: The Eternal Dance of Waves and Shadows
Time slips under the waves, As they roll to the shore, The sands breathe the air, As the sun sinks,
In melancholy fury, The perilous survival,
The madness of retribution, The night of day,
‘Tis but a whisper to a child,
“Go play, dear one, it’s all gonna be just fine.” – Sinz
Sugarpine and Sycamore
Daddy told me all it takes, Is hard work, And a few good breaks. You live and learn,
From your mistakes. And Mama she was always kind, Broke her heart, When I said goodbye,
My world got bigger, Hers just got smaller.
And brother Paul he joined the ranks, Of the desperate boys the Army takes, Never made it back, From that crazy war. And sister, well, She had a real hard time,
But now she’s doing fine, Living just outside of San Antone.
And me, I go with the sun, Acting like I’m having fun, Betting on clear skies, Trying to cheat the rain.
Sugarpine and Sycamore, One light and a grocery store, ‘Bout a mile off the county road,
Maybe a little less, Maybe a little more. – Sinz
Faith in Paradox: Mankind’s Eternal Quest for Problems
Just to remain magnanimous toward all creatures of heaven and earth, let me say, without hesitation or affirmation, I have nothing but full faith that mankind will always find a problem to any solution.
– Sinz
The Transcendental Musing
Are we not simply the imagination of a rodent chasing a bug? The genius is in the conversion of status. Become the dirt and know the sky. – Sinz
Logic’s Labyrinth: The Complexity of Human Understanding
The morality of reason is the root of disunity.
Logic is not absolute. Interpretation of facts leads to the disruption of communication.
The Transitive Law of Equality states that if A = B, and B = C, then A = C.
The problem is, not everyone is thinking in logical terms. Emotion, education, motive, swarm around the facts.
God = Everything. Everything = Nothing.
Therefore, God = Nothing. Say that to a religious audience.
To be wrong is to be right.
To be right is good.
Therefore, to be wrong is good. Logical?
Yes. But not a great way to sway the masses without causing conflict.
This is the human condition.
If I don’t agree, I must have my head chopped off. If I have my head chopped off, I cannot disagree.
Therefore, if I don’t agree, I cannot disagree.
An old philosopher summed it up when he carved his thoughts on a cave wall: QuodErat Demonstrandum.
– Sinz/Esinz
I Didn’t See You
I saw myself,
In the reflection in
the pond by the woodside, Where we used to go, And sit under the stars.
And your kisses were my only thoughts and dreams, And heaven was oh so very far.
But I didn’t see you, Only the trees and the sunset, But I knew that you were near.
I felt your presence all around this place they call Heaven, And Heaven is a lonely town.
If I could have stayed, A moment or even longer,
By your side,
I would have given anything.
But the way it goes,
Things don’t always work out right, I’m in a place so far away from home.
No, I didn’t see you, Only the trees and the sunset. But I knew that you were near.
I felt your presence all around this place they call Heaven, And Heaven is a lonely town.
– Sinz
Perception’s Burden: The Gravedigger’s Quest for Value
Take that which is not, To be of what is.
The estimation of value, The pursuit of resolution,
In matters often dulled by perception, Is the gravedigger’s thankless job.
– Sinz
Percepectives Unveiled
The drifter sees the road,
The weary sees the traffic.
The gambler sees the cards,
The squanderer sees the pot.
Those of force fight the battle, The timid retreat.
And the search for comfort pushes the faith of man’s intent.
The uneasy conversation is my forte.
The desire to sleep on feathered cushions amuses me.
I lay on the rocky soil, Sleep is only moments, Life is death’s handicap,
The pleasantries of existence elude my senses. – Sinz
Beyond Sight
I can’t always see the filling in the pie.
Does that mean it’s not there?
I can’t see the letter in an envelope.
Does that mean there is no letter? Idiomatic logic is assumption based on previous experience. Watch out for that stuff.
– Sinz
Singular Truths
Actions and ambiguities are often the result of a singularity of scope in reason.
It is the age-old statement, “Everybody else says it’s the truth.” ”The book tells me it is the only way.”
I no longer believe what the masses conjure up.
I don’t follow a dogma written in blood. I live, think, and die in oblique conjecture.
I prefer to be one man that is right, while thousands are just dead wrong.
– Sinz
The Paradox of Perdition
Race to the end, and you will see the beginning of perdition.
Embrace it, and you have won; deny it, and you have lost.
