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At Year Ninth We Keep on Walking on the Path of Humanics






The Humanicsxian: October 09: Issue 05
|| ΕΛ || Elleesium Group of Publications || The Humanion || The Ellaarch Humanion ||  The Humanicsxian ||  The Humanion Portable  || ΕΛ ||

|| The Humanion: Year Ninth: The Elleesium: Monday: October 23: 2023 || Humanics: To End the Savagery Called Capitalism ||

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First Published: September 24: 2015

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Poetry Arkive

Humanicsxian Economics

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|| The Humanion Poetry  ||  The Candle Won't Blow Out: William Shakespeare 2016  || October The Poetry Day 2015 ||

Poetry Poetrimore October The Poetry Month
Poetre London Poetry Festival Poetry Pearl Poets' Letter Archive World Poetry











Dear Aumol As If Many Lives I Had Not Written to You

























Tell Them of This Magic of Love: For All George Floyds and All Breonna Taylors of America



















The First Songs Following Many a Death: ‘Death Shall Have No Dominion in Life’ But Only Love Shall Always Eternally Find Home: Sunday: May 24: 2020: Munayem Mayenin

|| Sunday: May 24: 2020 || We can only express our infinite gratitude and thankfulness for coming through many a death over the last almost-three months, suffering furiously violent and aggressive illnesses combining their mercilessly relentless assaults one after the other to bring an end to this insignificant human existence, COVID-19 to Pneumonia and Further Complications. And all that happened in the enforced social abandonment where one was left alone, abandoned, to get on with it, all on one’s own, absolutely, all alone: there is nothing left for one: that is the saddest and cruellest of truth out of these three months. Except, there was the Old Santiago in Ernest Hemmingway’s The Old Man and the Sea: Like him, all, any and every human soul shall forever be and remain: that, what can be destroyed to dust but can never be defeated! The people of this United Kingdom have proven this in this enforced social abandonment: nothing can ever defeat the human soul and the human spirit, despite the endless march past of innumerable deaths, tragedies, sufferings, sorrows and hardships. These are some of the things, some of the songs, that I have written, that would resonate with the wonderful people and humanity of this United Kingdom and of the world, that I would like to publish today as a contemporary poet to celebrate this human existence and this human life: let it echo through each human soul across these British Isles and across the world: ‘’Death shall have no dominion in life’’ But only Love shall always eternally find Home: Maya be and Maya do for Humanity is an infinity unfolding itself: Munayem Mayenin: Sunday: May 24: 2020

COVID-19: A Sonnet For All Souls Fighting to Get Back Home

And a letter contains a tear-written text written
From a waiting room where people waited to go
But the soul that tore away in tears could not do
So it writes in tears marring the message in cries

Why do you cry soul why do you tear unless you
Hurt unless you find your eyes blurred with hot
Fluid blurring the view but why does it do it this
Tearing apart why does it hurt that it's impossible

To breathe for you love and all that you have and
All that you are show you that you do that you do
That you love for you have nothing but these gems

To tell you to show you to take you home to love
For these tears alone form your home when you
Can not go home touching their salt you are home










Sonnet January Fourteen 2019




















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The Cutty Sark: Ever Eternally in A-Green
Burn may you do me unknowing what indomitable is
Tear may you do me crushed may you see me as you
Forget what eternities layer my invincible nano-spread
Shredded you throw me or spread me on earth as dust

For know you not me as indestructible as photon-call
I am Humanity's photon-steel so that I go so that I sow
Rhythm in my rise beauty in my fall water or fall there
You find me flowing as I fall rising as I glow-go sowing

Eternally raise I mine own self back up in the heavens
For the Old Man and the Sea speaks to the sea all blues
For the young soul seeks the sea flowing the river goes

Not knowing how far goes the root clutching the darks
Infinities fathom this dot where resides this humanity’s
Core name me The Cutty Sark ever eternally in a-green


Munayem Mayenin: September 26: 2019

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O My Durdle Door

Here is my Durdle Door that is always open while shut in silence
Do not move nor whisper but do hold onto the flickering flames
Of shimmering stars far away onto the widening horizons and do
Let the lights make arks over your eyes glistening an awe and look

