Parables-Christ You think truth is not something to be found—and collected like in a rain—that’s constant but changes in colors

and vibes-- You thought this faith is not unshakable by the lies—but you brought 2000 years of every whisper in the wind—and I’ve attached eternity by its rouse—do you still feel we don’t protect and support our own—like the wells to the cries--

Parables-Mary (Khoemoun) I told her spirits—the Sirius—that if you are cornered into a wall—for as long as I’ve been by Abes—you start ornamenting the emptiness—to ward off the evil—and to content yourself—with any other wealth—but it doesn’t mean affection is formed by fear—and if the corner looks too good— and bright to your house—its not the ornaments always—it’s the wave of the seer--

Parables-Dalaal Love of god has no boundaries—no limits—it doesn’t come out of anyone’s ass—it’s from the top of your head—it rises and its absorbed in heaven— love of god has no broker—no Jew can bring it—no Gentile destroy it—love of god is simple—it has no

crest nor crown—no ward—no guard--only shelter--

Parables-Nuptials Its always a nine—six (Pams)-Eve’s-or FoursThere are some things very familiar about each of them—like smiles—or gestures-worn before—they ride the gold--back to the beginning of time—and all points in between—to the end (here)—out of each foursquare—stars are born—and they multiply by themselves—I must lean forward often--run and hope—in their rains— I only know the ones I like best—they each have to appear in frozen intervals—to holy sacraments—for that life--by a dress--

Parables-know If I didn’t know and love these women and people —I wouldn’t move a finger in their favor and direction at all—and had I not cleansed, absolved— redeemed--forgiven everyone and myself—why

would I not love them by far—and so its true with you—as it is with us—by owners of heart--

ParablesYou’re traveling fast and looming large eighth—it makes people unhappy with their charge—which is Neither with women nor preoccupied with the fate of the states--

Parables-Wayward I said no Newton has to die—at the equivalent age of 50 here—in 26th-century, while married to the woman of his dreams—because of another senseless urge for symmetry—its like selling your house— because the traffic lights must change their rhythm at the peak—eighth means that I choose the clocks by my will---first its 4000 years before ables can marry our names—two- and endurance is vital to me-

Parables-Secret world Some of these spirits think—their world’s reach— secrets—are annihilated by these truth—which shows how enlightenment is not easy—to all extensions of light and soul—but they climb the

ladder higher each day—that I’ve known—and reality is less—a fraud everyday-- a violation of what light and the inner peace understands and comforts-- hold-A little closer to what exists—is better for hope-Parables-Linda I told Linda along the way—it must be terrible to be so envied—and envy others so much—she said its my feet—Abels complain relentlessly of Jews—the other abes—whose strings are attached to them from the beginning—what can I do—she says--I disapprove of her resignation—the tragedies of their stories—I believe you should be out teaching the truth like gospels—as you’ve known me--

Parables-Weight Every other day—there’s some kind of hazard in the air—this mass of no’s—Jews—Abes—she says— its so you can create—I have—but its like navigating through mine fields in both space—and on earth—each time I get to the heart of a problem

—something else pops in-like a death trap—like a large window to the caves--

Parables-Woman I said that woman is so enticing—I feel the pangs of love—no lone man should know—and if she ever comes by me—send your doves—so I can pave the roads—with our own feathers—back home--

Parables-Na-mardha You know what they will say—I told the highest doors—for centuries to come—they’ll claim some of those Na-mardha were your own—and they wouldn’t be wrong—because when the pigs ran down the hill—and drowned—the replacements had to behave like them—and unto this day—they carry some of those features within them—but they have none of us—and they pretend to be by God’s—but they hang out by my feet—and they’re like girls—

Parables-15 Days The holy spirit had gated them out for nearly 40 years—these Cain replacements—but he opened it one day —and it was horrid—they were covered in

waste, and wanted to eat it off the floors--and they were the most sinful, deranged people in the world —and I had to consciously cleanse them—and set their ways—to humanity again—they were so far gone—and the only sin I ever committed in my life was theirs--

Parables-Unavoidable I thought of saying—how do you put so many pedophiles and Nazis behind me—everyday is a new thing with them—but I knew they’ll say by every door in heaven—Abes and Pam’s children— that’s why--

Parables-Cops We went out after this exchange—and there was a police car—Abes unrest—by the coffee shop, there were pedophiles and lesbians in red—it was tainted in this way—undercover policemen almost everywhere—its like everyone knows you—half want to make love—and half shoot—we ate by the

site of a Asian couple—unsafe—she listened to my thoughts and said Buddha—my name--

Parables-The Halves One says there are too many of them on the ground —she should know—half of her is honey—the other is them—she means there are too many lesbians—and telepaths a photograph of one of the —a dipper— but she, herself- looks great for the first time in perhaps 20 years—why do you look so great now—Its for the love of a man—she doesn’t know her answers are made up—by her head— hooshang---

Parables-Eshghe She said they are in love —because of Eshghe—the one you like and admire —but I’ve loved her for a long time—how is it, they just feel it now—she said

its because of the energy in them has gone up—tell them eshghe, will be here—long after the season and your heart’s have changed—the source of all love is us—and that its always straight as heaven— and that light possesses her—God’s--

Parables-Stardust She channels it outside where the gold is sitting—its been a star—either a house of women or men—its never clear or matters—women alone have the right to be near him—she has to be loved or acceptable— to sit on it for Christ’s sake--she barely is the second this time around-- and calls him Gharibeh-her house is made of small ones—they linger to listen—while playing an old tune by his favorites— the Amen--

Parables-Bedlam He says we’re both—ignorantly—short—I told him there’s no such thing left—she sits over matter— and that’s P’am—but those strings are for a little

girl—and a woman—and that’s not who you are— the doors about hell lay low--but you can’t interfere with her individuality—thereabouts she’s more sovereign than you are--

Parables-Ezekiel He says your coffee is made wrong again by men or Jews—I told him there’s only water and fruits for me—and you might as well say the stable horses got together with the cains-- along these points— there are only acts—and for the taking of the bad seeds—anything that comes down on me here— must leave there—I know they’ve seen and felt the judgments—they sleep with their children—and wives encourage, and copy them—So, this is for the other side of Israel—Ezekiel’s left--

Parables-Thieves The Iranian said when they don’t know you—they interpret their own way—I said you know what misinterpretation is—when a born and a converted

thing both claim the same—one supports the other and they believe they’re safe—but first I’m not you nor them—two—they all—each of everyone knows my name--

Parables-Celibate The man wants to know why I’m celibate—I told him—except for the girls in the skies—who are non-material, and our owns—and are for the creation of stars—your homes—celibacy is--when you can’t find anyone who compares to your last love--and mines were Mary’s—Pamela—and Pam’s--

Parables-Asian On the way to the store—I greeted this Asian couple—and he said—I feel so old—I told him—If I was crucified—means the black holes: open— when my food and drink is poisoned by your thoughts—you will be tired first—the second time

is a heartache—and the third—there’s no coming back but as stones and dirt around my haste’s--

Parables-Vaziram She said they want war--and it was the voice of one of the Pam’s—she meant the Japanese and the rest of the canes--but I heard the spirit of the renegades from inside—he said--no wars—after my own--and I told her, you see how is done—first we rouse the horses—they enter me for revenge—and become like myself—and we have less worries left—you and I--but we both knew who had to lead them— I’m the shepherd of wars—as well--

Parables-She On the way back—there was this Hispanic couple in a car—and she was beautiful—and I looked at her —with surprise—and the husband came out of the

car and said—make it straight—like he desired her like myself--most now—and it felt right--

Parables-Low doors What brazen little guys these are—low doors—like little women—I told them—they should have two options and that’s all—one is to jump in the pool with P’am—and paint their toes red—two is to become like home--saviors and gentlemen--

Parables-Celebrity At the low doors office—there are magazines spread—and the woman in the elevator wants to ask if these are my dead warriors—no actually-- they’re not dead—they’re spirits in the material world— they have bodies without whom—they be lost forever—moreover—most represent circling stars— that I put up—and without complete submission to these words—they shall not even be allowed-- to stand---amongst them--

Parables-Two The Cain said-- get a job—this after 80 songs— hundreds of drawings—4000 pages of poetry and insight-- knowledge for the very betterment of their lives in forever—after 200,000,000 acts that create

the universes and all the stars and planets—after saving P’am—the very devil—and out of their filthy jaws--I showed him-- if we stack 10,000 of his legs on top of one another—they shall never reach the lowest standards of honor—set by God names--ours--


I don’t know what Oasis she was hanging by— where from—but she opened her eyes—and I knew it was their nine—four—because she looked on the steps below and moaned—and next morning the Abes were out looking content and well-formed— and it wasn’t so much that--but that we felt so better about them for the lights she’d poured--

Parables-West side Coming back from the doctors office—It occurred to me—they’re a bit arrogant and absent—in the ghettos its obvious that almost everything is about to change—they’re not blind—but these wealthy Cain’s and Jews—act surprised, and pretend things

will be the same—which is opposite to reality and belief—and they say this is your mother, that’s your father—they care how handsome and attractive she is—but its their faithfulness and straightness that we want--