– Esinz
Contradictions in Motion
The round, Is square,
When opened bare, The necessary,
Is trivial,
If no one cares,
And symbiotic reflections, Pale in the fury,
Of the intangible.
The bliss of summer’s auspice, A relegated osmosis,
One can touch,
With the hand of compassion,
Or destroy in futile coercion with doubt.
Love of wisdom, challenges that which is unknown,
I am resolved by the swing that sways on the porch.
I am absolved by the squeaking screen door, That closes,
Only if opened. – Sinz
Between Divinity & Deceit
I want none of perdition’s trappings.
Tenfold over,
I stand to serve the cause Wherein God lies,
And only Satan bears truth to the evidence of man’s disincarnation. – Sinz
The Paralysis of Fear
To an extent,
the passion of futility stays neutral in remorse,
yet speaks in the suffering of angels that refuse to fly
for fear of falling. – Sinz
The Dual Nature of Truth
When you are wrong, you can also be right.
This is the double entendre that is the reality of truth.
Time is the arbiter of success and failure. – Esinz
Parting Shadows
I bid farewell,
to all of those whose eyes are not shut.
There is no one left standing in my shadow.
This misshapen artifice of strife conjures the agreements retracted but severs no ties.
The banter, beneath the surface of smiles, tells only myself, goodbye.
– Sinz
The Kings of Ransomed Souls
The night consumes the day, The winter lies in wait.
The Kings of ransomed souls Are waiting at the gate.
Freedom is not the fight- Long is the road of cowards That look, but have no sight.
I am not free of this burden;
The hearts of men beat in turmoil. The beast is in me,
As the shepherd fields his flock.
The soldier stands at wait,
Till death pulls the trigger,
And justifies his fate.
– Sinz
The Artist’s Dismay and Delight
To be an artist, one must have an inner, gut-wrenching fear, all the while smiling with the face of a stranger.
Not a fear of death. Not a fear of life.
No, a plague-like disjunct that pulls the sky closer to the eyes, rather than searching the heavens in dismay.
– Sinz
Contrapum Interruptus
Contrapum interruptus veritus con falaguo seriptitous malignum toritus
– Esinz
Cookie Dough
Cookie dough eatum trans flora de la luce e cognignum bafalosous.
– Esinz
Strategic Retreat
If you can’t beat’em, aVoid’em.
– Esinz
@^^^*\
!?@?!6!&4??!!!?3*\~???^^\1
– Esinz
Flowers
Flowers of light and cognignum bafalosous Flowers of light and acquaintance fool around. – Sinz
Then they dance off a cliff into the joy of eternal darkness and pure perplextion.
– Esinz
1:1=5
If One to one is five to four in the annals of risk.
– Esinz
1:1
One to one is five to four in the annals of risk.
– Esinz
A Man Becomes
A man becomes consumed with life.
His existence is meteoric in passion and substance, A reckoning,
To be lifted by angels and bystanders on winter roads.
The trees of sorrow’s kisses, The terminal hallucination.
The hieroglyphic time bomb of exploding chaos, The receding storm, The relevant calm,
The streets of disparate souls, The elusive hourglass.
A man becomes the art, The passenger of arrogance,
The unstoppable monarch of delirium, The treasured outcast,
The furious soothsayer,
The mask of cowardly disenchantment.
The dog of disillusion.
A man disregards the heat of summer’s sarcasm, To be trusted with knowledge,
Tethered to the mast of a sinking ship, To be tried in fury’s abyss.
A man becomes his own enemy, Impaled on the sword of self- righteousness,
He believes his thoughts, Conceives his vision, But sees nothing.
Only the rust of ages.
A man reaches for heaven,
And falls on the earthen ground,
Gasping for one more moment.
Forgotten in the haze of the rivers and canyons.
A man is all of this.
But he is not, if he is,
A Friend of Jesus. – Sinz
Gurgling Razzamataz
Every day,
the planes take off, and land,
and take off again. The spiral rhythm.
The anticipation that one more hour is left in the old bird.
Take the folks to Thailand. Muscle Shoals is a fine getaway.
So I’m told.
The excitement wore off for me, and now, there’s just this
shiftless time spasm gurgling razzamataz, that barnacles my bones.
– Sinz
Razzmatazz
Joining the razzmatazz of destiny is a fruitless choice.
So eat an apple in the moment and enjoy it! – Esinz
When in Egypt, When in Peru
The crazier it gets,
The better I fit in my shoes.
The louder the talk, The cheaper the truth. The rain falls in Egypt, Just like it does in Peru.
