Results of my study

I have reread the study in preparation for the upcoming posts (Happy early birthday!). Always a good read and time well spent. 

Amongst the important information presented, it will be interesting to hear if you extracted more data while researching the historical implications of animals in the Serengeti?  I am not unfamiliar with that area and will take notice if the topic is addressed again, at some later date.   

Mellow Dust


The Tide Churns The Power Last Of The Sea
Feel Its Movement On Doth Cliffs
Slate Glass Upon The Salty Shore
Love Lost
Upon A Glazed Sea
Chime Goes The Rye
Lost In The Sea Of Time
Mellow Is The Table
Rest Upon The Dust

Another Five There Shall Be

Stone Try The Plank Of Plants

Soft does the wind hath blow
Beneath the bow hath not to flow
The strong of the plow
Feel the courage of the glare
A plant is but a passion
Dare not its moves its love of far
Hear not the pale echo 
Into the yonder night if tows


The Plant

Man To Grass

A Man
Youth Yonder The Thought Of Last
Less Not The Dawn Of The Age
The Dust Of Time Upon The Glass Of Trust
Bursh Does The Clock Strike Five
Hurled Upon The Dusted Shelf
On A Journey With No Past
Live Life As A Blade Of Grass
Past Is True

House

Warm through
Hearth of the wood
Stowed under the shelf
Iron stove of vigor
Crest the dawn less the night
Grow upon the last ace of cinder
O let
Let it be

Son Of The Sextant


It is with no pleasure that I have decided to review the construction and the use of the Octant.  As the brood of the Sextant, this device lends its hand to the disturbing incarceration of knowledge that is the fortitude of the undoing truths.  In the coming months I will speak to it again.


Brothers, I have written a Ballad to honor its passing

Oh the land
Has liberated the sky
Oh the ground
Has liberated the Night
Oh the grass is green
Oh the Sea is blue
Oh the ships have come
Oh the men have won
Oh the land is free to be won

Historically accurate is the cave paintings in France.

Lascaux is painted with the deep shade of an Avalon Apple
Its luster of moon on a black canvas of night
The Green is as warm as a fertile glade
Brown bull strewn as a competitor ready to ram Altamira

The great masters of the past, known now by their accurate homage of days gone past.  As observers in a sea of trust we are to give our all to its safe.

As truth is know to those who have not known we must kneel to the beat of an ever distant drum.  Pulsating of the past, we must hear its tonal echo. 

Sung its last word
Lived its last breath
Strewn through the caves is the pressing passion of art past
Recognition is given not with the coin but with the heart of an ever gaining love.

Love

Love the air you breath
Love the sea you see
Love you brother and your friend
Love your life and feel free to express your cares
Love is all what you make it

Sonnet of a Grandure

Dark is the night for it hath no end
Is it not known how the southern winds blow
Trees upon the top of an everlasting clash
Sail through the trees as elementary stowage
For mother and country claimed the soldier
For past and present aimed the idea
Fortune claimed hath not know to justice
Fortunes ruthless

Strong willed
Iron back
Placing honor above the heart
Ridgid is the grand plank
Sea strong
Hard as ice

Indeed, living in the current system that we do in which ideas are stacked upon dogmatic thoughts is disturbing.  Whole avenues of research has never been attempted or looked upon due to our steady belief in a system where the very fabric of its design is as weak as its largest thread. 


We burn the academic fires building a stack of ideas from the matchsticks that lay upon its kindle foundation. 

Is it possible that we have overlooked an part of science that has never been attempted or thought?

Brother bullhorn, I have enjoyed reading your writings here since my return. I do look forward to your continued posts. Please know that your efforts are appreciated.

I too find Brother bullhorn's posts illuminating and thought-provoking. I often contemplate his poetry and prose when preparing for my oneiric voyages.

Indeed, I must resume the work I have hath done. The Moon Beckons with the swift hash of the midnight hand.

Understanding the fortunes of a man less had not

Flow hath does the stream of life
Flow upon the shuttered branch of solace
Unkempt
Undesired
Strewn upon the garbage of life
Rest upon the stench of a past idea
The life but lay on a question
For hath does it move
For where will it flow
If not but on a bed
Of Question

Dath the night hath growut longer. Just but thrust the seas of
Discourse upon the southern ship.

Shall not the valve of definition crank the shale of
A mans grasp?

Brother bullhorn, for a fortnight leading up to your newest post I could sense your mood of contemplation. I could only hope that upon my return an addition nulli secundus would once be again be shared with us all. Great job my friend, Great job.     

Dath the night hath growut longer. Just but thrust the seas of
Discourse upon the southern ship.

Shall not the valve of definition crank the shale of
A mans grasp?

This is beautiful. I can imagine myself and Brother James, exchanging wisdom upon such a voyage. And yourself, Brother Bullhorn, at the figurative helm.