Parables-Sound I said these people mustn’t be very bright or sound of mind—every few months someone wishes—God be Gay—when our way is straight for eternity— Same as Pam—and Mary and Abel—and those are my wives—the others are my mothers and sisters— and loves’ objects—every one of them—and those stars above have been created by us, in them—and his wife is waiting upon him—nine, four—and more—the health of those around you-- depend on his being as true to himself—as you will be to yourself someday--

Parables-Low doors Trust is everything—even ranks and files of my enemy will ask you—do you have the trusts of the lord to be with us—and he or she is right—anyone

who argues against you will win—if your strings aren’t held decidedly by the wins--

Parables-Numbers game They’re always wanting for the children first—the Abes—and ask us to Cain for them—but for every child you abuse, rape—and murder--asked—the Messiah takes—10000 of by you rein—meaning the harness of your thoughts lay by the sins—taking the eternity—and health-- out of you--by that weight--


He said they’re envy of yourself too—at times—I told him, envy is like a dog barking on the way to school—and that God protects those who are subjects of envy as he’s been—and should covetous not cut a path through their own hearts—and should they not be subjected to all its scars—it shouldn’t be so—it is— All I know—we’re holy—come—be holy with us--

Parables-Sister bad news She comes with her advice—that one—the weight of the dippers—I said you’re like an old woman— blind and haggard who comes by and says— I have a crystal ball—and know what it was—and how it will be—do you want me to read it--but I tell you again—I am young and ten feet tall—and don’t need your crystal ball—and don’t see its done you much good either—go home and let god take things in his own hands--

Parables-Men The man sounds a gun behind me—almost—it says they’re gay—I tell them, I only want happy people —straight—I want doors—not these peepholes, that watch the humanity as it waits—half them must be straight as well as gay—this inverted happiness is not our way--period—the nines must be celibate or with doors alone—I make the rules for the other homes as well—the three of them are straight and forward as myself—they want it that way—their free wills are included—by their strengths--

Parables-Reds (1) We’re short—she says and looks up to the skies— like she knows how to reflect—it’s the dipper woman who is often covered in waste—the one who hammers like a nail—behind Pamela--as we try to save her—I said if anything is tampered with in that old short style—your soul shall be born in the beleaguered way again--for 10,000 more years—

Parables-Nay Everywhere we go someone’s always standing by the side of a hole—with ghosted chemicals you can’t see—its only 21st-century—and a bucket full of waste colors and scents in their hands—begging

to be noticed and ceased—meaning—every movement upon here by them—is for the narrowing of their horizons—and don’t keeps--

Parables-Septarishis She says cowards—by the food stand—and later mops the floors, and says-- we clean up our own mess—their men drink a lot—and go for wrestling one another—and camp out of this place—watching every move we make—I think she needs new shoes—as I leave—make the sign of cross with my arms--and wonder how she’s so beautiful on some dates--

Parables-Sevens When the men they hold up in front of the line—get drunk all the time, and their heads are stuck up each

others backs—it leaves them with no honor—or dignity--and their women marry them just to be with each other—equally in sin—stained yellow-—they are not here with us for either peace or war —I’m never anywhere—anytime-- to rescue or save them –from their flaws--

Parables-Loopholes I haven’t had one silent cup of coffee or toast in ages—everything buzzes with noise of potions and poisons—and its being the 21-st-century—without the proper sciences yet—it makes one very dependent on the doors—only they can see what secretly comes and goes—and for very reasons— they’re widely insufficient--

Parables-Two Shepherds If I ask you jump in the river will you do it—she said they won’t—-to them God sounds foreign— like an alien—what if my enemy says jump—but my enemy is none—and your ways have been too sinful and wrong—and the jumping in, you have already done-from healthy or infirm beds—because all your those wrong shepherds have my names—

Parables-Mojdeh I asked her—what if a person attacks an old woman —who had been her own most avid support and protector—what should her punishment be—she ought to do penance by helping other children and mothers—and what if that woman was her own and Gods mother—the repentance must be by his own words then—and so it is—that you must work for those who are weak—and un-abled for 1000’s of years—or your soul will suffer—indefinitely--for your wrongs—

Parables-Hives These are like beehives—except the queen bee—or king—sits by the door (heaven)—and its legs are these jobs—short and long—and they’re athletes and politicians—and work the back seams of words forever—they are 5 (Mary), Six and Four—and Nines are the same—but just like heaven—they’re dutiful and fave (beloveds)-

Parables-Reflect There is much grace in the world—and not only you’re unaware of it—it doesn’t cover your

mistakes—and what if your deeds towards others reflect that absence—what if you’re born again to that toll—of hate—I say to you again—don’t come near-- unless you have gifts of love--on your slate— graced--

Parables-Reds-2 Your influence on the whole is too negative and short—you nag and complain like children—and you mustn’t be hanging out by the low doors who have so little of heaven—and too much of hell— I’ve washed you out of my names for 800 years except Ellie—because those Moslems are already without rain and insane—and need my name—

Parables-Wrongs She’d show nine women--her legs spread across my world—and say: Kharab—after almost every one of

their names—and they’d resemble Pamela— resemble Abes—mostly indistinguishable from ourselves—like they’d been lost or abandoned somehow—as though identity was something that they abhorred—and were so short of—and I told her what she’d known before—that houses of nine and ten are as holy—and my owns—and governed by hokms—that are irreversible—and hold for eternity —and that as long was one woman existed anywhere that was not either celibate or with doors alone—right or wrong—none could ever come by our home--

Parables-Us and Them I thought their love—which came off our verves and scents—didn’t last but a few days or weeks at

best—for these men and their Pams—have put a transitory, inelegant twist on what we’ve invented —by the grace of Mary and Nines—by the will of God—And by the first circles of heaven—who bequeath it into eternity—by words and songs--

Parables-Lows I told her—you don’t know how these low flyers are—from appetite for waste on the floor—to pissing on people—their cold sordid look upon women—and whistling for young innocent men— they have no scruples—they feel needed because of the psychopathology in the people—justified in

their existence—I shall not accept you—when they careen by you into my world—your standing near them—is an affront to dignity—and your hopes--

Parables-Both He says I’m both—and he’s unclean in both deeds and mind—I told him—I know you’re imposed upon her—P’am-- like a burden—but she has her own men now--more dignified and noble—and heaven doesn’t have worms by its doors either—so go figure what you are—because I already know-

Parables-News of the world

Khersak from the corner of sky cried—I’m Linda— with lament and mournfulness—she meant all the food from left is sitting on her- P’am—and they’re wrong—her feet are big now—the legs not so long-I said you see those treetops across the way—see how green they’ve become—and the clouds over them bright and white as snow—and the minarets with three crosses on them—it all means this too will pass—and how everything shall be right againby the grace, and will of God—someday—Mom--


There hasn’t been a day hardly—that you could buy peanuts on these streets without it being laced with something ungodly—and inhuman—it’s the swan song of so many abes—who have no way back home—and these other gays—inverted women and men-Canes—who stand amongst them—old--fitting waves of discontent—eternally soundless—in abysmal rivers--

Parables-Out of Times And I told them this about their awareness and mindfulness out of time—that it was so much like driving on one wheel rather than four—that however they tried to rationalize their reduced sensibility—they were always at a loss—to my owns keenness—that was above all—in comprehension and loves’ motives--hope—and how I took no pride in their shortcomings--

Parables-Creeps It’s the vaziram—they’re way below by the strings that connect P’am—to the remnants of the hell’s replacements—the Nazis—the devils olds grounds

—and they lust after the men in her—and her women respond to the call in their sounds—like favored—and I tell you—to know the dippers—or their star faces—you must read the source—and the news isn’t so warm or nice—as perceived even by God--

Parables-Be I went to her abode—the same beloved—she looked too gaunt—for dearth of money—and there was so much noise about her head—that I wondered out loud—but we bought a little food—and spend an hour picking something we together liked—and her spirits went up so—she was exhausted and went to sleep—on the bus--way back home—I thought—I could have started the whole day by saying—I shall move mountains today-with a sigh—that’s how smallest acts of love-- become—when you are the beloveds--lights-

Parables-See If you don’t know what love is—go and see for yourself—any ones who is stronger than you, and not as meek—anyone weaker than yourself who is not great to be—(they’re in your need)-and all those alike you—shall be on same streets—guarded by loves—every deed--

Parables-Two She said—there are two types of calls and deeds that come to—and through hell—one—is to Cain, rape, bekosh, and wars—the second—is to take out

those who ask for the first repeatedly—ad hoc--your men and women are on the two—no apologies--jobs —and that’s always been your will—I thought— she’s knows so well-our heart--

Parables-The Departed I thought what’s wrong with these people—they throw everything—at us—man and woman--as I roam almost everywhere with them--though I’m already come and gone—the wars are won--the holes are laid in deeps—with the non-returns--and it occurred to me, they were like horrendously raised children—they soil everything—as they leave— standing at the banks of these great living rivers--