And don’t feed the bears at at the zoo. – Sinz
Navigating the Duality
Tonality is the helm; bestiality is the oar. – Esinz
The Past Knows Me
I know only of the past.
The present and future linger in my thoughts, attuned to some cosmic principle of osmotic particulate.
Rejoice in speculation. Concur in articulation. – Sinz
The Slander of Thought
Of friends I have few, Of enemies I have none, In kingdoms of riches, Undaunted by calamity,
I am immersed in tranquility.
The sordid malevolence of dictatorship,
The analogous indignation of bullies that condone such disorders, Quivers the pen’s tongue.
The manuscript’s avarice is nomenclature for an erudite phrasemaker.
I don’t cry for the ones I’ve lost.
I don’t satiate my melancholy ways with slander, And make the ruin of all humanity my coat of arms.
Every child is a fire That burns to infinity. The slander of thought,
Begs the ruin of humanity.
To hush the vows of discontent, To feud in dreams of retaliation, Fuels the fire of animosity,
Until it burns the soul of society, And lays way to the desolate ambiguity,
Of narcissistic frivolities. – Sinz
The Paradox of Knowing
Know what you do not know. – Esinz
Bedlam’s Drift
Insisting that all is plain to see, Rejoicing in Bedlam’s autocracy, Far be it from me, to believe,
This broken, hopscotch, fiddle dee dee.
I’m just a fish, Out on the sea.
Translucent VoidThe void is translucent only when it is seen in its perspective opulence. If the series of conjectures, cognitions, and manifestations do not concur with the dogmatic relevance of the osmotic portal, it is simply allegorical rhetoric.
– Sinz
The Road that Finds Me
The long faces of angry men. The anxious stares of sullen children.
The amorphous retaliation between Heaven and Hell.
The state of being a shadow in a window.
The bookmark of society’s woes.
The hangman’s knot. The guilty exposed.
The world exacts a heavy toll, On the brandishers of swords,
Yet the rain falls heavily on peaceful souls.
I take not the road I seek.
Rather,
I travel the road that finds me.
– Sinz
The Rust of Ages
A man becomes consumed with life.
His existence is meteoric in passion and substance, A reckoning,
To be lifted by angels and bystanders on winter roads.
The trees of sorrow’s kisses, The terminal hallucination.
The hieroglyphic time bomb of exploding chaos, The receding storm,
The relevant calm,
The streets of disparate souls, The elusive hourglass.
A man becomes the art, The passenger of arrogance,
The unstoppable monarch of delirium, The treasured outcast,
The furious soothsayer,
The mask of cowardly disenchantment.
The dog of disillusion.
A man disregards the heat of summer’s sarcasm, To be trusted with knowledge,
To be tethered to the mast of a sinking ship, To be tried in fury’s abyss.
A man becomes his own enemy, Impaled on the sword of self-righteousness,
He believes his thoughts, Conceives his vision, But sees nothing.
Only the rust of ages.
A man reaches for heaven, And falls on the earthen ground, Gasping for one more moment.
Forgotten in the haze of the rivers and canyons. – Sinz
The Crumbling City
I built a city, Then I tore it down, I built a mansion,
And burned it to the ground, I built highways to the stars, And never traveled them.
I built my life, On greed and envy,
And invested in happenstance.
Lovers yearn, Sellers hawk their wares, Winners take their shares, Believing that seasons turn.
But brick and mortar crumble, And the row of artisans of faith,
Becomes a battlefield of odd derivatives of chance suppositions. – Sinz
Unmasking God
I seek to find.
I travel to endure.
I measure my moments.
The absurdity of logic transcends reason and time. It is an excuse for mankind’s disassembly of reality.
To tear away the exoskeleton of thought.
To extrapolate theorems.
To poeticize the ramifications of existence and unmask God. – Sinz
Mighty Ships
It makes no difference What others say,
Their words are nothing but broken clay. But we are mighty ships, of wood and steel. And when the night takes the day away,
We rest assured, Come what may
We will sleep and dream, Without dismay.
–Sinz
The Guy Next Door
Indifference is a conduit to chaos. Insolvency is a portal to wealth. Alacrity is a measure of resolve.
The test of time respects all creatures.
No one gets a perfect score—except for the guy next door. – Sinz
The Right Attire
Undoubtedly, all of the redundant filibustering is now milktoast and marmalade, made in the shade fiddle
dee dee. I’ll have a latte and liberate my congestion by blowing my nose on my sleeve. – Sinz
Eternal Loop
The end is the beginning and the beginning is the end. – Esinz
Unity in Contrast
It’s always amazing to me how different and the same everything is in the world!
