Sinz + Esinz

Wrap Up the Leftovers

I am instant. I believe simultaneously in trajectory equinization and lower Broadway foo farm hypnosis.  Wrap up the leftovers. – Sinz

Leftovers

Leftovers are tasty – especially when they have a little mold on them. – Esinz Would Confucius have ever said that? – Esinz

Time’s Reluctant Curators

Near the Enclaves of Saphron,  erudite metricularies abrogate solemn vows of conscious attrition . The Sophocratic bullwhip of time’s reluctant curators is a staunch resonator, in the context of insouciant philosophical philandering……it is the rain on fallen leaves.- Sinz

Beginning of Wisdom

Does the imbroglio of a destiny confused by self doubt result in the nullification of a sophorectic disposition. No, it is the beginning of wisdom. Esinz

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, and the fall from grace, takes its course. – Sinz But, as […]

Sublime Recompense

But, as the fall from grace takes its course, so does the opportunity for sublime recompense actuate in the tortured souls of heroes struggling to reach the realms of hope and justice. – Esinz

Seamless Seance

Such shivers still silently seeping into the sanguinarium, slowing sinking further. A seamless seance stretching beyond the sarcophagus of solitude!- Sinz 

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 can hold my tongue in the heat of confrontation, and let the wind howl through […]

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

The Last Is But My First

Substance, reemerging, incalculable recognance, 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, […]