A Winter Sonnet

Live as a recital, 

Trapped in the shadows of December's sad amnesty song, An ode to joy! Written by the trinity concepts of fall, Months that stream malignant tears like the fading stars from the sky, Voting to bypass the bitter demise of sandcastle earth's season of dark emotion terrors contrived as demons conspire under shade of night, Proposing a vile hope toast to a forever twilight!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Loop Reviewed Poetry Theatre GOMA Take II

Part two of a Loop Theatre Performance at the GOMA review, this one written at home.

Beautifully witnessed,

     Contemporary living unshakeable dreams, too oft left single lonely stage of attention out, Beyond the mountains of stigma, portraying them as mere beautiful insecurity mannequins... Our sight is the disguise, of magnificent change your perception and heart lives.

     As if artistic wish capacity was docile, but it never was... Painting extravagant lip blossoms of budding smiles, forever blooming as happy memories, A new forever recollection portrait of hope, never to be forgotten,  Amidst the ache of our prolific social aptitude sight blemish diagnosis held over others, A test everyone's conscious heart of conviction should refuse to accept.

    Beheld in a magnificent gallery, hall of  acceptance's equality summer after the reign of a bitter December recital, how tangibly organic and beautiful is the heart's choreographed epidermis counterpart locomotion of a memory loop theatre's conscious marionettes, providing more than physical movement!

     If any eyes who witnessed had a heart, surely it  moved!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Loop Reviewed Poetry Theatre GOMA Take I

Written in the moment, 

     As the heart moved whilst watching Loop Theatre Patrons perform at the GOMA, May 2014.

Beautifully witnessed.

     Contemporary living unshakeable dreams, too oft left invisible beside lonely stage mountain, as mannequins... far behind.

     As if artistic capacity wish docile, but not. Painting extravagant lip blossoms of budding smiles, forever blooming in happy memory service upon a museum of faces! A new forever recollection portrait of hope, never to be forgotten

     Beheld in a magnificent gallery, of acceptance choreographed movement.

     If any eyes had a heart, it surely moved!

In earnest anticipation of,

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The Little Things

Sometimes,

      It is better to let be what you have written, as a short malady of words that crescendo into the mind, then the heart and finally the conscious soul of your readers. Let the little things be. For there is oft more magnificence to be found in a brief line than in a poem of infinite stanza(s).

     Standing at the blurred,

      No faithful to hopeless finger lifted in attention; Edge of apocalypse tomorrow, Where the reset of karma's soul caste poverty reincarnation system is blessed by every mythical god's well bloody crimson oil stained red right single digit raised fist!

      The time for equality on our sandcastle hell avarice swollen earth, is at hand...

      Which was posted today, a simple little trick of the vernacular hat poem, that might mean something to someone... Or it may not.

Only a handful,

     Of oaths ever make it... But the disavowed still retain their amnesty towards hope...

     So when toiling under threat of silence in response to your work away, write only what is necessary, nothing more nothing less, as it pours out from compassion's empathetic imagination engine within! But that imp-perfect line, can't be taught, learned or drawn, not really... It can only be discovered in context of the moment as you deem fit.

     For as the art immunization theory states that only you define your art, and therein lies the fluctuating algorithm of assurance, the courage to stand in what you craft.

In earnest anticipation of,

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The Auditorium II

A Place for performance,

     If you're like me, and your home town has no venue for poetry... This space is for you, to win back some of self decaying esteem, back from the beautiful insecurities, that you haven't quite realized are magnificent in your life.

      How we look at ourselves, it shapes us. My journey into poetry began as cathartic journal entries that somehow morphed into stanzas I now know are poetry. But I no longer believe that there are true definitions for what poetry is, in the sense that people can categorise an artists work simply to disavow any creativity therein. This has happened to me and I shall do my best to give you the tools to see through the lies people are feeding themselves and thus handing you.

     One tool is art immunization, a type of self-esteem or confidence, I don't really believe in confidence... That is a disguise projected to create an image, I believe in courage... For it is an image, a disguise worn to projected the created.

     The assurance is not specifically in who you are as a person, more-so as an artist and specifically in what you create and how you interpret people's criticisms of your work(s).  Part of that morale is clarity, or if you will, conviction. Belief in the art you are making is more than just... Or is simply just...

      Created to raise awareness of a particular topic through the finely honed empathetic imagination engine within or woven via inspiration merely to reflect the world around you or the emotional memory shrapnel ache upheaval in any particular moment of life.

     The Auditorium is a place for people to perform, get feedback, discover who they are as an artist whilst listening to other people perform or they themselves performing. Working with f(r)iends to create a piece, collaborating or merely getting some kinds words of mentorship. The online space will be open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with a regular performance schedule and competitions which winners will get awards to show their recognition.

