Hidden Facets

There are many personas contained within each individual’s name which reveal themselves through, of all things, anagrams. Uncovering these hidden personas is an old pastime of mine. I now present to you the anagrams of Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.  Feel free to interpret these as you wish…


  • doldrum pant
  • mud rod plant
  • odd rum plant
  • darn lump dot
  • torn dad lump
  • add torn lump
  • plum odd rant
  • lump and trod
  • odd lamp runt
  • mad porn lout
  • odd palm turn
  • torn lamp dud
  • damn plod rut
  • mad runt plod
  • darn mud plot
  • lard ton dump
  • land dump rot
  • old rant dump
  • dolt ran dump
  • rump and dolt
  • dump lord ant
  • lord damp nut
  • old damp runt
  • darn dump lot
  • darn dolt ump
  • dump lord tan
  • pot drum land
  • mud land port
  • odd lump rant
  • dun mold part
  • dun tarp mold
  • dun mold trap
  • dun malt drop
  • dun old tramp
  • dun dram plot
  • palm trod dun
  • lynch a trillion
  • nor a chilly lint
  • archly loin lint
  • i lynch oral lint
  • horny lilac lint
  • lint i call horny
  • lit crony in hall
  • an ill crony hilt
  • alt crony in hill
  • richly anon till
  • charity inn loll
  • trill in halcyon
  • chilly loin rant
  • no thrill in lacy
  • ill thorn in clay
  • holy rill cat inn
  • a rich nylon lilt
  • lint on rich ally
  • lay rich toll inn
  • all rich yon lint
  • rally on nil itch
  • i only rant chill
  • only a trill inch
  • ninth coil rally
  • con inlay thrill
  • i can roll thinly
  • ill lynch ration
  • loin lynch trail
  • i lynch in a troll
  • lynch all in riot
  • nil to lynch lair
  • lot in lynch lair
  • ill tinny choral
  • thy ill carol inn
  • thy ill thorny clan
  • hilly clan intro
  • i thrill clan yon

Sacred Trivialities

we ride
this boundless wave

from crest
to crash
in chaos
crushing shrieks
and drowning cries

echoes
in the undertow

through waters
of an unknown quest

sinuating circumstances
tend this surface tension
tenuously

as each action
scatters sentences
in capillary sequences
of curious inconsequence

where quantum rifts
soon shift to cosmic

drifting upon caustic wake

it is in that squallish whisper
when the hands of fate uplift us

sifting through our sins

in graceless cringing
and grimaced chagrin

gravity turns inverse

severing us
from our sanctimonious symbols
and sacred trivialities

we once revered
with fierce resolve
our lives revolved
provincially
with every round

all soon found
to have been
profundity’s antithesis

arriving at the genesis
of cyclical rebound

reborn and disavowed
in distant visions
of the now

To LIVE

To LIVE

is to have

the TRUTH
of one’s individual
PERSONAL
experience

perpetually

INVALIDATED

by the WORLD

around you

with special

EMPHASIS

on those
who ARE poised

to KNOW

YOU best

Pavlovian Lapdogs

petulant plebians pandering prose
spawned out of spite from depictions composed
of pithless and petty ploys poised to appease
a princess of poisonous pedantry peeved
with patrons plucked patiently tempered by pique
their person purloined spurred by spurious speech
supinely complying peremptorily
pliable pupils impaired by erred pleas
obsequious as pavlovian lapdogs
a precedent of appalling demagogue
imparting dispatch surreptitiously reaped
to pose such a perfect impression oblique
to passively present through public dispose
promotion of disreputable depose
to please their despot’s pathetic importunes
perilous plots born of perceived impugn
sparing none, for all are prone as her pawns
through solipsist eyes of contempt and despond

Let Your Soul Flow

 


Some dude I once knew told me it was imperative that I should convey the message that he loves every one of you and that he understands that each one of us is a human being each with our own infinite array of cosmically complex experiences that are not to be judged by any person, including oneself. Life is but an ever-changing series of briefly nuanced eras. Each one with its own uniquely distinct energy signature that we experience in vibrational frequencies existing only within that moment. Cherish these feelings, for the only time we may ever again be able to taste such moments is in the ethereal realm of our dreamscapes in the hypnagogic aftermath of a soporific sentience.

