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Ajax Kallistrate

good morning sunshine

I thought serendipity was a dragon.
Now I wonder if it's God.

Or is it a lush garden where quiet minds go to rest?

Premise: the universe is an equation.
(I dislike negations. I avoid using negations.)

Action, reaction.
of dispersion
by a single degree and arms
open to encompass your desires.

Swing and a miss!

Monkey bars decode no drama
thinner than a fingernail
slipped beneath
the edge

I lift my eyes.

cloud cover parts to reveal green leaves
and a street sign, the rushing by of
could haves and never weres.

I turn to you, and we meet
once more, where
we are, one,
let joy
call us home.

June 9, 2024

the littlest one cries out

The pale soft things regurgitated
by blind cave-dwellers float
among the wreckage,
bobbing as the drain
burps, colorless
fluids pickled
clean of
proteins slip
away beneath
flood lamps

agitators, mouths
agape in devouring
grins to slurp up a soup
of mismatched uncradled

doll's legs,
pippin toes,
tiny translucent nails,
threads of peach fuzz,
unskinned onion layers,
blind beads and
snail shells,

nameless fragments unloaded
by steady professional hands
that were once nubbins
themselves, divided
now by an ocean
of sanctified
glass and

an anesthetic to forget

the unnumbered wavelengths
that have passed through
flesh in watery echoes
through every
the bottled
souls swiming
inside their
and time,

each one
reaching out
to grasp air and sun
and a voice he recognizes
as belonging to him
and him

until today.

this one among a million
tethered lineages
reaches into
the future
to grasp
genetic fealty
become a constricting
throb of want, an
excess of need

cry to the one
he recognizes as
his and his alone

is met with silence,

unholy exchange,
trading blood purge
for unfathomable loss,

such a pitiable thing!

him and her, broken
as the world is broken,

insides spilling out into space,

a crucifixion pinned to a scarecrow
keeping vigil over a barren field,

a scapegoat flayed alive by
the parasite's tongue,

a wound that ruptures

mother from child,
child from family,
family from race,
race from nation,
nation from God.

bow your heads!

the littlest one cries out,
unrelieved, unavenged,

no stone for
his littlest

no eulogy for
his littlest

no mark for
his littlest

bow your heads!
the littlest one cries out,

a calf butchered in the name
of the red heifer
that drives
the world
to its
knees with
unending terror,
a notch in the bedpost
of esoteric wizards whose
hate for the human race
knows no bounds,
a morsel of
unsullied life
savored piecemeal
by vulpine thieves armored
about with grifters hiding beneath
a thousand thousand names.

how vast a power it is to slaughter
the child of your enemy before
he can even be born!

bow your heads!

you, woman!
your womb opened first by the grace
of natural order, second by the filthy
claws of demonic deceivers,

who told you that killing a child
was liberating,

who told you that killing a child
was healthcare,

who told you that your mass of cells
was superior to his mass of cells,

will you stab him yourself, prick his littlest
heart through with your own cowardly needle?

will you pry open his littlest mouth and pour
in the poison that stops up his blood?

will you cut off his sustenance and watch
his littlest body starve, denied the natural
birthright that you and you alone are
granted the gift to provide?

bow your head!

even that littlest single cell reaches backwards
into each mother monkey's unbroken
mitochondrial legacy, a telescoping
panorama of genetic victors
that requires no
heartbeat, that
means of creation,
that cannot be broken
except in death,

is yours and yours alone
to bequeath.

bow your heads.
honor and receive truth.

bow your heads beneath
the weight of this
that has
claimed our
ancestral inheritance
and left us as we were.


until we reach out into the darkness
and recognize each other as ourselves.

until we pass through fear and
recognize our enemy as our enemy.

until the littlest one cries out and
his voice resonates through millennia
to touch our primal hearts.

until no compromise slices through
the bonds that have defined us
since our first origin.

until hands that would destroy
enclose instead, to comfort,
to shield, to guide, to love,
to bloom with.

until the breath of liberty fills our lungs
and we lift our voices to
speak the truth,

to honor
nature and God,
as a family, as a nation.

bow your heads.

Be humble,
pay attention,

have faith
that we will come home.


June 9, 2024

Sunday morning call-outs

In a world where parasites
make the rules,
see you
as less than
human, parasites

who contribute nothing
to society,

who arbitrarily decide
the value of your labor,

who tell you what to eat,
what to wear, what to do,
feel, and think,

who want to gatekeep reality
from birth to death,

who profit from your ill health,
your suffering, your confusion,
your want, your despair,

when those are the people
who make the rules,

you must

live life on your own terms
wherever and whenever
you can.

