I think the whole gluten free stuff is TOTAL BULLSHIT. Making bread is an ancient and for many cultures a very - spiritual - ritual. Yes the shit you get from the supermarket is to be avoided, but good bread which has been kneaded with love and care before baking and covered in grass fed butter is a glorious human ritual. Another thing is that most of the people I know who are going gluten free I have noticed no improvement in their health. I think this is another shambolic trend to remove us from the spiritual nature of food preparation. You eat bread kneaded and baked by a woman who loves you and its like being French Kissed on the soul.
Conception -> Poetry by Shaun Delage of The Church of Techno
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I look around and wonder at all the pain and oppression.
Seems the going intellectual notation is suppression.
Fuelled by ignorance and aggression.
Wanting more in this society and a natural progression.
I make it my beautiful little obsession.
Otherwise collectively we will all die of depression.
Wanting to creatively alter my own expression.
Facing this darkened deception.
Only wanting in the process my own redemption.
Having a deeper love for affection.
While others focus on their own perfection.
Let us all be characters in our own ascension.
Blasting out of this realm into the other dimension.
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Systmys - Church of Techno poetry by Shaun Delage
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I lay my head on your powerful shoulder for just one kiss.
I want to be taken into your thoughts of pure bliss.
I would travel with you into a most colourful spectrum abyss.
Loving you like you display that you’re simply my nemesis.
I strike the blows from my face as a simple hit and miss.
Simply taken as you’re being rather prejudice.
I hold your hand through this twisted and lonely metropolis.
Many will try and form a certain degree hypothesis.
My wings are starting to display and it is a beautiful
metamorphosis.
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Boi vs Man - Church of Techno Poetry by Shaun A. Delage
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I go about in my outfit fit for a schoolboy.
I walk around with the bulge of a playboy.
I look at you with the eyes of a cowboy.
I seduce you with the touch of a rent-boy.
I ride you with the vigour of a stable-boy.
I take pride in being a masculine lady-boy.
I saunter in and out of your life like a toy-boy.
I wear five star outfits like a bellboy.
I will always be your pride and joy.
I hold your hand like a devoted houseboy.
I guard you like I am a butch viceroy.
My life is uniquely and intrinsically urban.
The old theatre curtain, Swings down on the German.
The priest replaces the spiel with a sermon.
The man looks at me with the gaze a surgeon.
He says my look is somewhat Persian.
I told him, he is somewhat of a perversion.
The beings swarm around me like some black incursion.
I want to fly through the water in a blue filled immersion.
Swimming to the point of complete exertion.
Hoping to sway my mind in a little diversion.
Occupying my thoughts away from the supreme chairperson.
Swimming in my Speedo like a cool-cat sportsperson.
Somewhere I don’t want to be in a state of overburden.
It would be nice to dabble in extroversion.
actually come to think of it, I find solace in introversion.
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Ultimate Lurv - Poetry from the church of techno & Shaun A. Delage
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I am ultimately and incredibly psychic.
I want nothing more than to find my hot sidekick.
I would at once point to something more cyclic.
Given a dash of pure ultimate nitric.
My life for you is seismic.
I am ultimately the writer.
I want nothing more than to find my own survivor.
I would at once point to something more like a spider.
My life for you is to basically be your subscriber.
I am ultimately and incredibly credible.
I want nothing more than to find my temporal.
I would at once point to something more legible.
My life for you is presentable.
I am ultimately and incredibly weaning.
I want nothing more than to find my unseeing
I would at once point to something more nonspeaking.
My life for you is believing.
I am ultimately and incredibly jaded.
I want nothing more than to find my sacred.
I would at once point to something more antiquated.
My life for you is x-rated.
I am ultimately and incredibly tactful.
I want nothing more than to find my powerful.
I would at once point to something more youthful.
My life for you is fateful.
I am ultimately and incredibly essential.
I want nothing more than to find my central.
I would at once point to something more elemental.
My life for you is evidential.
I am ultimately and incredibly epic.
I want nothing more than to find my prophetic.
I would at once point to something more symmetric.
My life for you is empathetic
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Tigg - Church of Techno Poetry - Shaun A. Delage :)
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Comfort in illusion yet solace in disillusion of faith.