– Esinz
Dust to Dust
A brick is a brick.
But smash it, and it is gravel. The gravel wears to dust.
A man erodes the same way.
Smashed, he will become vapid flesh.
Soon the flesh will dissolve into the earth’s terrain.
All is what never became. – Sinz
The Abyss of Freedom
In the beginning, there was the end.
The brothers of the moon, Protagonist hearsayers,
The meandering thoughts of gallant thinkers.
The discussions arose as a consequence of lapsed time.
One saw in the other that which he saw in himself. Succinct madness is the outcome of all collaborations.
The ship puts to dock,
Only to sink in the abyss of freedom and recompense, Foreshadowed by sanctuary’s sarcasm.
We know little of the pathological sway of dysfunction in this discourse. Grand ideas of sincerity and remonstrance are weak salutary comments on hearsay evidence.
One can calculate the obscurity of an encounter. Another can ventilate freely of the grand scheme.
Words are for imposters. Thought is mundane.
Expression is the combination of these.
The reader sees or flees at the mercy of a whim. – Sinz
Thirteen Sentences
The teacher sat, chalk in hand,
as the children recited ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’ Summer’s facade of miracles,
and the entrenchment of time’s crawl. How many rhymes flicker? She calls out thirteen sentences.
Alone in the woods, I rest. – Sinz
Break Even
Tomorrow’s prospects appear unfavorable, mirroring today’s events.
Persistent thoughts inquire why circumstances unfolded in this manner.
However, reflecting on past misery,
it is apparent that I am better off. Acknowledging this is challenging. Consequently, I will cut my losses, acknowledging the price I pay. Although victory is uncertain,
I will break even. – Sinz
Dead Noise
Venture forth, traversing the heart of madness.
Exhume all trepidation, retaliate with egalitarian trespass, and renovate all departed awareness.Mortality’s shackles confine the tempest, delaying the metamorphic infusion of contextual
inconsequence.
Dismiss these thoughts, and hoist the sails.
Interest my beleaguered sight, and coerce my ear,
to hear nothing, but dead noise. – Sinz
Tony’s Tasty Tragedy
Knucklehead Tony ingested French fries and bologna, accompanied by castor oil.
Sodapop Sony perceived the situation as humorous.
– Sinz
A Dog with Two Tales
A dog with two tales, One of woe,
One of optimism. Relinquishing the ruin,
Rescinding the value of arcane wisdom, The coat of glory,
The bones of solitude, The eyes of Satan’s folly, The tracks of treachery,
The mad dash towards the abyss, From the treeline to the highway, The sullen portal of fate,
Resolves the dilemma, The question is moot, The answer is intangible, The hypocrisy of time,
Sees neither good nor bad, Right nor wrong,
A dog with two tales, One of woe,
One of optimism.
– Sinz
Butterfly Time
Time is like a butterfly, Only softer.
It eases the stark realities.
It cushions the fall. The quick remorse. The sudden fate,
The crackling of the fire, Demote my breath’s words, to promises.
– Sinz
Salvation’s Solitude
God bless you, brother, And keep you in His reach,
The hand that stretches outward, Brings the only peace,
And subsequently, Far too soon,
Salvation lingers in a lonely room. Adversity makes me stronger, Time will only tell,
Because the mighty River of Jordan, Is deep,
And cold as a mining well.
– Sinz
Clay of Dreams
That cities of dreams are built upon. – Sinz
The Anarchy of Resolution
In the confluence of indemnity and gratitude can be found the swirling
resolution of peaceful and productive anarchy. – Esinz
Knees to the Stars
Stand on the water, but fall on your knees to the stars!
– Esinz
Far Enough to Fail
Run down the trail
Till you’re far enough to fail, Then walk and talk And don’t balk.
– Esinz
Horse Trough Wisdom
Best wash off in the horse trough, Than be left standing in the pig sty. – Sinz
Edge of Triumph
Slap the razor on the hide, Till it shines sharp and bright, Prepare oneself for victory, Over the oddsmakers ridicule, And reach to the mountains, Leaving the valleys behind.
– Sinz
What’s for Dessert?
Riptide undercurrent.
Fool’s gold, Some would say.
Open at the other end.