May 27, 2024

five days a week

i must be as strong as a man
and understand i am not
a man, five days a week.

i get to be a woman
for two in a dress
and a scrunchie,
with a spoon
in my hand and
a ring on my finger.

the locus
the focus,
the hope and
the faith,

all seven days
under the lamps,
under the sun,
undone and whole,

i'm she for you
and them for all
the last days of
my life.

May 26, 2024


The masters of the universe
think they're God because
they destroy lives so easily,
turn entire societies into
traps that crush and grind
families to dust.

But they are not God.

God creates.

Zionists can only destroy.

February 1, 2024

bleating heart

The new age will open like the first sun
rising over a pile of corpses.

The pure bloods shall inherit a
second enlightenment.

Let them drive the rats out of every corner.

Let not one remain to seethe and fester
like a boil on the face of the earth.

Let not one remain to leech away the fruits
of their labor.

Let not one remain to become many and
poison the future with
yet another war,
yet another genocide,
yet another moral bankruptcy,
yet another outrage against all good graces.

Let the pure bloods, without even
a memory of us,
No more.

Us and them
You and them

We are the walking dead.
We are from a softer world that no longer exists.

Never mourn for the weak, the gullible.
Sheep are bred to be slaughtered.

We are no longer ascendant. Let us go.

Be true and without remorse for what
you have to do to save the human race
from its own vilest heart.

It's too late for lambs to learn;
our fate is already upon us.

What's a consumer?
A ruminant animal.

We are worth nothing.
Spare nothing for us.

No mercy from those who must be merciless.
Wolves have only so much patience.
Tolerate nothing.

"Don't teach them this."
Sheep teach sheep false history.

Ours was the idol.

Let yours be true.

May 10, 2024


I don't know anything.
I don't have anything.
I don't want anything.

I don't know the time.
I don't have a cigarette.
I don't want food stamps.
Or drugs or whatever else.
You're selling or shilling.
Or grifting.

I know times are hard.
I know you're a dollar short.
I know you've been on the street.
Or a shelter.
Or prison.

I'm not out here at 6am
To talk to you
To entertain you
To supply or to buy
To be your new best friend
Or your pal or your bro
Or your sister or your


I'm out here at 6am
In the cold
In the heat
In the rain
In the snow
To wait for a bus
To get to work
To stand on my feet all day
To earn a wage
To feed my family
To forge my own way
Into a future
I can't see
I can't predict
I can't shape with anything more
Than these two hands
These two feet
These few dollars.

Back away.
Back off.

You're on your own.
You're not mine.

I'm not yours.
I'm not here
For you
For any of you.


May 10, 2024


I don't run to catch the bus.
I run because I'm free.

May 10, 2024


What we had was a fairy tale,
a story written and performed
by monsters, a shadow play of
elaborate detail, a hero's
narrative told over
and over

atrocities in their name,

for their purposes,
our true history

our very names lost.

Who are we?

They gave us a brand, long ago.
Now they're rebranding us,
discarding what's no
longer useful
to them,
cutting away
whole family lineages.

They are a false god.

They are a millstone
around the necks of
a hundred million

May 10, 2024

divide, conquer

Jews are dividers.

They cleave in two what should be one,
and mediate between them.

For profit.
Social coin shavers.

This is how they control the individual.
And when they control the individual,
they control the society, and
when they control the society,
they control the world.

Wherever you find a thing divided
against itself, you'll find a Jew
in between, profiting.

They stand between you and reality
(news, entertainment, video games,
virtual reality, smartphones, tech).

They stand between you and your own
body (doctors, dentists, psychiatrists,
pharma, advertisers, industrial food,

They stand between you and reproduction
(in vitro, frozen eggs, birth control, abortion,
porn, infertility).

They stand between you and wealth
(taxes, fees, fines, loans, interest, credit
score, The Fed, banks, inflation).

They stand between parents and children
(hospital births, schools, foster system, child trafficking, queer/trans religion).

They stand between men and women
(feminism, divorce, gay marriage,
working mothers, men working
long hours).

They stand between you and God,
self-discovery, nature, truth (AI).

Feed the parasites and we suffer.
Starve the parasites and we thrive.

We must squeeze them out.
We must reunite.
We must become whole.

May 10, 2024

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