     Whoever and wherever you are on earth, if poetry is your thing, The Auditorium is definitely a place you should check out!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Scottish Poetry Fanzine!

Well Scotland,

     Your poets are on the vernacular war of peaceful resistance path yet again, The High Flight is a new Poetry & Short Story Fanzine made by four artists uniting to create something the rest of the UK might enjoy. How do you find out more, go to the source! First hand account by Sam Small  On Youtube The Indiegogo Campaign is on a march to creative ends!

      So, maybe you know who scarlett johansson is, well she was recently quoted by a 3rd magazine convenient party as stating she'd move to Glasgow, For our poetry scene! Yes, that's right people the creative young persons masquerading as poets in this city have brought attention to it as more than just 'Scotland's Largest City.'

     Not that we're pretending to be poets, only that... Well, a lot of us are humble word noobs that just adore creating and reciting words on behalf of something more than ourselves! I in particular would only call myself a poet on behalf of conviction's onset within, contriving the empathetic imagination engine to write for a cause beyond that which is merely the 'I' entitled me.

     So whether or not you're from Glasgow or Edinburgh, show some support for your peers and those who are creating on behalf of sharing, to inspire something more... In others, even if it is just a smile!

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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Tidings of a Poet's Bargain

It has begun,

      Though a myriad of mistakes have been made throughout the memory ache of this life time; Don't let those mistakes make you.

       Everything is in order, the Algorithymns² Poetry Project Spoken Word University launches it's 30 man spoken word Teamspeak Server this week end! May the conviction in your vocal chords resound in the vernacular of your poetry, as you channel experience through the empathetic imagination engine within, to inspire other to... Arise from inaction to their own aspirations!

In earnest anticipation of,

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Friday's Mental Health & Social Stigma Awareness Poem

Based in part off of,

Dapper Illness Seduced Devil

The Written Spoken Word Transcript from last night's Philanthrobeats performance to end Social Stigma that exists in the intolerant realms towards those with mental ill health.

Dapper Ex-Spider Skeleton Stigma Devil

       For many years of my life, someone very close to me used to tell me I wasn't worth a vivid damn dream, that I should cease to exist at all... Eventually I stopped listening to the ill reprobate in the mirror...

      A quarrelling piano tidal enduring December recital illness flowed like reverse benediction, Holding back the grains of purpose as the beautiful sea of insecurities sandcastles into closed sickness doors of the mind ruins all around the former being that was me.

A Pariah inside my own holocaust anorexic husk.

     A self phantom abusive reflection of a ghastly intangible skeletal devolving limb of hope, no one will ever miss you, fish heritage, not so near the ocean bed of death.

     Compelled in disagreement to condemn the bipolar third deviant-mutated-heroic personality succession Reich, Mindsharing unwanted dermis geometry buried defiled talents of well puppeteered newspeak soliloquim events!

      Holding up shelter under a bulimic self purged esteem, Clothing dripping from the mouth's recent single forced digit crime,  As decay begins to writhe inside gaunt tendencies, Chained to my childhood burnt long suffering watched in emotion terror silence offerings, of health relapsing porcelain criminality!

      Hours distraught spent in earnest anticipation of a redefining night dream cerebus owl curfew moment: When under the napalm amputated wings of sulphur diseased angel's hides the every generation heirloom, written on our poetic sentient conscience soul;  wish!
        A refuge we're all D.N.A promised: of a loving intolerance unadulterated family's acceptance...

     Nature's seemingly artificial knowledge, For in most trial home based cases the embed intel seems derelict of truth. Ringing our bones with purple domestic riddle bruises!
     Our communal reincarnated yearning of a grafted love experience testifies to this sadness...
     But the archaic clarity lore of optimism's structure architects must long sanity lost aspirations ago been released from their infinite ode to a strangely dim joy never found works of sorrow.

      No matter what ill begotten mental strain incapacitates the nights, My fear black dread-ful austerity sheep epidermis is a prison of opaque disguised!

   A guardian's blanket signature pillow cell, With shame walls stained with endless wisdemonic memory ache tears of fallen atonement ash, no longer winged mythical f(r)iends,  Invisible are my only comrades in illness: The seven lions of a pathetic hydra's psalm isolated angel!

      Tonguelessly scream mouthing an inaudible Mother Lord's prayer! Their misery hands severed cauterize bound by incendiary ambitious sins, Are vengeance signing   the unsolicited  failed edge of time safe -  tone scattered grace deaf lethargic hallelujah chorus of inhumanely apathetic shadows, Against the white social lie injustice stigma  that is Avarice's complaisant comfort distracted purpose!

     Bitterly remarking inside that I... I am a strappingly homeless at heart off my own presumptuously assumed arrogant epidermis sleeve! Mumbling like thunder in fright of being vane!

