Simon Flynn

AMORE ME SEMPER
AMA ME VERUM
POSTHAC VENTRUS TUUM
NOS VITA UT SEQUENS
ITA IN CAELO AETERNA
ITA NOS IN CAELO VIVIT

AETERNAM ET MERA VITAM
A DEI AD CAELO ASCENDIT

Simon A Flynn, PEYTORILL

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In 1994 I sustained a chemical brain injury. I have an accelerated prefrontal cortex and right temporal lobe damage resultant in spatial, temporal and lingual cognitive difficulties. The interface between my centered yet accelerated thought process and my surroundings is damaged, and, pharmacotherapy necessary for controlling my illness sedates and sublimates me.

I live a simple life at home and remain primarily local to my habitation most every day. I have been seeking a wife for decades, and yet only in recent years have I mastered my devices and created PEYTORILL.

I believe that the foundational premise of Christendom is a structured incarnation of souls, for the ascendancy promised by Jesus Christ

•••

A POEM FOR AEGLE
Fish Hawk

“Haliaeetus Leucocephalus”

“AE AE AEsculapius of the aether…
…originates as archAEopteryx”

The AEther’s archAEopteryx reigns…
aloft, see in dreams… which AEsclepius sustains…
for nature’s height hath caduceus brains…

So the AEther’s archAEopteryx must…
rove the air, to tell… in trust…
adeptly weaving worlds… with words! …and while weaving… proceed thus…

past warps, till woofs… are producing… weft…
by ginning thoughts… joining right and left…
quixotically native… and… in… too…
mind’s anticipant weir… and seldom through.

Read and written, into minds…
transitioning thee through these riparian times…
duplicitous, anadromous, parties mine…
by stories, lore, in science, in time…
proceeding… in studies… voraciously fine…
crux on the scene of most difficult brine…
from whence the hominids chart; these the sapient times…

venturing from the silvic heights…
upon this cloth; this firma terre,
cried plane versus sphere in sacred rites…
of mountain, meridian, land, sea and air
to order, learner… deciphering, tare
and place these cephal talons there…
into that sub limnol lair…
not thee? …and I… I… with cross to bear?

This and thus the learned yearner.

For born of open spaces, dreams,
where wanderers think… and… spirits seem…

The hearts and minds! …
of yearning persons…
thus:
A nation, built, with arch, with dome,
stands on lands, grains, timbers… lone
and free in mind this heart to roam
hath found thy dream, thy name, thy home.

-Simon A. Flynn