Upside down, Again,
He who wins, Acquiesces to the monarchy,
He that rebels, Disturbs the sidewalk cafe’rs,
What’s for desert?
– Sinz
Monkey See, Tiger Falls
Monkey and a tiger, Up in a tree,
Tiger gonna get that monkey, Tiger gotta eat,
Survival of the fittest, Yet,
The meek shall inherit the earth. Monkey jump to another tree, Tiger jump too,
But Tiger miss the limb, And falls to the ground.
Monkey see, Monkey do. – Sinz
The Lion’s Focal Range
It would bequeath one To never doubt That a man has a vision,
Or possibly,
Just an altered state of being.
Nonetheless, Adept reasoning Quells the languorous Shadow of wisdom.
At a distance,
A lion is beautiful.
Up close,
It can be treacherous. Choose the focal range
That avoids unnecessary scrutiny of facts. – Sinz
Chasing Redemption, Stirring Tomorrow
I never knew a poet, Nor an actor.
But I knew a singer, That was a dead ringer, For a day dreamer,
Everyday is a chance to redeem one’s self for yesterday’s misgivings.
Every yesterday is a day that no longer exists, Therefore, my chance at redemption does not exist.
So why not move along, And see what other trouble, Can be stirred up tomorrow? – Sinz
Edge of Victory
Is that sublime, or are you just trying to rhyme with a bit of lime? – Esinz
Dogma in the Galaxy’s Shadow
The enclave of asymmetrical ambivalence leans in envy of tumultuous adoration. The widening sphere of dogmatic renunciation catapults the hierarchy, yet tills not the soil.
The beckoners of reason foretell the sad import.
The stage is a rampart, a galaxy of confluence, in a madman’s triathlon.
Go to, and hear the resonance of deflection.
Seize the tenuous bounty of insomnia’s stranglehold until life’s battle is of not, but never forgive the truest of liars; thyself.
– Sinz
Believers of the Night
The dog’s tail wags in earnest,
for the cast-off bones from the table of life.
He thinks not of powerful enterprises or vainglorious victories over enemies. The iniquities of grandeur’s illusions are fractured anecdotes of time.
The sun rises on the blackened forest of man.
It sets in the vacant eyes of the wanderers of the night for they are the true believers.
– Sinz
The Paradox of Struggle
The Agonist
The retaliatorian of victory’s loss. Circumventing calamity’s casualties. The struggle for insight’s proclivity.
Hyper-extended, non-acquiescence to filtered philosophy.
Find ye the gentleman whose watch is broken and ask the time of day.
Choose the soldier with no sword, and send him to war.
Take the road that leads nowhere and arrive at your destination.
Devolve to resolve.
– Sinz
Clay and Cosmos
The If I were not made of clay Would prisms shadow me by day?
And if I were not of dust, What would swirl in my midst, And bring me joy,
Complete me on the earth,
And push me through narrow trails and hopeless valleys?
And, if perchance,
I could see through the mist for miles, To mystic sandy beaches, Enticing my soul to wander,
Pulled by the current of destiny, Would I deny the oceans?
Forsake the stars?
Or would I be of them— The same,
Yet broken? – Sinz
Salutary Osmosis
Twisted images of salutary osmosis.
The pit swallows the anxious do-gooders
as they remonstrate the duality of rash hypothesis and circumferential manifestations.
– Sinz
Ambiguous Wonders
Forgo the uncanted wiles of misperceived peculiar orientations and embrace the ambiguity of infinite personifications of destitution, resiliency, attainment, and wonder.
– Esinz
Of Course
Forgo Does a tree grow in a forest? Of course.
Does a forest grow in a tree? Of course.
– Esinz
Fervent Silence
Twisted I sit alone, Inside my head, The light is on, The world is dead,
The fervent thoughts, The walls of time, Of nothing said, Remind me all,
Is but instead, The pierce of arrows, The knives of blood,
The thirst for vengeance. The tragedy of peace, Is the hate for love.
Yet the stranglehold,
Is not the fault of men, The grasp of hope, The mind of sin, The reckoning,
The sabotage, The caving in,
Does not implore my will.
It is the assumption, The implication, The verification, The humiliation,
The rampant disillusion, That begs the question, What would Jesus do?
– Sinz
The Chaos of Harmony
I want to be, A tree,
At the end of a road.
I want to sail, In the sun,
And cry in the rain I want to be,
Lost,
And not strive to be found.
I want to be, All,
Of nothing. I want to be, Anything,
But who I am not.
I want to be, The stairs,
That lead to the basement.