Parables-Hojabra She asks who are these Hojabra—that you and Amen talk about—I said you know how you want to clean the depths of wells, of every kind of vermin and rat—sometimes its best to lower a snake into the pits—when only they can smell the scents of trespassers best—and can clear the coming waters —for the arrival of real women and men--


I saved your soul-by every conceivable act and deed —relentless—by lure of love and goodwill—and I know how you love those mirrors—but without two —you be sitting in front of mirror—looking at blood—and I know how you love those mirrors— but nothing in the world compares to the beauty of tis truth--

Parables-No’Se She says Mardom—I thought who is this Mardom —where do you meet them—she thinks-- you see them on television—meet them on the streets—I said—I don’t have a television—when I go out no one’ on the road—she thought—do you mean ignorance is bless—I said when you’re the only point of reference in the world—you decide what does or doesn’t exist—and the people you’re talking about—either were—or aren’t—for keeps— Same as love—if it doesn’t repeat itself—across times—it’s either an accident—or never was--

Parables-No-estrellas Her strings are on abes—Jews and Iranians—and she was reporting on them—their state of affairs—

and she sounded like he’d become masculine—Nar — She said they still want to kiss their infants and children---and I saw their women turning their head away and down in shame—and felt they weren’t attractive—and knew—and we both sensed why they sex their infants and children—its because the children feel no ugliness—and have no will against it—because their own innocence’s were lost--and why the book of life is so bereft of their names--

Parables-Holes The two Asian women say they are Zana—before they pour the coffee by their waist—the abes men lament—they’re poshte—well, everybody is that way here—but the holes don’t haven men and women—or preferences written on them—they take you for your sins—based upon my judgments—and deeds—in quantum moves—that are already left--

Parables-Confirm Amen are on my left—the tallest in heaven—are supported by the depth in Abel women and men—

Vaziram are on my right—lower—by the maters most (Hell’s bent space)—but are closest to heavensI am seven, eight, nine—and ten—eighth is now (Allah)--where the power—is forced—I create the universes-

Parables-Ezekiel (Right) Sometimes I have to walk for miles-to get the simplest food accommodations—a small piece of bread—ounces of coffee—the less is always makes the best sense and choices—and people are always very caring and respectful—but today as I leave the store that’s almost furthest—a well dressed black woman—walks by to go in—and is startled by my appearances—and I asked what was she so frightened of—and with such hubris that stands out —she said—your coffee was made into poshte—by their demands--and she’d disappear in—for the asking--


She says—the little neighbors girl—that they are congregating down below—at nights with malintent--for the Messiah’s our name--she’s nine—my favorites—I said the names are always secondary to only--one aim—that the weighty in sin—must come down by my always—and disappear for the way— that their keeping has meant—for all of my time— abuse and rape—so let them come—let them be swallowed whole—in parts—by the weight--

Parables-Abes Listening to her—reading these thoughts-is like planting a seed—and watching her cut it at the stem—and taking away all its vitality and height —in return—but the worst of it—is you find her staring at its remains—making plans for her future-which is a lot like pitching a perfect round ball at someone—and hearing it dropped—bent, skewed, and misshapen--

Parables-Gordon This Gordon guy—says—you’re right about--not playing your guitar here—there are bunch of

suicidal mommies—and these Hussein’s who follow you everywhere and are crippled—and every once in a while they charge at your door---with midgets amongst them—and they all end up at the other side which is black holes and big bang— I thought but the devil who sings for me—is only a young woman now—who doesn’t know--and she’s not well taken care of—while all these abes running around taking advantage of her innocence--

Parables-Love Bebeen—love is loving her amidst you—and your neighbor—it means you can feel—all love resembles gods and mary’s—love is loving her as you sister—as our mother—as vulnerable as impregnable—and never bunch of little girls, can identify themselves as her keepers—its not love if you sit in our rain—and whimper—I’ve seen more resilient compassionate love on faces of little children--


Why is she not out of that home—that can be of horrors—and I live free—she said its because you’re the Messiah—if I’m the Messiah—she’s my best friend—if she’s the Devil—I’m her best friend —I’m with her—she’s with me—for eternityShe’s guarded now—bv short stocky women and men—who have had almost no training in humanness—if she’s isn’t moved by the power of our will—I’ll have you—for 10,000 years— surrounded by thieves--

Parables-Womanhood She’s eternally Mary’s daughter—and mine—my sister and my mom—and loves, upon every four corner of my empire—and the womanhood on them —is striking—by its simple ness and senses of elegance—that they shall be envy of the world—is the envious’ woes—but fruition of—our hopes--


And you shake the tree—and it shakes you—but you do it—to raise the dead—save the best—and open the floodgates for the bad seeds—and they turn on you—like the devils in the rain—but by the grace of your will—and the faith of the rest—you raise the bar for deeds—and by the time the holes are filled—the whisper in the wind is like an alarm —and the abels cry out—that they will repent and redeem—some will—like always—some won’t— but by the sixth decade of your life—the message is shining a bright—that the Messiah return—is being complete--

Parables-Book Small events finish themselves too—like a book— we’re about to read—and trees that must fall— everything around you is for a reason—around anyone it is—but around god—its for only one reason—to deed—and she says they’re tearful—the abes women—she knows enough to tell them—if I have to roll billion amber bricks up and down the hills—I will---and have—until the cleansing of their names is complete--


Up here on nine and ten—there are only large foursquares—I am by them in light and verve—by shadow—by faith—as it gets to the low doors—the squares are tinier—they’re more efficient with the details—when they’re close- I can sense the connection in between—daily elements—and their — Counterparts in collecting dates-Their sound is different—but their frequency— caves in—to the height of dreams—in keeping— with the senses of purpose—in my way--

Parables-Latitudes She says we’d been jealous—I hadn’t been—its my love—my faith-but said—I’m not Gandhi—they’re us--Amen—they each serve different nations— certain themes—and always for the calling of our names—no one walks into a temple –run by corrupt Jews, protected by violent Romans—turns every table over--for the keeping of peace—in his seems--


I thought -that I’m sorry but by the grace of god— I’ve been given the chances to watch beauty and likableness—on the faces of so many alive—living presents—that added to the authenticity of every one of my own experiences—feelings—I have one path to go on—ten directions to lead—and they are all unwavering my way--

Parables-Abel’s The sun hast to set on them—I’ve found them unworthy-of parenthood to my names and Pam’s— and inelegant—unacceptable for marriage to god’s names—Haram—we’ve watched them—day after night wrapped in dishonor, and waste—espousing violence and rape--—I’m raising new bodies and spirits—out of them—separate—invulnerable-sovereign--


What about these people from whom comes these assaulting, invading waves—these man and women —what happens to their bodies—once their column —has been slept on—derailed by so much jobs— works—and disfigurement to the innocent—their very souls have to pay—by their weight of hate— for their envy—measures for every measure—by shortened greenness’s—by increased bereavement —for callousness—and strain upon others--

Parables-Draught Its ironic and justified—that should you rain on people—bludgeoning them—with disrespect and abuse—in intent—that by the very nature of your pour—they bring awareness to their senses—of your wrongs—and eliminate you—from their— good faith—and dues--

Parables-The World I know

What if your best friend—comes and explains the world to you—its laws and order—and how its very fervor of chaos is too meant—to serve its wealth—what if you went and complained of his news—and the stories that expect you to excel, lest you harm the ways of his and his children—what if you Went to his wife—the soul mate—and loved ones— what if you lamented and wailed—and asked for reprisals—harms be done to theirs—and if I tell that your soul and body are made of bars of his light— and each time you wail—he takes one bar-light of being--from under your wings—and there are infinite ways to fall then—what would say to these truth—again—and again--

Parables-The Heat (Zarthusht) I left early—to meet with her—the wave of the abels (Narran) was noticeable—the men looked heavy—leaden—they’d been smiling at one another for days—women seemed smaller than I remember —and it was uncomfortable for us—I waited at Pico downstairs—she was late—but radiant—thinly—it felt like the first time we’d met—we went shopping —ate—stopped by the Amen—who’d been waiting without the rain—we gave him some food—he said —two has come by—and I said—the ghost in me is near—on the way back—the women after so long— were beautiful and noticeable again—I knew—the left’s had been pressed by who—and Paamm (Maadeh)—I knew the khorsheed was out—for the first time-- and why the Persians call her a lady— my faith-Acts-2,6

Parables-Heart The apple of my eyes—the heart of my soul—the reason for my living—are people—who carry the weight of the world—paamm-

Parables-V3 For every ten people around here—there is one vendor—by vectors—connected to four corners of the world—he says—if you see heaven—put up a parking lot--she says--Paa sho—he plants—those are the Japanese—I tell you what it all means—God gives you feet—and air to breathe—tools to use and language for your feel and needs—and if you nay— if you break the covenant of stay—there are finite places for you to fit—for the holding of the infinity in--

Parables-Cane (Hell)