      A dapper self wraith of hope respiratory ill of conscience' breath rarely taken reflection, A solitary mobile devil's anti-acceptance subconscious trench defence against my illness: Denial, Lingering in the paranoid dark murmurs of disavowed ruminations woven in congealing spider's abandoned silken prey blood!

      Fragments of an internal multiple schizophrenic green over sleep's black screen text sourced matrix dream monologue! For which there was no relief from... A jilted shelf white li(f)e of a self deformation ebb and sickeningly thin skeleton flow of a emaciated secondary intramural carapace platform harbinger's requiem!
     A not so wholly believable diagnosis of dissociated identity, unpleasantly haemorrhaging: a war! 
     Hunting the scent of a F(r)iend's silhouette reflected in fire infused sand, With a spear grin tipped dialogue, Entitled: false dismantling pretence, My a-smile!

     Marking the shadowy impression with the scent of dried vampiric dried gasoline thirst vermilion!

      Thriving on lucid burlesque swollen no undergarment tattooed open neck unto fang spectral fantasies!

       At a loss for consuming an arachnid woven silk pill, A gentle ashen mind soothing future from a forest box of fire incapacitated fox wood's second narrowly wicked genesis verse of a prescribed regeneration methods to contain the shadow's self annexed PTSD esteem sickness!

     Declaring a genocide of disagreements from illusionary cohabitants, Abusing the affairs of hope's dignity, The combatants have forever put the self - libel of - acceptance out of action!
      Creating the sub surface sequence of expounding daily episode of regrets, Leading the mirror towards this creeping forlorn doubt twin emotive helix sonnet parasite of well contempt rehearsed humiliation and suicide harmonic guilt!

      Aftermath of a single skin to knife f(r)iendship attempt is this: A blazing steal singed wrist scar!

     If you take no words away from this, remember  the following. Not as lecture or unqualified psalm, but as a reflection from a poet.

Here is the adage:

No one can say they love another, if they do not accept them!
No one can say they accept another, if they do not know them!
No one can claim to know someone, for who they really are, unless they desire it! 

In earnest anticipation of,

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A Ceremony of Updates I: Project

Rest,

      In the assurance of a worthy quest! A project built  for Performers! Poets, I cannot say our time is now, but surely our presence is on the rise. Spoken Word University will allow poets, Short Story Tellers, those interested in listening and writing to gather together no matter where they are in the world via a multiple Online Auditoriums.

     The guardian did a post on performance poetry just the other day, it can be found here for those of you that would like to have a read! : Performance Poetry: Word in the Moment

      There will be poetry competitions some even with themes and templates, which they can edit themselves to fit who they are personally as an artist, especially for those just starting out in public speaking/reading and writing, so that they mould a firmness within their convictions. Allowing each artist to find their originality, voice and presence within the landscape of what their empathetic imagination engines brings forth. 

Such as this short:

SWU: Prayer
All art in heaven, Hallowed be
The empathetic imagination engine 
Occupation of green over black screen
Text based artistic originality;
For Change & Equality

All Art in Heaven, Hallowed be...
The Occupation of Artistic Originality
For Social Change & Equality

      Project Expected Launch Date is September 1st 2014!

Team Algorithymns² Poetry

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The Little Things: A Winter Sonnet

Sometimes it's just the little things,

Massive metaphoric tales of what the mind's eye holds as beautiful or contemptuous aren't always necessary to inspire. Here, is one of several hundred 'Little Things.' Written and posted by Algorithymns Director Juton. A humbly authentic honest poet who writes on behalf of social change, for justice and equality world eternally wide.

Live as a recital, 

Trapped in the shadows of December's sad amnesty song, An ode to joy! Written by the trinity concepts of fall, Months that stream malignant tears like the fading stars from the sky, Voting to bypass the bitter demise of sandcastle earth's season of dark emotion terrors contrived as demons conspire under shade of night, Proposing a vile hope toast to a forever twilight!

In earnest anticipation of,

Read More

Creative 'Unblock' Storm Project(s)

Weather,

     Whether or not you develop your own creative mode under the beautiful ominous threat of silence or betwixt the eternal sound scape overture pressures of malady and melody, there is method in the subconscious madness that marionette string self pull persuades your creativity to come alive.

      The storm is often harsh of criticism, whether from the external society that 'just doesn't get it' or from the self, where doubt lingers for lack of a confident foundation. This is what the Algorithymns Poetry² Project Spoken Word Universe(ity), is all about; instilling courage upon conviction in artists, so that they might overcome and utilize the life stage threat of silence to their advantage, whether that be whilst performing or in every day to day social 9 to lonely 5 irregular artistic interval existence interaction.