Out to the weaving sea beneath the thickening darkness to look in
Feel the earth rising up over your skin as if a living thing and hear
The air hydrated soft flowing through the whispers of the night
That fall into your heart’s well of glistening lights and rise echoes

Of lights that you can not hear but let flow out and looking on see
As if with infinity’s eternal eye seeing all-ways abound hundreds
Of billions of firefly flickers lanterning the all-progressive heavens

On the interminable cascading enigma of the dark and the incessant
Galaxies and galaxillations sparkled by diminishing fireflies and say
O My Durdle Door how far infinities do you go and hold and behold

Munayem Mayenin: August 10: 2019

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So This Sieve





















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Achilles' Cardiac Fall


























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|| April 06: 2018 || ά. The Humanion was first published on September 24, 2015 and has been run, since that day, on a complete voluntary basis without any 'formal' or 'constituted' manner or form and, it was run on as a Human Enterprise, which is an idea of Humanics, in which, ownership is replaced by belongingship and, thus, in a Humanical Society, no one owns anything but everyone belongs to the whole as the whole belongs to everyone lawfully and equally and, it neither believes in nor makes money but human utilities, needs, aspirations, creativity, imagination and dreams are served without money, where everyone works and creates for all others as all others create and work for all others, thus, bringing in meaning and purpose to life along with it come natural justice, equality and liberty, that establish a true civilisation within the Rule of Law. And in one word, this system of human affairs management is called, Humanics and a society that runs itself in humanics is called a humanical society. Today, we have begun the process of 'constituting' this Human Enterprise, which does not exist in the current system, but the next closest thing to it, that exists in the UK Law is Social Enterprise. Therefore, today, Friday, April 06, 2018, we are beginning Regine Humanics Foundation, that is the 'Agency', that will lead, run, manage and develop everything, that The Humanion has been trying to do.

Regine Humanics Foundation is established by the Thinker, Author, Poet, Novelist, Playwright, Editor of The Humanion, Festival Director of London Poetry Festival and a Humanicsxian: hu: maa: neek: tian: One, that believes in, lives and exists by Humanics, Mr Munayem Mayenin, of London, England, United Kingdom. Mr Mayenin says, ''Humanics is a vision; people, may, call it, utopia, we, call it our Humanicsovicsopia; Humanics. Humanics is our philosophy, our faith, our conviction, our resolution, our way of existing, thinking, being and doing: to seek and try to do so in the determination that all we must do and be is to exist to advance the human condition. People, readers and agencies and organisations, from all across England, Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and the whole of the United Kingdom and Australasia, Africa, Asia, Europe, North and South America, from all walks and strata of life, have supported our endeavours, supported The Humanion and The Humanion Team, who volunteered their time to run things, since the beginning of The Humanion and long before that, when other things, that are now part of The Foundation, were developing. Nothing has changed in terms of the nature and value of what we have been seeking to do.''

''But the founding of The Foundation brings it all in a solid foundation so that we can keep on building this 'vision' so that it keeps on going regardless of who come to take the vision-mission of The Foundation forward. The Foundation runs along with time and along with the flowing humanity. This is the dream, this is the vision, this the hope in founding this Foundation. And, in this, we hope and invite all our readers, supporters, well wishers and all agencies and organisations to support our endeavours to build something, a Human Enterprise, which we are in the process of registering as a Social Enterprise, as a Community Interest Company, working for the common good of the one and common humanity. No one makes or takes profit out of The Foundation, which now runs The Humanion and everything else, that is part of it. The Foundation, once registered, will have an Asset Lock, which means that in any event, should The Foundation dissolve itself, all its existing assets shall go to a similar Social Enterprise. Therefore, we invite everyone to support The Foundation, support The Humanion in whatever way they can. And, there are endless number of ways people and organisations can support The Foundation and The Humanion.'' ::: ω.

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The Solitary Reaper: William Wordsworth



Behold her, single in the field,
You solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts, and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chant
So sweetly to reposing bands
Of Travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian Sands:
No sweeter voice was ever heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of today?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again!

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;
I listened till I had my fill:
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

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