I am thinking—on the way back from feeding and supporting—look at them in hell—he’s one of her own—in fact just like a little girl—and doesn’t even come to her rescue—for one he’s afraid—two—his legs are dishonorable—and say—hold hand with the boys instead—and isn’t a wonder—that heaven is every woman and man’s salvation, and escape— doesn’t it surprise you—that without my strings— there be neither light amongst them—nor helms--

Parables-Cains A man who says he is jealous of god—is a woman or man who is not even equal to himself—who has no crops—no yields or harvest--a mechanic maybe envious of another—a doctor amongst his own-A painter of one more--But when there’s only God (not alone)—how can you call for envy—if you can’t peek into his harbor--

Parables-One Perfection is the property of only one person—and alone—still—I think--Jee my life’s a funny thing— but how do I know all those gospels are perfectly true—with scanty remembrances—its their soul that is present, eternal—and undying—in everyone of our names—to go to hell—time after time—to save p’am—despite its denizens—despite—its belligerent—gases--

Parables-Cowards You should know these universal diagrams— configurations are amazing—and how descriptions, like adjectives fall into them—like numbers and verse—and the word that describes these men on steroids—these half girls—that surround her--by their very aroma and behavior—is called cowardice —for their example of hanging on helpless women —in deviousness--

Parables-Asras I’ve listened to his thoughts—heard the tones of abhor in their voices—its detriments with her large bundles of un-hope—we don’t have them by my house—I’m not their lives—not are they allowed near my legs soon—for the restoration of trust, is a far away groom—from these soiled, faithless hives-

Parables-Nine She says inadequately—sometimes I feel like being with one of my own—she means sexually I’m sure —I said—some days I feel like being alone—but the very essence of the world is on me—they can neither move forward—nor know eternal life— without each of our strides—and I’ve heard you speak of your differences—with them—of how the rabble are both your duty and refrain—so get up— and attend to what’s inevitable—and eternal—be by the home—you care so much for—as you write these verses along I do—their belief is intended for two--

Parables-21st-Century You should know that at the time of creation—and this writing—the world was a time and place of grave disharmony—and ignominy—people died of simple flu everyday—and there were common plagues—that barely a third of the world could be called free—but what freedom on the surface only-that it was overwhelmed everyday by special interest groups of lust and greed everywhere—the gun, alcohol and the gays—every religion dominated by closets of pedophile—and others within them—nothing but shame—that few ever thought of not abuse—fewer cared for what lies ahead—how driving them forward—had to be in spite of all their hate—and how fewest were returning—with faith--

Parables-Eyes and ears

He says—they say kill the Messiah—I said we’re more shocked—by how the Mexican treat another —the way the black man deceives his woman—by the way the Iranian and Jews treat themselves—by the very violence and intolerance in their caned ways—and that we drive this ship forward—for the benefit of eternity and those unborn—and that my eyes and ears are upon them for one reason—sole--

Parables-Ezekiel (Cains) Along the way—there are women, painted and— desirable—they laugh and whisper behind us— that’s hooshang—but by the food stands, their men stand, inert and tall—they touch the bread, the pudding—they want it soft—and I remember why her hands are so languid and inelegant—suddenly— why she’s indescribably insane, crowded and unhappy—on the way back—I said—move out of my way gay men—one of them craned his head and shouted—move out—I realized what he meant later on—that they’re too heavy—this crowd, for again-to become---

Parables-Intentions I wanted to tell her—but couldn’t—that whether your own spirits—or these ghosts—we play by

different rules—theirs and ours—I take care of the living—while they’re out of time—into the shadows —and their seethe and the doubts—the ills that the bodies are unaware of--but seep and harm—their lights—I give them knowledge and insight to better —their fates-daily—minute by the hours—but should they fall by the roadsides—of mal intend— there’s no one to raise them or bring back to life— but I—

Parables-Insight Insight is like eyesight to the blind-hearing to the deaf—without it every things is skewed—felt out of place—wrong appears sustainable—beauty’s made to suffer—these Asras are the tail ends of what’s fair—if they’re not by the rules given—none can be anywhere near our home, or names (Hafiz)-‫یا رب مباد آن که گدا معتبر شود‬


We went through the darkest freeways—and their own voices were around me—backs—black, brown —and white—but in the end as in the beginning— though they respond to those they can identify with easiest—they can only be led—by the most different—the cross in them—always finds--

Parables-Pamela This is not a people problem—the boyfriend not coming in—or a quarrel with husband—is shadows busting in—this disorientation –being lost is the result of—weight—it’s the elephant surrounding you—ballooning up—its losing meaning—but not even faith—the obstacle is this hill—but it’s a mountain instead—by climbing it—we elevate ourselves—inseparable—decide—and win8th, sevens(66)


Three months before the aboe-8th-sevens—I looked down from the roof of the world to my left—there was a square of brown and yellow—and there were ables deep in there covered in waste—her legs were climbing over own—he was trying to come up for air—and to their right were the seven stars of Bethlehem—with the dippers—all that waste went over--to power the removal—of the sources strife— for the good of love—forever-8th,

Parables-Los Angeles On the way to the market on Sunday—we passed by the church in the African neighborhood—spread clean and prosperous by the Amen in us—and I thought we can eat their bread and coffee unharmed —but the hussein-dying strings in them—called the shots—and the food was tainted—I could hear the cries of joys of the worshipers at the mention of ourname (Jesus)—and I discovered the source of strife in the rest—and close their doors— Forever-8th,10th


Sometimes it feels like the whole damn world is against you—but remember its only the damned that oppose us—and they are judged, declined for their thoughts and deeds—for the villainous disease —picture this—perhaps behind every act of rape and terror—stand thousand heads (hills of recede)-may be they’re unseen to your eyes—but are slippery like on the edge of a knife—and felt and reduced—by our feet--

Parables-Mary I said—its no great feat for the light of the world— to climb mountain—after peril—but its been more onerous—to carry the weight of the world for your daughter—as she lies crushed in bed—nearly broken—you shall be there—as an angel—and in body—as nurse—as floor sweeper—as a mendicant —but you will be there as two—

Parables-Abel (Van Goh) The woman says threatening—my men—she is covered in waste—for eternity—and wrong but worse without a star--unmarriageable to the hand of god—I told her—what you have as hamsar—near you—aren’t called men at all—I’ve known them as cowards and abusers of women and children— neither of you are fit to raise a child—to mother ever gods—be on your way—with your borrowed verse and light—decrepit, seedless grounds--

Parables-Us I’ve seen the holy ghost, and amen—and felt Mary’s Angels abandonment of you—at times—but no entity in the world has all legs—and willfulness in the heaven—and on grounds but my names—you can never be set aside—cast adrift—if you’re left us —by well—

Parables-Heart (Ghosseh)

And after Pam got sick—from the crushing weight of Abes—I sobbed—and felt like a shadow that existed on my heart is stalled—I thought—if she doesn’t get better—I should die soon of heartache— and wondered out loud—the Amen her father’s voice said—when your feet left—it took its impression from your chest and those strings are always held together—paatt—and we knew—that it shouldn’t be a misfortune then—that two hearts nearly beat as one—if symmetry has—deeply within—it—our both senses—

Parables-Bus On the bus from downtown back—to this abode—a couple—abes boarded the bus—and he spoke nervously to her—about their coming child—and pointed to her raised belly—and pregnancy—while whispering secretly of his desire for men—and she looked so sullen—unhappy and hard—sipping a can of sugar held by her heart—and he went on and on loudly—and I wondered why all this nervousness— and strife—and she said—we are gay—and I figured its all the pretending—that keeps them hot — And restless-Parables-Eshghe (6,9)

Downtown, by the library-two Canes (men) were talking too loud—and they were so excited that I looked at them reproaching, and wondered out— and his inner voice said we are God’s Eshghe—he was a tall bursting blonde man—I thought how can they be Loves—and the face of my star said—every time you and I—and our nine-Make love, its love for all—but I’ve been in love with the four nines just as often—but they have no Pam—she said--that must be why--

Parables-Books (Wintry Peacock) Once at home—I began to re-read the books I’d read before—by Mark Twain—on the left--whose voice was like Einstein’s again—and D. H. Lawrence—on the right (both Amen)—and as we read—I realized these were the voices of the Messiah as well—and how people read them and thought of heaven—and my sisters voice confirmed —and felt overjoyed by this resonance--

Parables-Lies Last year—in our little country of Guatemala (abes) —717 women were murdered—the young man says —worried about their wives and children—it felt— and don’t you know how more wrong-- your ways are—I told theirs—yours and Linda—khodams-raising your voice against the truth--by the countries —where they hate women and rape--

Parables-Creation Trudging myself through two—creation—has been like carrying a large boulder of rock—up, through steep dangerous-thorny mountains—helping another—loved one—is like walking on a hard wire —in a circus—which how our parents must have felt—across such sullen great days—with deafening sounds of envy and malice---where do these voices come from—you ask—I answer you—wherever-there’s not a lot of humanity—left in them--