In spite of life’s discord and dissonance that might leave you feeling otherwise, the fact is you are loved and appreciated. We needn’t the crutch of frail words which might fail us. Our presence is one of effusive fluorescing that reaches the farthest filaments of reality.  it is impossible for any matter, be it living, non-living, corporeal, or non-corporeal to traverse this cryptic chaos without the interchange of energy on a scale most prolific.  Our actions, regardless of their magnitude, affect countless things.  Though one might have not yet been privy to such truths, the fact is that their essence is known, loved, and appreciated by potentially infinite instances of consciousness that span a contiguous flow.

The nature of existence is the ebb and flow of all things leading into balance. It is necessary for us to disengage at times so that we may grow and learn independently of others. The journey of understanding is one composed of many companions but the processing of its components can only take place within ourselves. Please take care not to mistreat yourself, nor others. We are here solely by infinitely random chance. These forms which we inhabit are frail and susceptible to all forces including those which we are unable to see or comprehend. Every second of our reality is unique unto itself, yet, is also synced to the eternal singularity of space and time.

Let us revel in the vibrations of loving energy that inhabit this realm of sempiternity. And let us not be swayed by the happenstance of this physical plane that seems so rife with unfathomable anguish and despair. Our cognizance is born of perceptual context. We cannot know beauty without knowing its suffering.  Vortical balancing is the eternal state of all things. We must allow for this truth lest we create an internal imbalance leading to the exacerbation of our own existential entropy.

Energy must be allowed to flow through all dimensions in its natural state of fluidity. When any form thereof is left to stagnate, it will manifest in toxic and harmful ways. Let it flow through you as is was meant to. Give and receive love freely but never attempt to harvest nor harbor it. Allow yourself the freedom of this cosmic coalescence. Love is the force that connects all things. This is why I can truly say that I love you and why you can know this to be true.


Let the universe flow through your soul as your soul flows through the universe.

<3 Max

Favored Detachment

maudlin voices
masquerade
through the night

burning
the ends
of an erstwhile
affliction

fumbling
like infants
with fervent fixation

lamenting
days spent
in a garrulous haste

to dust
turns the water
from bottles
of air

as spirits deplete
without fear
of redemption

tears
of sweet agony
gather in basins

fermenting
‘neath faceless
tombs
rapt in depart

As Sure As Flesh Weeps Crimson

i awoke
today.

sodden with the somber dew
felled by gross iniquity.

women, men
both elder and youth.

strangers, friends
both able-bodied and ailing.

human beings.
with goodness
of heart
and keenness
of mind.

their very freedom
infringed upon
in this “land of the free”.

for fear had stricken
fulgurant
and butterflies took to wing.

trepidation
wrested the weary.
their minds
folding inward
’til ingress gave way.

and here it is
we stand.
on the precipice
of definitive salvation.

if we are to evolve,
it is only
through love

that we should breach
the heavens.

as sure as flesh
weeps crimson,
no other fate
shall see us
through.

Cloak of Fear

fear
conforms
like a secondary
skin
of vitreous flesh

enshrouding
huddled masses

in layers
of fragile
impenetrability

like a renegade
chrysalis

invading
with masochistic
avail

inviting
every failure

to impale
verity’s parables

with
pithy
regale

Hollow Home

the distant
droning

of undulate
whirring

persisting

shifting
into hours

the lonesome
shrill
of a room
filled with faces

whose failure
to listen

eclipses quietus

quashed

beneath the anguish
of this bedlam
mind

what darkness
familiar
yet follows

unfurling

the fears
of forgotten
infernos

unduly writhing

beneath twilight
reflections

Revolution

in spite
of mountains
of might

air
bears no impression

for years
we watched

lying rigid
in piqued
anticipation

every time we looked
away
the day had since fallen

even still

do we burn
holes in the ceiling

retraversing every misstep