Solace in comfort yet faith in empowerment.
Infusion directly of belief.
In order of perpetuity.
No struggle unless time bound.
Other than that restricted in inclusion.
Or thought up of encouraging extroversion.
Mindset of interaction.
But more-so timing of self depending on ability.
A sensitivity of mending of souls.
Other selves and other beings in a spacial reality.
Theories abound of selves.
So small they almost are nonexistent.
The writer writes until they break it all down.
Or simply discover the reasoning being the man with the pen.
Either run or fly high through a self so mused with impressionism.
Of an artistic faith.
Or movement,
Most would hardly believe and individual could hack into the
collective code.
Time be to unknowing.
Selfless figure in amazement.
Involvement in evolution.
Perhaps you are not made aware of the fact.
The intrigue of the being.
The hatred and secret war on those that resist.
Live for one.
Live for many.
Why does one persist?
To revolt against all this madness?
It is simply a belief in a thought.
Or belief in an ideal.
To live for a second self.
Of only three more times, to go.
Intuition of sanity, and helpless thoughts become one soul.
For the many that are trapped, passionately...wanting to be
released.
Cognitive philosophy.
Generalised theory of a self.
Perhaps an automatic writer sent from divinity.
Oneness with ones higher being.
careful not to tread on those that help us along.
But a more-so beautiful smile given to,
those that would happily take our last breath.
Born into bondage, of course one hundred million crimes may be
committed.
On the next one you pay a brutal and bloody figurative death,
everyone gives up and submits.
That they know of not one being has made it.
Theoretically, given a full faculty of knowing a path.
Discovering a self, beyond that and exuding confidence over seven
billion souls
Me, to find my soulbud amidst so much hatred for independence,
will always be difficult.
Considering what they will blackmail him with,
the poor guy.
I will help.
I may never get to lick his lips,
in this lifetime.
But I will make magic while I am here.
My own theory will pervade this occultic matrix,
until this being is found,
and he will be released from hostility.
He will be released from his sins.
He will be forgiven with all of the powers of creation.
There is nothing that can be done to stop this progression.
It is already in place for one soul to meet one being.
Then reunite that being to his soul.
Only time can spit on us, but I will wait for endless centuries to
pass.
I will find you.
When your heart meets mine.
You will see that love exists without pain and hatred.
Without sexual slavery, and sadness.
For feeling so empty that love exists without having to explain or
simply put, confess...
your inner most secret thoughts
that the solitude you have lived will never be alive again
when solitude feels threatened the mind begins to make angst.
Two beings cannot be alone for existence.
It is painful to the system
and they will take everything down with their pain.
Love knows no hate.
One journey,
no matter how painful,
Can all be healed
and forgiven from.
He is mine, I am his faithfully.
We are not sick.
We are love.
We are not illusion.
We are love.
We are not false love.
We just simply exist as love and then fade away, gracefully.
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Saucy ---- Poetry Church of Techno - Shaun Delage
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
Scent of a man,
licking his pits,
unknowing to himself...
worked all day.
Scent of a tigerthat
has just feasted...
bloody cat snout,
Although it’s natural.
Illustrious nature of those that govern.
Infusion of beliefs into our culture by Intravenous drip.
A placement above the rest.
A desire to create abundance.
Amusement of those that are the ultimate key holders.
A poet in one of hundreds of styles.
But not in alien language.
My own selfless figure eight.
That awakes and takes shape.
Every day, I sit like a virtual inmate.
Most just say, pour some sauce on life it
is easier to digest.
The force of being held quite close.
The stare of those that have nothing on the inside but everything on
the outside.
The hurt of those that have nothing on the outside but much to give
inside.
One story to tell amongst millions.
One order shouted quietly in your ear to make some toast with butter
on it.
To follow for a short time,
then forget.
Be my exclusive club.
Just let me suck on your flesh.
Oh done.
Were done.
Goodbye
- Shaun Delage
【ツ】••*:•○●♫♪*¨¨*:•○●♫♪ $回▓ ☺·•°°*¨¨*:ॐ【ツ】
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