I want to be, The adversary,
That has no vengeance.
I want to be, The friend,
That has only enemies.
I want to be, In the chaos, Of harmony. – Sinz
Aesthetic Ashes
The purification of perfection is the dissolution of aesthetics.
– Esinz, Presinz, Insinz, and Nonsinz
An Insurgence of Empathy
Fortuitous being,
Soul of tempestuous resolve, Never caught in slumbers halo,
Always guided by the shiver of fear. Has he the estuary of insight, That lesser men hail for,
In the caverns of their all too sure, Moments of victory.
The truth is guilded in the blood,
Of centurys of disguised fractures of diligence, Where a second glance,
Might have curtailed, A sea of terror.
It is doubt, That mesmerizing, Inimical thought,
That sways the judgement, To consideration of effect. An enemy of injustice, Not a weakness,
But rather, A strength,
An insurgence of empathy. – Sinz
Fortune’s Acquiescence
Transfixed by hologram dictators, Eroded decorum,
Vested consolidators, With empty hand shake wallets,
That mill the rank and file, To fine steel knives, Often heeled,
But the swagger of discontent, Fears the fracture,
Of fortune’s acquiescence. –Sinz
The Back and Forth of Never and Forever
The dusk of romance, That seedless flower,
Of a cherished moment, The back and forth, Of never and forever, The subtle joust,
Of whispers that foretell, The folly of innocence, The quiet of resolve, Forever’s end.
The dusk of romance. – Sinz
The Truth of Two Lies
Trespass immortality, The requested endowment, Of satiated retribution,
Is inclement cohesion, To meander,
Through the juxtaposition, Of inert perplexity,
To elevate the soulless condition, Leaving only,
The duality of mesmerized irony, The truth of two lies.
– Sinz
Concur
Let the record show, That I have been, Assuaged to concur.
– Sinz
At the Foothills
I have lived many lives,
I have traveled many miles,
The tortuous sun, The inundating rain, The beloved grace,
The irrevocable sadness, The tyranny of injustice, Only to die,
At the foothills, Of madness.
– Sinz
Foothills of Madness
The foothills of madness Are the grace of god.
Lose your mind to the sovereignty of purpose
And you will find the absurdity of Existence.
– Esinz
Nature’s Whim
Ephemeral light, Beheaded by night, The nocturnal bliss, Presents the hysteria, Of raging seas,
The sand of an oceans moral decay, Satiated in terror,
Till dawn, Then quieted,
By the arbitrary benevolence, Of nature’s whims.
– Sinz
Autocratic Dissolution
Satiated arrogance, Recriminated obsolescence, Asphyxiated hieroglyphs, Intangible autocratic dissolution,
The Rembrandt of dialectic composure, Erased letterheads,
Lined pockets of empty salutations, Conjectures of noblesse Obligations to stalwart dignitaries,
The rage to pain logic of aristocratic empowerment,
The children of requiem’s endowment. – Sinz
The State of Being
The state of being rests in the mind’s conception of what was, what is, or what is going to be.
Explanations, retaliations, and manipulations are rhetorical time capsules.
The manner of systems is meant to be misinterpreted, thereby causing friction
which in turn produces the energy that is life’s progenitor.
– Sinz
About the cover art
Title: The Square Red Head Warrior Medium: Acrylic on Canvas Dimensions: 2” x 1’6”
The striking cover art featured on this book, The Square Red Head Warrior, was created by Paul Martin — a visual artist, writer, inventor, investor, and retired U.S. Navy Reserve
commander living in San Antonio, Texas.
As a Surface Warfare Officer (SWO), Paul’s military service included eight years in Naval Special Warfare and a two-year tour as a U.S. Navy Reserve SEAL Team commanding officer. He began painting while in college and held his first exhibition in New York City in 1985. Over the decades, his creative journey has taken him around the world and across mediums.
Paul’s work embraces a “psychic automatistic” approach — beginning with an open mind and allowing the art to unfold intuitively. Today, his artistic explorations focus on bold abstract expressions of the universe, which he calls MultiColored Universes.
What started as large-scale paintings has expanded into multidimensional forms — from three-dimensional sculptures to wearable art like
pocket squares and bow ties derived from his original works. A lifelong learner and lover of creativity, Paul’s pursuits have spanned military service, portfolio management, medical invention, filmmaking, political candidacy, and co-authoring a book with his brother.
To explore more of Paul Martin’s art, visit www.artbypaulmartin.com.