be deemed creative and for that matter can any by product from Artificial Intelligence be classified as authentic, which to this contemplative, furtive and intuitive literate opportunistic rational Übermensch (contrary to popular rumor NOT a mensch who doth ride an Uber), but rather Übermensch a German word translating to "Superman" or "Overman" coined by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche in his 1883 book Thus Spoke Zarathustra representing an ideal human who creates their own values, transcends conventional morality, and embraces life fully without relying on religion?
Far back as memory of mine can recollect remembrance of things (thee antithesis of perspicuous) past, and (much as I dislike copying/pasting text from Google similarly applying (apply for a visa vis) versatile noun used to refer to any object, concept, event, or entity that does not have a more specific or readily available name, an essentially catch-all term for anything that can be thought of, perceived, or possessed, just like the words and definitions of prophets already written on the subway walls) some ambiguous, conspicuous, and others grandiloquous mellifluous, and unctuous.
Across the millenniums of time
abstract and metaphysical questions
teased the dynamic,
constantly shifting neural networks,
primarily driven by the Prefrontal Cortex
taxing the ex number of shades
of gray matter housing the brain
within the cranial cavity
(or cranial vault)
a specialized, fluid-filled space
located in the upper, back,
and top part of the skull
known as the cranium.
Questions asked - some rhetorical
piqued yours truly id est me,
when just a mere whipper-snapper,
albeit rather extremely introverted
strawberry blond little boy,
whose simple mind
chuck full of berry many queries
similar to fore-runners
of Homo sapiens,
whose consciousness expanding
approximately two fisted size
locus of thought
stymied inchoate proto-humans
dead in their tracks,
especially when a bipedal hominid
inexplicably, momentarily, and suddenly
stupefied halted in their tracks courtesy
existential "a riddle,
wrapped in a mystery,
inside an enigma variation"
concerning self reflections,
which ofttimes stump me,
an absolute zero runt of the mill
one among many
within the madding crowd
of genus and species
purportedly, supposedly, and woefully
below average height and weight
due to fluke of genetics
which gifted me being smaller,
less experienced, or lacking resources
and without fail, the token scapegoat
relentlessly bullied ever since being
a severely socially withdrawn
introverted new kid
on the (chopping) block
who didst fear putting up my dukes
despite late mother of mine
encouraging her sole son
to deliver a what for
towards those vicious nasty brutes,
whose fists rained one blow after another
upon body electric of yours truly
threatening me with verbal brickbats
cuz I appeared defenseless
and if uttered a peep
the feeble effort
heard with a pronounced nasality
directly linkedin
to a submucous cleft palate
(essentially a split uvula -
fitted for a prosthesis by
Doctor Mohammad Mazaheri
(often known as "Dr. Mo")
an Iranian prosthodontist,
who served for more than 50 years,
he joined the Lancaster
Cleft Palate Clinic in 1952
as a resident in maxillofacial prosthetics
and dedicated his career
to the comprehensive care
and research of craniofacial anomalies.
Without a shadow of a doubt
afflicted with aforementioned
maxillofacial mutation served
like manna to those goons
served an objectionable dose
of wrath perhaps
courtesy a foo fighting beastie boy
thug, who got his jollies
indiscriminately doling out
a Hawaiian punch
whoever happened to be
insubordinate to grand Poobah
and id est in direct trajectory
where a knuckle sandwich
happened to be thrust.
I write from experience
being on the receiving end
of lurching balled fist,
or at least threatened
to be within direct path of storm
viz hitted courtesy "Sturm und Drang"
(often misspelled or misremembered
as sturmendrung), a German phrase
that translates literally
to "storm and stress"
exhibited courtesy The Incredible Hulk,
who dwelled within the hall
of the Mountain King,
intolerant of any slight
immediately interpreted
as an egregious insult,
cuz Homie don't play that way.
-
Author:
poet2rhyme4tommorrow (
Offline) - Published: July 2nd, 2026 07:36
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 0

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