     Don't let the master-peace hand dramaturgy craft fate key into dreams go redundant to everyday survival epiphanies drumming lullaby comfort shallow aspirations into the depths of your imaginations wonderful creative tide.

In earnest anticipation of,

   

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Charles Bonnet Syndrome I

Mainly Affects Elderly or...

     The Lost of Sight, A visual synapse loss syndrome chapter of, 'for the most part,'mild off mental ill social health stigma target quota let down reality's guard to blindness organized enjoyment hallucination merry unexpected entertainment break from the dreary on kilter edge of normality.

In earnest anticipation of,

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A Written Spoken Word: Rune of Luck

Running up sand dunes,

      From the miller's anxious slow glass reverting to grains of above the avarice skies greed's bad no luck son is falling in extended malicious cat nails single puncturing digit palms as dogs chased them down beyond the frozen throne realm over of hell's condescension where the ashes of angels for whom the complication of bells stood idle never tolled, Therein held vocally tone ransom deaf unto inaudible chords unstroked by the touch of time's fatherless origin soul who would omit an overture of logically sound evolutionary speech to surrender all inhumanity incapable of resurfacing greed's crescendo of guilt unto shame's debt.

In earnest anticipation of,

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A Written Spoken Word: Polite History

     The following is but a small 'written spoken word' adventure that blurted out this evening, this is one of six of these that was done today and nearly every day from our Curator, Juton. Hope you all enjoy, look forward to witnessing submissions for exposure, growth and thought provocation in the future.

Glittering etymology,

     Paper historical oracle marionette figures, Lost in a sea of captivated heart beats trying their obligated best to endeavour one grand suggestion upon the shores of inhumanity's next discovery, 'Be ever reminded children of the one truth clause; that no narrow profit black screen of riddles gone cold in death as the green metaphoric text bleeds off can ever outweigh any minute seemingly insignificant cost. Remember to tolerate one another in simplicity of duplicating the true remedy of acceptance via dignity and enjoy the attention given to society by attempted artistic intervention methods against the monetary deficit into debt before the queen of crimson faltering hearts flailing tattoos bleeding off sleeves amidst the complex of this falling Sandcastle Earth.

In earnest anticipation of

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The Power of Lines

What one simple word spawns,

     Resurrects another from the nether, for an ethereal realm of invisible shadow fires synapses in an overture that holds true to the power of anyone's tale. For as we read another's so too do we relive our own, through smell and sight amidst deaf tones of an uncertain future, humanity must hold true to empathy! So that we might reach out to one another, on this majestic, yet oft overtly greedy and inhumane, sandcastle earth.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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Challenging Stereo Art Types

The integration of words,

     While S.W.U manoeuvres its Start Up Self into position to become a world renowned source for the future of Poetry, Spoken Word and mixed media text-art, let us, in the meanwhile, consider what Spoken Word might look like if it we were to read it as if it were produced in said form of prose.

     It might look like the following, holding strongly laced prose to a political, social or inhuman to our earth stance. See below for Malefic Condescension III

Prophetic seer's groan,

     Pure urge of a peaceful vision clause trapped in the heart's of undeserving greedy men who stand as a beacon of apathy at the end of lethargy's dusty hateful rage penetrating nature's light with unkindness house of battle never won dread forever yet naught in a future of cries where inhumanity the only virtue of Avarice bride of the shallow unbelieving who reside above the moral trench wars.

In earnest anticipation of,

     The above is one in a sequence of poems that holds weighty connotation towards a particularly narrow point of unoriginal view, held by so many unhappy folk today. Unhappiness, discontentment, these are the reasons why I delve into the poetic depths and continuously search to inspire the opposition; acceptance, equality, hope...

     Poetry, and in particular Spoken Word, has magnificent well word woven structure, the metaphor and double think (in jest and parody usually) that are lived out on stage, under constant threat of silence, are astounding. The passion to create, the daring to perform... Alone! And yet, poetry's reach is not so grand, at least not yet, possibly it shall never be.

     But that doesn't mean we have to hold ourselves ransom to the threat of silence; not from an audience or praise from our families and friends, for the emotions, the moral trench conviction, all the creativity and passion held within and said allowed or written, are the vehicle for change.

    S.W.U Seeks to utilize the web to bring together poets from all over the world, in all languages in order to promote poetic people's work through recognition, this shall be done through The Auditorium, a 900 Person Spoken Word Server that will be used to host poetry slam competitions, with rewards that you'll be able to keep on your wall, in your desk or pinned to your shirt as you travel the world... Though I think 'pinned' is not quite the right adjective to the function of holding a plaque upon one's favourite check mate T-Shirt.

     In the future we will be delving deeper into what poetry is, where you can take it and how you can utilize so many different options out there to build your confidence... Which is mostly just courage any ways, so yes! Mentor you in courage, I suppose is the correct vernacular.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

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