Out on my left feet—the voice of the Jewess appears—unexpected—unlovable—like a tiny birdShe says her hair is spread here—they’re all gay— indifferent—complaining like hens—I said—we’re over a road—fast—and you point to a parking lot— that no longer is—available--first—even the milky way is a dot on my clothes--two—neither your strings nor hopes are any there any longer—the peepholes by your side are no hooshang—and you have none of gracefulness of my sayeh—and tell those hives—if they live by the force of our will and life— They exist by the grace of my judgments as well-Parables-Possession In the hospital—Pamela is 200 percent better— dispossessed, radiance-riddance of the demons from abes—resilient, floral—again— By the grace of her will, and Amen--

Parables-V’s I am waiting for her—to put her new clothes on— And suddenly the two men-nurses –start to move around—one sits by the door to her unit and says— we’re gay—the other begins to move his arms and legs—and I begin to feel this intense anger, and fear —then there’s burst of sudden energy from below— on my left--and I’m shaken by its interruption, and arrogance—I realized the shadows below had started to jump up and down—out of envy-- of the love of Christ— For her Pam--

Parables-Creation On the way out of the hospital—we said-- I miss you—to each other--and I raised my right palm to her—and she was stunned by the light that streamed out—held her left palm’s up--to meet his face—and I knew—the movements to—the creation of all stars were being realized—by our heaven and hell-Slowly—Greatly-- Compromised-Quantum moves-Eighth,

Parables-24th That night the heat wave in the middle of January broke—and rain that wasn’t predicted began to drizzle—and I had the smoothest dreams you can imagine—where I understood she was fed, and all was well with vazira, and amen— The night became 24th of January—of the 2013-th of our way--

Parables-Grounds And then I saw that abel and her abes—wanted the very essence of innocence—removed and upturned —not just amongst them—but away, and amidst the stars and constellations—and I knew it was great— because any ill-desire and wish upon us—meant the haste of the removal, and cleanse from my grounds, and earths—and I saw that though, we’d given him —colors and words—for the safe passages—the truth was he’d never been given meaning—because just as you can take a donkey to the water—but can’t make it drink—all the insight and comprehension—wouldn’t have helped saved them anyways--

Parables-Unavoidable The chronicles and gospels are brutally honest— these have been very trying times for us and them— but they have everything you need if you will to be forever—and if you don’t—and though you may not quite understand its physics yet—they also mean—if you don’t come my way—you’re not already here--

Parables-Jesus (Our names) Jesus—I thought—this girl is strong as it gets—and as vulnerable as most of them—under such weight (for creation)—and though we don’t know everyone by name and number—apart from knowing her— which constitutes the greatest likeness’ and challenges, faced--we’ve walked with all of them— in spirit-and consciousnesses’ everywhere—as well--

Parables-Favorites She said what’s it with this intransigence of theirs and shouting—and suddenly objecting to people you favor-- whom they had no idea --existed few years or even hours ago—I said—we love animals —you know--specially dogs—and most of these blank, intransigent faces don’t care for them—but if I say I love the sound of that pet across the street—I find it so agreeable—every other person walking by this house—will start to bark—but mostly in defiance, protest—yet still so--

Parables-Hands The coffee was tainted again—on the eve of weekend—and it made me laugh—the blinded haughtiness of the rabble—key holed—and if it were effective—I can just as easily turn the dial taken from zero to four—back to perfect again--it’s the nature of the light—and it shall be always straight—but the shoulders that move the arms that poison to harm, and invert—are in my very own hands—pointed, irrevocable--

Parables-Doctor The doctor on the Gordon hive—is a despicable man—lowest on the scales—he writes prescriptions for sullied medicine—he knows no one’s foolish enough to take —he says we’re jealous—I thought —here’s a 72 year old man—who sleeps with younger men-And wants to cheat his patients out of their fates-But only said—it sounded like a rat carrying a plague announcing—he’s just a snake-“”””””””””””

Parables-Abel’s -haram The sun hast to set on them—I’ve found them unworthy-of parenthood to my names and Pam’s— and inelegant—unacceptable for marriage to god’s names—Haram—we’ve watched them—day after night wrapped in dishonor, and waste—espousing violence and rape--—I’m raising new bodies and spirits—out of them—separate—invulnerable-sovereign--


These hives are of despicable men—the narrow mindedness of Saxons—that gas goes up by him— the birth of pedophiles been with them--and I’m no more disappointed—that one would be of a crawling lizard—that strayed into the palace of a kingmaker—and rejected--but his scribes are the frequency of abandoned girls—in little men instead--

Parables-Kourosh (Names) Just as we were born to the Cain’s stars—and dippers (right)—to be battle-like and ready—for the establishment of the Persian empire—Acts one—we had to be born to the grounds of abes this time—to make sure every judgment—and scribes—is complete—that the doors black holes are loaded and filled to the rim—for the removal of their sinful— wrongs--


Being born to the left- though she can no more raise a child than a man can fly—or grow wings—is an act of symmetry that needn’t be repeated ever again —for my qualms about not being with my stars and constellations---and the pitfalls amongst those men, and abes—are too many for God or P’am to bear— and its Sirius’s turf—anytime you’re thereabout— (Abel has neither no stars,)--let the glory be the mother of god’s—for eternity’s sake--

Parables-Energy She went around—the dark hairy woman— complaining-- how we celebrated someone they’d wished harm to, constant--someone apart from our self—it never matters who—so long as she’s loved —Mary, Pamela, Nine—and they protest—being loveless and forlorn—occupied only by the brazenness of their own—false safety of near—but so venomous--and she said wrongly again—to explaining their envy——‘our energy is opposite’—but you have no energy—I explained-that’s the domain of stars—it needs heaven—andhers—it requires the investment of another—it means thinking and feeling beyond oneself—yours is flat as a wall—as empty of a dried well--

Parables-Beauty She keeps coming back to say she’s attractive—but never beautiful—I looked at you from the rooftops of the world, to my left—and you were sitting there putting your feet into another one—like yourself—I know what you look like—and smell—the first Africa, is the only motherhood for you—but never again—for you can’t carry your children to youth— and health—and you shall never have the hands of God—by your fate—everyday that passes I’m astounded by your wrongs—and disgrace—beauty

is and always shall be someone else’s property and reign--

Parables-Mexicans (Abes) By the bread counter—the little woman says—cain —like a command no on can take—the bread is terrible as it is—tastes of grease—and bad cheese, Their only interested is below the waist--at the school where abes are visible alone—an old man with a cane—sits to watch the children enter to play —no body removes him, day after day—because the children keep saying khodam—its food--and their parents ways— to blame—Amen (Paz) says they don’t care who leads them—hojabra are sitting over them like knives to the race—and if they

commit racial suicide—first by invasion--and by their own deeds--next—though they keep kneeling in churches—with hearts so black--remembering our names--

Parables-Foul You see—if the food from left (Jews-Iran, Mexicans, Africans, Chinese)—goes to the right and inflames—if it makes Pam possessed and ill with their scents—and if it does, to all her race (whites)—and if this intrusion despite my warnings —and pleading for changes--continues and invades the neighbors ways—what should they respond—as they have-- and must—to remove the intruders from their plates--

Parables-Hives What’s a hive—she wanted to know—and understand—in a way that helps not-identify, But explores the mysteries that befuddle them— Imagine a tall building—the tallest you can conjure —that’s the door—and if its surrounded by groups of smaller buildings (tribes)--at different angels— the tallest is by heaven—or by nine—five—six-four—the surrounding are their feet—cooks, police, nurses—and astronauts—the height—leads its hopes—for the glory of homes--

Parables-Walls And from day to night—the gas rises above—and wants to plead its case—but assure them—you can go--so easier still—when you hit your heads against a brick wall—than plead your indifference to me— and ask for revenge—just as the first—no man here —goes through 10 million trials and tribulations— to invent an empire—raise the dead—and stand down—for disobedience and neglect—amongst those he saved--

Parables-Two With one of us alone— you can no more defeat the light—than shut out the day from the night---with both of us—my names and hers--your back is razed, up against the Sun—and you’re defeated by those who are with the stars—coming with the days--

Parables-Weeds Those who fret, and flurry about insight and science —are those who want to remain anonymous—for the fear of being discovered and made governable, by light--like the weed in your garden—they fear not being wanted—and presume increase—is achieved--under the eyes of your ignorance--

Parables-Dimensions There are 4000 pages of insight by two—if you draw a line through them—it’ll veer—up and down

—left and right—in circles, and skewed—but its because the line and your thoughts are flat—and two dimensional only thru—from the rooftops of the world—these senses are bold and true—as real as anything you’ve ever known—everything you wanted to prove--

Parables-One words Lets try an experiment—I thought today—for months—everyone who walks by whispers furtively —Khodam—as in she prefers herself— So I began--to suggest--Khodet—before some of them approached—meaning—you should only be interested in yourself (gay)—but Lo and behold— the frightened look on every one of their faces—it was as though—I’d suggested I’d leave them to drawn into a lake—as if the thought of another’s

non-existence was the most horrid thunder—they’d ever heard--

Parables-Un-time In the immediacy of—out of time—immediate because un-time, un-space has many degrees-but instantly out—the smells are so very strong —and the voices many—and they huddle around familiar scents (boo’m)—and frequencies—which creates problems—and absolves many—as in prejudices are deeper—but getting rid of the vile in humanity-easy--