Passion Invoked

Replay the cause of the past men
Voyage upon the shale flow of a stream
The hull of a damned ship toward the sham of academia
Trees in a Glade of Thought

The ship has been Christened
The deck has been swabbed
The Ocean is ready, the ice water mansion
shall wait the fall of factual academia

Caleuche The Mythological Similarity


The ancient peoples of the coast hath what history may refer to
as the white silk linen of a forgotten ship.  Caleuche, a ship sailed for
less not the grand part of the mind.  Mythology dictates that the convergence of
Lethe, Eridanos, the grand Alpheus. Formed the passage of the coin of travel unlike that of the ferryman that coin is sent.

The comparison of these academic routines are in correlation with full lecture of the past facts upon the desk of study under the grand fortunes of the institution.

To believe in an institution is the direct lunge of the coin placed to the River Styx

I remain, steady on my stone throne, pondering the just knot of thought
Dath the night hast past the southern fought
Waters of thought flow to the pain lost of no thought
Hath not he proclaim under the forestall of mind.

To understand the workings of the textures
The Pulse of the northern gaze
Moor not the loch of the bay
Hardy, Husky
Vile and Pale
Passion sweat of the feral lines

It is in steady thought we find our stream

  Nature of Knowledge


      For what we know has not been true in the past and
history dictates that it will be inaccurate in the future.

This has occurred through fruitless endeavours of activities past.

An early example of a failure is physicians of past era.
These academic sloths once held the notion of Miasmatic Disease transmittion.
That is to say that one can contract an illness based on air that has become rancid.
The holders of this verminhord are the same heretics that fail histories most basic test.

That test is less not about the knowledge of now but by the knowledge that what is known is not.

The Boot of an Unknown Cleat

Journey yonder does the cleat
To the beat of a southern heat
Worn to the bone, torn from the morn
Years past less not to know
The way the young one grows
Journey has not yonder
Upon a stone I ponder

Failure of the Senses


Beyond the vale of the world senses can not know. 
With all true facts lay the untrue.
Strong is the will of the mind.
Belief is of knowing falsehood of the truth. 
To nurture the false belief in a world that has been unknown. 

To understand convolution of thought is to know that the senses can be fooled.  Examples abound as to why they can not be trusted.  One must only look to his own eyes and see the failure. 

Examples abound but are not needed. 

One must only trust my guidance as you read the study before you.

The Fall Of The Oil Lamp


I had decided that we must look further into the issue of modern practices of failed design

I will be further studying this issues posted this several years ago and will now look into it further.

   It is, with grand concern that I talk of an issue that has been troubling me over the past few months, it is, most important that the reason for this come fourth and we look to the future in out questioning.  The great philosophers of the past centuries have had one thing in common.  They have used in their studies
Oil Lamps. 

   When I speak of Lamps, I do not speak of the battery or electric wall powered lamps. I speak of lamps that have brought the greatest discoveries and have nurtured the great scientists and readers of the past thousand upon thousands of years.  The greatest minds of out past have lived under these beautiful sculptures.  It is with the disgust of modern technology, that we as a people have produced no philosopher or mind with any great stature.

   What we have are but the broth of the birth. We have young that are growing up, not under that of an oil lamp, but under the first pulse of electric lighting, students and studiers are not under the tutelage or Oil. But under the glow of a electric vermin. 

   Life was simple before the time of the processors.  My office is sparse, empty, but true to the passions of the past.  True to the life of the old.  I hold myself to the standard of the past men and teachers of the art of knowing.

         Not to discourage the ponders from the wanders but it has come to my attention that under the tutelage of the forefathers of example a distrust in anything not in line with regimented ideas. 

         Humanity has had an awful record when dealing with those whose ideas differ from the mainstream.  Those who had not heed the warnings of the society were left to the bowels of its deep.

         Such was the fate of Antoine Lavoisier, contributor to the creation of the Metric System.  In summary, executed for his furthering of science.  His passion for knowledge butted the proverbial head against that of society.  In doing so sealed his fate with the guillotine.

          Those who question the status quo are exiled and placed upon a trough less not for the spread of knowledge.  History has shown that all ideas are valid and those who question those who ask are as guilty as those in the past.

With trust in truth one hath understand the forays of the past

The Boot of an Unknown Cleat

Journey yonder does the cleat
To the beat of a southern heat
Worn to the bone, torn from the morn
Years past less not to know
The way the young one grows
Journey has not yonder
Upon a stone I ponder

I found this truly compelling. Thank you, Brother bullhorn.

Brother Wilmore, thank you.

Caleuche The Mythological Similarity


The ancient peoples of the coast hath what history may refer to
as the white silk linen of a forgotten ship.  Caleuche, a ship sailed for
less not the grand part of the mind.  Mythology dictates that the convergence of
Lethe, Eridanos, the grand Alpheus. Formed the passage of the coin of travel unlike that of the ferryman that coin is sent.

The comparison of these academic routines are in correlation with full lecture of the past facts upon the desk of study under the grand fortunes of the institution.

To believe in an institution is the direct lunge of the coin placed to the River Styx

Bother bullhorn, it is spendid to see the continuation of your study.  How we do learn from this and the other recent posts. Your insight and knowledge is so appreciated...and needed.