CLS 330

This J.R.R. Tolkien class simply won't let me believe anything else than the fact that Tolkien was a literary, philological, etymological, creationist, cartographic genius that somehow poured far too many names of places and people into Middle-earth as to make it simply believable and true.

The anachronistic nature of the world blends his England with Medieval times and births the ideal world in which adventure is not just a necessity, but is king.

col, id, age.

the wrecking ball stalls the call to follow the 

bent and twisted destroyed and crisp-ed rainy

days are ways aways for strays stay for layman

hey, man, really?  

for a pretty penny i’ll move it (tow) two (to) fields.

try a fourteen thousand pennies plus

i must bust out of the doubt and shout

the clever fever rises in me.

to cry to try to bide my time.

i’ll find a way when my heart doesn’t strain with worry sorrowing

continually borrowing green hit the lean teen with my machinist’s creation

i was going to fix but now it’s left for picks nix the nacks flack attacks.

the mark

sincreasingly taking my heart and pushing the spirit

idiosyncratically devolving my love from inside to deeper

as a son sets inside itself, cause and effect assume position, respectively.

known it was, but symptoms rarely spell the superfluous rituals false

it must be torture, delving inside to something that does not exist

inside the self.  to look for meaning where it has been pushed away

the meal

simple food and drink to ease our re-minds

serving to everyone, preparing the way, calling to die.

striking the core of what is left, re-minding surroundings.

salt-filled hair, hearts and eyes holding it down.

telling the times, staying the table golden.

give up, forget to remember.

the mess.

it calls for trust it calls for breaking

responding with tears at my heart blistering stone until it is no more

hard granite melted mightily, raining does not delay departure

found it is in that gran granorum, corpus corporum, vita vitarum

gras y pas find a home in the heart of hearts

in the heat of heat it brands itself upon a miry, selfish and hopeful souladarity.

to blindly trust in hope of knowing.