Parables-People As we walk amongst them—they say anything— that deals with their most private features—though lately and because of this estranged wave of energy —its been: ‘Khodam’, sadly, emphatically said— meaning—‘we’re gay’—when you’re with the more inward, humble folks—its as varied as—‘I’m on skid row because of drugs’—or: ‘we wish we’d better more wholesome food instead—of this waste’--

Parables-Nine I told her—these Asras stalk us everywhere—that their own partners call them—Zana Zeshte—what do you propose we do about them—what direction to them from yours—she said—they are blind by the sole of my feet—waste-laid, if they don’t abide by our rules of purity, and perfection—their films and so-called glamour holes--shall close someday— for its clear they’re covered in yellow and brown— even to the rabble its apparent--how unclean is— their kind—and as they’re part of my legs—they work as us instead—but the coming of all queens— your wives—depend on what we decided—and set — Amen

Parables-Night The bread had been soiled by these Asras—who are unattractive, obese—and not very smart at all—so I was out at night, looking for something to eat—and this isn’t my time—early morning is the hours we keep—on the train back—a beautiful woman was looking for a mate—she walked by as I was eating and said—khodam—meant gay—but kept pacing back and forth—and then stared and said—you’re too old—it puzzled me—the voice of Gordon was aside—he said she’s both—and whites, Pamela’s— they know of love though--and keep going far—that

pleased me, and wished we could have had her— but the envious people would have come in between —and how could I have explained it to her? That the universe refuses to be agreeable—but that’s not the worst—it also doesn’t allow simple formulas— or explanations—for the host--

Parables-Adam Its true that Adam is our name—and Eve (Mary) was created out of myself—for I need a woman— my love must translate-- bear the races—for being forlorn—is no abundance—and its true that Cain (Pam) murdered Abel—but I’ve known them both —And Abel today and then—was and has been the biggest source of vex—had Cain not committed that sin—I would have exiled abe myself—(Murder of ones son is no option, unaccept)—but it’s the way of his voice—that I remember—its that constant irritation of others—and hurt—abels (Judas) has no light in them—he whines, and complains—and deceives for his own sake--

Parables-Jews (abes) Which why the abes must change food and their ways—for though it seems like comfort—this oil exchange—even if it feels as wielding power to the shortsighted amongst them—the rabbis, the pedophiles, gohld—the gasses—the truth is—has been—that the other races—are so vexed—that knowingly—or not—come after them—so they’ve been hunted and persecuted—for as long as god remembers—Moses, Kourosh (names)--

Parables-Khrab (Abe or cain) When you fall on almost every beat—break down, flawed—if nearly all thoughts and deeds—are mistakes—you can blame a collective of reasons— or yourself—it’s the same after all--


If you want to be treated as you are—an equal—to others—you have to treat a queen as she’s meant to —the king as himself—meaning just as there’s up and down—thick and thin--in the eternal symmetry of the world—there are your always constant homes —Able—And Pam—and the hope is myself--

Parables-Stairway To Hojabra—women don’t exist—not even a part of furniture—to Honeymoons, they are duty—and a décor—to me, they’re as vital as oneself--even more so--these are the sum of our differences--

Parables-Down Running through the shadows—is a lot different from walking through these landscapes—all the heat sinks down below—and figures simmer—strife is born—if you can see the faces and patterns waver —they’re not really dancing—there—movement thereabouts means only problem—if they were still, peaceful—nothing would stir—a thing—up here--

Parables-Drawings She says—why don’t you look for my photographs —I feel absent from life—I thought you knew—and explained—one—I only look for the drawings— two—they must have a history—meaning—a yesterday and a tomorrow—and names behind them —when you’re a picture—so insignificant—that you lie about your origin—it shan’t be worth praising—or keeping for 1000’s of years--

Parables-Nameless I go for hours of walk—early mornings—each day —relentless—and we like the waves to bring the beautiful in the humanity forward—they need no translators—can talk in their own eyes--I’m not looking for nines along the way—Pam has her own spirits--to lie about your origin—is to be kept outside—of love, and hives—you’re neither my mothers, nor sister—shall be no wives--

Parables-Hair Every time she stumbles for meaning and name, for soul—she says my hair—so listen—I invented this world—these are my strings—those are my children with my names—you have neither a hold upon my fate—nor theirs--speak the truth always, or those doors are taken from you—one after another— follow the rules as given from the top--the keepers are not so upside down—as you like to imagine--As you wane from afar--

Parables-Essence It wasn’t good that the very essence of eshghe— needed a rescue—from the evil possession-of khodam—khodams—but it was great to be able to offer the relief—sanctum from their waste—only the good in you can understand—and the best of you—shall spring forward—where, who and how— to lead a helping hand— Amen,

Parables-Khersak (2250 A.D)) I saw her out of time—thought she looks so much like our Mary—she read my mind—and elated said —we’ve been preparing for your birth—under my wings—later that day I saw beautiful, students in Hijab—she said waiting- for them--we are eshghe— reading my thoughts—out loud—

Parables-Gay The left is a lot worse off than the right—straight is always my way—and hers—and mates—and most

of the nines—and for those who can’t, with the weight of their strings-- must be celibate—to go on —at all—and those asking to have affront as their ways—there’s this constant need for dead bolts on my legs—out in front--

Parables-Lesbians And if you thought—only the men are un-returnable —you haven’t been by these lesbians—who molest their little girls—and buy the silences of those around—by selling them to wed—and you haven’t lived or walked by the abes women—unrepentant— intransigent—who repeat constant—‘we don’t care’--bringing so much anger and shame to their children—everyday--

Parables-Bache-foroush We stood at the bus stop—the African-American grand-mom and little son, they were both dressed in their best Sunday clothes—I meant to greet them— for being close—and smiled at the young man—full of pride for his soul—but the grandmother guardian —unaware that I was the Messiah—said ‘how much’—pointing to the little one—I’d tell you where she ends up—but that’s no afterlife—to speak of—nothing you can control--

Parables-Ailment In this world—the stink of something rises—always around us—and not so infrequent—and we put it down—by the grace of our will—with great patience, and force—let this abhorrence not be

yours—there’s no return from that road—I see to it--

Parables-Lavender As long as you’re in a body—you know the smell of fresh bread and olive oil—and the scents of lavender—a rose, and fresh mown grass, anywherethese senses are cosmic—uniformly—regarded— and accepted-- only rats are drawn to corpses, and death—take care of what you eat—and groom yourself and thoughts well—we all have to be distinguishable--

Parables-Imbibe She says they drink a lot—women who lust blindly after their own—they need the alcohol, to make it appear real, un-false— what can never reach our home, alone—which why those drinks weren’t banned at all--see how their bodies stumble and fall —that’s how it is too with the souls—it turns to salt —they arrive, by the holes—and leave forever— unknown--

Parables-Bread In the morning—I took the bus south, to a Mexican store I’d known before—their bread had been safe —but today—the rank rivers had heard the above— and brought three abe women forth—and they hadn’t bathed for months—it seemed—the odor was so strong—it had gotten into the safety—of their pan—and we knew—there was no way back for them—that what filled these holes—were ignorance and intransigence—and it didn’t matter—for the Two’s purpose is not preaching but enlightenment of the beloveds—and the first—always—is to take out—the foul—in the name of heaven on earth— and forever--

Parables-Their men I started walking with my groceries up Vermont Avenue—a Hispanic man walks out of a bar—he’s tall and slightly inebriated—he seems stunned by my sight—and appears very angry at us—but I looked at him quizzical—and he walked by smiling to himself—I heard him whispering later—“how handsome you are”—it reminded me why their gay men—always mix violence with affection--

Parables-Abels Your living will always marry her own—the doors can only be your mate for mere moments—lest you go out into the world—vibrant or amazing— sending you for jobs—is like sending a serpent to fetch cure for its poisoning—allowing yours into my lives—is like bringing the scents of stifle, hide —into all rights—springing--

Parables-Three That’s me—there is Mary like a flower born—and this is Pamela—there are no other living examples of strive and perfection—anywhere you are upon this world—some things, one or the other does intertwines directly—or not with your own worlds —but it revolves around god and my names—alone —

Parables-Amy The red hair girl—slept with the hussenis—and hung around them so—that I was displeased –and asked her why—she said –mardom—I told her— there are no people born yet—for whom, one must compromise or prostitute oneself---that these were the dregs of the world---the bottom wastes--

Parables-Linda (Judas) I know that woman who is your body is gay—its written that she’ll never live long—or prosper ever —for the wrongs you’ve done—for creeping into our homes—and that hussein is yours—the scum of the earth—have lost hopes—and you shall never mother Pam and I—that Mary must bring us up—by the grace of god—

Parables-Abel He was born with his ass in his face—that boy has been a menace to every race—I saw the gasp the people took—every time your names been raised to any office—across any land of mine—I’ve heard the horror the news of your mention incites—that man is a woman—and an absolute disgrace—no acts or jobs ever shall be yours—nor a door—can

be by your site—for too long—for the grace of god, and light—is so abandoned by your filthy kind--

Parables-Four After I looked down on that brown yellowish, foursquare—the dwelling of Abel’s and mates—she started to move her legs with lust into another woman—and the coward—the so-called husband began to climb out—for I was covered in rays— them in waste—as if he’d been made to come alive by the sight of light—but all he wanted to was rape —and was put outOf commission by his own race--

Parables-Four shadows

Then I looked at their shadows underground—at the top and the bottom of that sewer—and the rabble were the same ones down—as by the stores-indifferent to all calls for cleanliness and restraint— that they mustn’t rape or molest their children and bathe—for their odor was putrid strong—their height were sent to ivy schools—and were given jobs by the Amen—but brought disgrace to their nation—and themselves--

Parables-Not a man This same man had beat up his wife and raped his daughter—in another country—and he wanted to be with his men friends—but they had gotten hold of his deeds at home—and he was addicted to booze

and opium—so they supplied him—and turned him in to the police—and he tried to kill himself—and was buried—mindless—turned away—from his own--

Parables-Not After all this—tell them—she’s not forever—if the disrepute, insurgencies and arrogance don’t end— apart from these non-returnable crowds—you too— shall not be returning—in time—just as the obligatory unions to your Linda and others were temporary—since even motherhood—of the dearest —is not yours to woo—your body may not be—in the expanse of my world and universe--

Parables-Plenty Truth is not like gas—its inescapable—its like many rivers, and flows—its union with the honesty, and sincerity—of matters most—symmetries the past and— exuberant future—in its image— Trust me--

Parables-The black and the mexican

The little man—standing next to the black saysSedatoun—as an explanation for the poisoned and tainted food-he was told—your voices are all gay— all the lisp that fits in a crack—ours is not—the irritation shall be your leaving my world—straight —and there no way back--

Parables-Portions We’ll cut you up in delicate new beginnings— inspired—on the last century—you’ll cry—I am neither eternal—nor coming back—the small flowers aren’t brazen, and so old—yellow—that nothing infuriating—seething—can exist below--

Parables-Wives Except for Italy (Mary)—Germany (Pam)—all your wives are Nines—and though the union of heaven, it’s the most important event—and as desirable as loves—they can’t ever occur again—unless they are celibate—or with doors alone—for the wrongs of that sin—are many—its scents horrendous—and these names are theirs as well—as heavens—and to us faithfulness to the two-world—is keener than love--or any union that matters--

Parables-Not to be That boy (girl now) was born—with his back in his face—he went around the world making unbearable noises— And we tolerated him—and we kept them—but the eternity is achieved—there isn’t a day—that I Don’t wish her end is near—and as I wrap every will— around these deeds—its fruition—should be the return of their essence back to the meek—and she shall not be—and nor her wastes that call themselves spirits—and aren’t—for spirit isn’t colored brown—and yellow—and its intentions— aren’t so cowardly as these I know--


There are poets, astronomers—and scientists—of the world—there’s the Messiah—and our names— and you make possible the asras—and gases they feign—to be married to—though clearly not—any of them—worthy of unions of, women and men— but they pretend to be stars—and figure-heads—and all the lies can be seen, and felt—because their origins are with yourselves--

Parables-Asras and her gas Asra women are filthy—neither body nor soul—out of sewers of Iran—and America—the man she stands by is a whore—and they hide by day—and come out at night like the cowards—if you come out of waste—there isn’t much you can see—aren’t any places you can return to—its been like bringing two people directly out of the sewers—andmake them appear important—he’s Ahmadinejad, the smelly short so-called leader of iran—and she’s the lesbian in chador—that’s one set—the otherpretends to run a record company—and elevates the asra asa singing star—and are introduced to Hollywood—its so much hw low they are—its unchangeable, its in the tone of her voice that she’s from an actual sewer, and he? I’ve But the tone of familiarity she takes—is unbearable —I haven’t a less discrace of woman hood everlistened to him—he only lusts fter men—hates secretly women--

Parables-Not to be (Van Goh) That boy (girl now) was born—with his back in his face—he went around the world making unbearable noises— And we tolerated him—and we kept them—but the eternity is achieved—there isn’t a day—that I Don’t wish her end is near—and as I wrap every will— around these deeds—its fruition—should be the return of their essence back to the meek—

Parables-Not to be After the debacles at Oasis House—by the time I were to leave, out of their constant interruptions and envy—people would stand around—obstinate— threatening—and murmur like children left out of the pantry: “We’re gay.” Complaintive—sodden. And most of them had no place to sleep—or very little to eat.

But complaining that God wasn’t gay was on their lips. This ignorance astounded me. I knew none were ever returning—and such short lives--why not seek redemption—way not clean up your sins. But that’s been the way of Abes, for all of my time-- and their origin--that Abel was born with his ass in face. And I’d carried him, and their names— this far. But there’s neither kindness—nor obedience in their hearts. None can either write or paint. Without Gods. To be has never been their realm, and though God has mercy—they shouldn’t be again.

Parables-Asras and her men

The Abels wouldn’t be allowed to lead, after all you can’t expect the very source of problem to alleviate anything—and they weren’t trusted. So, these acts were done—the abel had an illicit affair with a lowly maid named Asra—the illegitimate child became that Ahmadinejad hive—he would be led into the figure-head routine. They would see them as their own—their own un-bathed ways—and there has been this Asras hive. She became his wife and wore a chador—in their language it meant, she’s die- hard lesbian like us. And even a pair of them were transformed to Hollywood, and they were actors, and he even attempted to direct, ad they were no good--as much a farce as the so-called leaders of Iran were. The abes thought--our own are in charge and were led into the pits. But still—these Asras and their husbands were louts, and soiled. If your origin is the abel sewer, there’s not so much control. And I watched from a distance—but was alarmed by the stench f their body and behavior— and after observing them for a while, I saw that no matter what form they came in, and where from, there was never hiding the fact that they came from goh. The mannerism, the very speech only spoke of sewers. And though--none are ever allowed in my nearness—I still had to listen to their decay and corruption from a distance.

Parables-Return to the meek Still, the fact that this abel woman—who is born instead of a man—is every bit as violent and decrepit—as her spirits been—that my left leg must eventually return itself to myself-the meek— though other souls will be raised, the being-ness of her name has been crossed out—in the book of life —I hold, dearly in—you were—but were ruinous to your kind—worst of all—and disobedient to God—

Parables-Pair After writing the above—I looked for signs—the holy spirit pointed to his hair—and said Ables’ men are my strings—and in heaven—Mary held her purse and said four—that your women are with the bluest Sirius-held--and your own voice said—Dawa —meaning—by the star wars in 4000 years—at the last judgment—is when you come back to your body—and source—when I walked outside—the abes were the happiest I’d seen in months—the news of being paired again—had reached their eyes —and there were tears of joy in their hearts--


Tell them-though the grand design—is almost made —we pay attention to the smallest detail—because the picture need fine tuning—adjustments are made everyday—so the greater good—is receivable—in wealth—and with subtlest reasons-

Parables-Heathens I asked Gordon—why do you bad-mouth Dostoevsky in your letters—he said its because the Saxons are envious and narrow minded of us— Amen—I thought only a fool would envy a man who spends years locked up and frozen—and fools never read great literature—there must be other reasons—(his religion)--

Parables-Amen I thought out loud—to amen—for only, they may understand—and be worth of your respect—that the strangest were these Hojabras—and Asras of this reign—people listening out for their voices—is something—but following scents of their own waste —which gives rise to these gasses, that bring turmoil— And ignorance to their own races—and I heard you say—they are all under nines or doors—but nothing I’ve seen—says these bodies—aren’t effected by the stench, of their source—that anything—but evil resides, and twists their fates--

Parables-Fate (Fall)

They began to eat a lot in August—the abes protest —tis news had made its way down—they wanted their own ways—of khodam—khodams- all the food from left goes to right-P’am—and she got sick by February—truly possessed—by the wrongs—but nursed everyday by angels—and the grace of our will—now that she eats—with all her canes—the narrow Sciatica band—chews it to Matter—and energy—but its moving around my heart—their food is poorly—and so are their thoughts—and we’re weak and lethargic—but everything passes here—only your thoughts and conduct—are forever — the abes each –must have shaved years off life— and the quality of their lives suffer for ages now— but the world must cleanse itself—even if it means the clenching of its fate (Ghaza)--

Parables-Actress She had a big hive—one of them was my roommate for a while—and she was kind, but such long nails —that it made you wonder—and I saw her cinema —and she was very popular—and women found her

beautiful—but she had the thickest voice—pasty and unseemly—and though I already knew— because we could smell the uncomfortable odor from a distance—I asked—who’s pussy your head’s been buried in-that your voice is so wrong—she said—My mom—I thought that’s why we’re here— and she knew--

Parables-Amy-9 Her hive is large—dutiful, and plenty—almost every one of them has meant the generation of love for so many—one can feel its waves for eternity— Her cinema was asked a question—and we watched predicting fire—but turned to the grounds instead and said—we’re gay—I thought—but loves’ invention has—and always be--straight—and should you ever be the shame—of us—again—its despair--

Parables-Ash Wednesday (2013 A.D.) After that—I went to the Korean church for food— as now, we have to support Pamela—as well as hearts’—and I was hungry, but there wasn’t much

to eat—and a black nun—came and stood by me— she started to write—and said Parables—meaning she writes her own details—of what there’s to see—and that her church is the one in Rome—how they have known their instructions —and soon be home—but only by, the very hours of our leaving--

Parables-Upturn Those who ask for gay—are like waves, that rip into themselves—without a shore to anchor in— drowning is inevitable--and for those who know right from wrong—the wave—is what allows you to come home—bloom and wither—perpetual—body and spirit--

Parables-Dutiful She said I am one—though beautiful, and inspired-the second Pamela—I thought—we should explain it more—but dutiful is when you come in spite of

yourself—as in you bring your rose—but not its thorns—and vipers--

Parables-Pamela (66) After rescuing her—and the food—and watching her bathe, and cleanse from a distance—I said—we shall arrange for new lodgings and shelter for you— from this place which reminds you so much of hell —but she had a temper tantrum again—and was defiant—against her rescuers, her mom, and the church—and her shadow loomed—haughty, indefinable—I thought—you see why they called you the Satan before— It’s the very inability—of the back—to forgive— forget-and move forward--

Parables-No’s You know the problem with P’am—meaning for them is often—on the other side—not with the good

—though love is here—and affection—all nurturing has its who—the weight of no—retrieves them back out of soothe—so, as the their Nine said—none is ever—ordained as shepherdess—to you--

Parables-Pams But if you have a leash—and you do—its your Nines—they have gods head—and your voice and body—sayeh—I’ve seen them--lead you out of many follies—with foresight and grace--

Parables-Live (evil) Pams are never involved with creation—they’re the can’t—but what I want you to not forget—is the

underlying theme of evil—never strays far, from them—though the seed is well re-planted, the branches can careen into cant—and leave hers stranded—but one doesn’t treat them with caution then—but with boldness—not injury—by the always-will—to turn over the thoughts and events--

Parables-Noise The governor said-My legs want me—to howl at you—if you come by this rich boy canes college— we’ll make it short for you brains—they claim to suffer from jealousy—but it’s like a poodle who barks at a horse—it believes the ruckus—makes them equal-But we know it’s a lie—they tell themselves—to keep Feeling safe and ignorant--

Parables-Us Sometimes you have to fight for Pam—a lot of times—her back seethes , ferments—tempers fly— in rows-but most of the times—she’s what we called for—a good-will planted seed—despite

thousands of years—of Devil, and darkness acts— lived archetypes—these parables—are all true to life—truest almost—of all things you’ve known— by far—and remember—just as Abel returns-— Pamela too—will be to the source—in us--

Parables-Two So, all those spirits of yours are ghosts, and angels now—meaning though in time, they’re with both Pams (Left and right)-out of time—the stars have already formed and are forming—and everyone that walks by you—has his—her home by Gods--

Parables-Move on Its too late for—what had just happened—the absolute need for respite—and endearments— meaning—we’re good—you are—you have to believe now—and move into—contracts and commitments—to self—and God--

Parables-Pictures As long as they can get a picture in—or crawl by— self-important, negligent—and they talk out of their behind—but I find the lesbians the worst—they have neither the gifts of nurturing—nor the graces of whole women—and I tell you again—its easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle—than a gay woman—to be born again—or rise to heaven--


If your women are gay anywhere—you can’t be married to the names—by Rome--the same nine truth—speaks volumes of the need for grace—by your home--and though you wonder whether—the doors are all gay—its true—that by Algeria—half shall be straight—and the other will lead the clay— for heaven is always like its soul—those grounds paths are not to imitate—but avoid—a door—is not a peephole—not gas-its not driven by anything— but what it faith—asks--

Parables-What The old Mexican began slamming doors—he complains he wants younger men—and the wife lusts after her own—so making noise is their form of protest—but the black man was standing by to close—and started the violence, by swinging his fists and arms, like he’s soiled—I told his wife watching—that’s not a man at all—she said but you called him a nigger—I said--and he proves my point--

Parables-Whole She says its them—people—that usually means she isn’t sure—or that like the rest—when confronted by the Cross—they think of themselves—as in, they’re the subjects—of our walks—and way—but

the view from the whole—is neither the heavens— nor hells—if they know—its because—they’ve heard the voice—of hope before—and it has no room—for them, ahead—it neither carries them forward—nor allows them—stay-by the usual sins —and neglects—for the overwhelming abundance —of his faith--

Parables-Soiled Later on I asked the man who hadn’t been one— what his punishment should be—for I could have turned him to the police—but wasn’t feasible then —he said-I can leave my family—and bed with a man—like I used to—but your violence is against your god and his church—he said—I must leave these grounds soon—or lose my child—and be grief-stricken--

Parables-Mentem supra For years—there was nothing but abes—and their wrongs—and every time—I went out—they ring out—our own—my owns—and then I realized I shall have them no more—that the abel would come home—to the source—and instantly the thought was with them—and they’d smile and grin, with compromise—and then watching P’am—all the turmoil—she was from—we knew she’s coming too —for that world would burn out—and they did smile at her—and think—she comes from him—and returns—it is good—and she was content—for all the darkness that’d leave us--

Parables-Known The beaten are sunk in the pits that are made—low, by the nets—your feet are taken—whether you are for the judgments I bring or not—the deeds are

done—the words—are set—only after the snares— have been closed—and opened--

Parables-Asra/Amy There was these two asras—came out of sewers— wanted to be an actress and a singer—and hung on to gay men—figuring it’s the only way—but none were good—and I could smell the waste on them— and asked they shouldn’t be in front of the rabble— the stench so dense—it incited violence--and she wanted these non-men, to rise again—and to beat up real’s--but their own silenced them—and none would ever be allowed near the lord—or his children--

Parables-Amy (Asras) Your hive is red—sits in hell, and unkempt—too gay—unclean—I’ve drawn you--and felt the putrid scents you emit--you’re not allowed near my names

—not here—nor in Germany by their Newton—not ever in aloneness—no way at home—not in a 10,000 years or more—long after all Asras—are foiled--

Parables-The letter Dear Pamela—its true you had what was once called—possession by demons—but you went through—with the help of myself—good nines— and amen—but you’ve been out for weeks—I’ve fed you out of my own mouth—discreet—but serenely—and you sit in hell—every form of lout and red lesbian—says they hear my name—and neither tis voice nor the keep is for Amy’s and Asras--of this faith—they shouldn’t be—nor could you ever not-return—to your berth—which is hooshang—our name—

Parables-Soiled Later on I asked the man who hadn’t been one— what his punishment should be—for I could have turned him to the police—but didn’t see to it then— he said-I can leave my family—and bed with a man —like I used to—but your violence is against your

god and his church—he said—I must leave these grounds soon, then—or lose my child—and be grief-stricken--

Parables-Asra/Amy There was these two asras—came out of sewers— wanted to be an actress and a singer—and hung on to gay men—figuring it’s the only way—but none were good—and I could smell the waste on them— and asked they shouldn’t be in front of the rabble— the stench so dense—it incited violence--and she wanted these non-men, to rise again—and to beat up real men--but their own silenced them—and none would ever be allowed near the lord—or his children--

Parables-Amen I thought out loud—to amen—for only, they may understand—and be worth of your respect—but the strangest were these Hojabras—and Asras of this reign—people listening out for their voices—is something—but following scents of their own waste —which gives rise to these gasses, that bring turmoil— And ignorance to their own races—and I heard you say—they are all under nines or doors—but nothing I’ve seen—says these bodies—aren’t effected by the stench, of their source—that anything—but evil resides, and twists their fates—

Parables-Pam-8th And after being saved—by the grace of angels— your first move was to call your parents names— and the pan would turn—almost every hour—and there were rows—and you flip—and these lesbians and backs—they use you, without compassion— mercy or grace—and each time we stood up for your right to live—(they’d say she has to starve to death)--these sames would protest, act out—and sell you down the river—as they’d myself-So all acts for return of P’am, to the source—were finished--completed here—eighth--

Parables-Red shift This red-shift hive on hell—amy and nicole—are the waste-laid, I have known them for every wrong, the very scents—they send a black dog to do a mans job—and should they ever come by my names— that hive is done for—I shall see that by the time my feet returns-she holds not one glimpse of hope —of resurrection—of her states—of leading the believers and—non—for haste—I shall assign them to the sewers—forever-in the name of the Eighth--


REGISTRATION NUMBER: SRu 1-050-086 December 10, 2011 21-easy-pieces-

REGISTRATION NUMBER: TXu 1-801-964 The chronicles, Poems-1 November 1, 2011

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