Tanha yuhi kat jata safar agar tum sath na hote.....
manzil yuhi rhe jaati agar tum sath na hote....

dekhu to duniya mai saari magar....
ye rang dekh na pau....
jee kar bhi is duniya me....
adhoora bin tere rhe jau....

ye baarish yuhi tham jaati ager tum sath na hote....
ye duniya meri tham jaati agar tum sath na hote....

me jaanu to duniya ko kaeyi naam se.....
me jaanu mujhe bs tere naam se....
ye duniya na jaan paati mujhe....
jo ye lafz meri phechaan na hote....

ye naam yu he bikhar jata ager jo tum sath na hote....
hasti meri mar jaati ager tum phechaan na hote....

By : HR COLLECTION

[] Ldkiyo pr ** rha  h atiyachaar
[ ]
[] Hum dekh rhe hoke laachaar
[ ]
[] Ldkiya kr rhi desh k hr insaan se ek hi pukaar
[ ]
[] Jago or in aatiyachaariyo ka kr do vinaas
[ ]
[] Kya dalega is gungi bhri srkaar ka achaar
[ ]
[] Din pr din bad raha is desh me bhirstachaar
[ ]
[] Ab wo din aagya jb sbko uthana h hathiyaar
[ ]
[] Or krna h sbko milkr in jalimo ka satiyanass
[ ]
[] Ksm khate h  fir na hoga damini jsa kisi k sath
[ ]
[] Fir hr ldki niklegi ghar se hokr bilkul aajaad
[ ]
[]  ldkiyo pr ** rhe h atiyachaar
[ ]
[] Dekh rhe h hum hoke laachaar

DIL - DIL SE

DIL DIL SE ** JAYE KHFA THO KYA ** .
KHFA HOKE CHUUT JAYE THO KYA **.
SATH CAHA THA KISI APNE KA WO APNA HI SATH NAA AYE THO KYA **.
KADAM SE KADAM CLNA THA USKE SATH WO NAA CHAL PAYE THO KYA **.
HUM THO INTJAR KRTE RHE UNKA MAGER YEE INTJAR HI RHE JAYE THO KYA **.

1 nayi raah ko chunna chahta hoon,
sabse kuch hatkr kuch naya, kuch alag karna chahta hoon,

Ha tum sahi samjh rhe **

mein udna chahta hoon!!!

Bhut kuch paane ki tadap hai abhi mujhme,
Us tadap ko hmesha zinda rkhna chahta hu,
Haan mein udna chahta hoon..

Apne dil me chupe jazbato ko bayyan karna chahta hu,
Apne hunar or kabiliyat se apni pehchan bnana chahta hu ,
Haan mein udna chahta hoon...

Dusro ko sabit krne ke liye nahi apne liye jeena chahta hu,
Apne hatho ki lakeero me mehnat aur kamyabi ke rang bhar dena chahta ***,
Haan mein udna chahta hoon..

Ye alag rasta shyd abhi logo ko samjh nhi aaega,
Kai baar shayd mera mzak bhi bnaya jaega,
Pr fir bhi usi kaam ko puri mehnat, shiddat aur dil ke sath karna chahta hoon,
Haan mein udna chahta hoon..

Aasman ki bulandiyo ko choona chahta hoon
Lakho zindagiyo ke liye 1 misaal Banna chahta hoon...

Haan mein udna chahta hoon
Haan mein udna chahta hoon !!!!



By : Shivam Porwal

Ek rukha aasman ...ek pyasi jameen...esi hi kuch hamarI khaani.. Dooor h bhut..par nazro me basein.. Rutha ** ek to duja kaise hasse..!! Aankhe ** jab uski nam.. To bheege hum b hurdum.. Kosis bht ki nzre churane ki..par hum toh the Unke dil me phasse..!! Aankho se hi wo izhaar kr gye ..or hum sochte rhe ...unse khe kaise... !! Alag hme b kuch krna..tha...to kuch esa kia.. Maanga jo usne hath toh hmne <3 dil hi de dia !! Waqt b kitna bewafa h bin bole hi nikal.gya... Or wo ret ki trh meri muthhi se fisal gya..!! Wo sapna tha ya hqiqat BS m sochti rhti hu.. Uss hwa ka jhoka h wo..jiske sang m aaj b bahti hu !!!!

Abhi toh aadhi raat hi hai,
Din ka aana abhi baki hai

Abhi toh unki aankhon mai khona suru hi kiye hai, unki yaadon mai khona abhi baki hai

Abhi toh unke lafzo ko hi sun paa rhe hai,
Unki saanson ko sunna abhi baki hai

Abhi toh bas beete hue pal hi yaad aa rhe hai, aane wale kal ko samjhna abhi baki hai

Abhi toh khuda se lad pare hai hum,
Unhe manna ke tumhe pana abhi baki hai

Abhi toh bas tum humse dur hue **,
tumhra wapas aake hume gale se lagana
abhi baki hai.

Abhi toh aadhi raat hi hai,
Din ka aana abhi baki hai

Shabdo ke guldaste se likhte hain yaara,
Khuda kasam aapke bin dil nahi lagta humara.

Aap is dil ki dadhkan **,
Aaj fir se pukar rhe hain sun tou lo.

Suna hai dil ke rishtey bin kahe sab sun lete,
Laga lo kaske apni jaan ko gale se.

Aaj keh rhe hain mohabbat hai beinteha tumse,
Kabhi juda na hona humse.

Aapke bina jiya jaye na,
Maana hai tumhe khuda.

Aap par kabhi koi aanch na aane denge,
Har takleef khud seh lenge.

Shayar ** tum,
Ghazal hai hum.

Diya ** tum,
Baati hain hum.

Naina ** tum,
Roshni hain hum.

Khuda ** tum,
Bhakt hain hum.

Ek pal bhi na jaana dur,
Ye dil ** jayega chur chur.

Is duniya mein har koi bs rulana jaanta,
Aapse milkar ye dil ne seekha dadhakta.

Ek aap hi ** jeene ki wajah hamari,
Aapkebin ye naadan hai adhuri.

Maaf krna agar humse kabhi koi bhul ** jaye,
Aapke khatir hum apni jaan kurbaan kar jaye.

Aye hawa pahucha de un tak mere paigaam,
Unke bin hum hai gumnaam.

Har saans par bs naam hai tumhara,
Zindagi jeene ka ek hi maksad hai hamara.

Lafzon mein baya nahi kar sakte ,
Hum aapko kitna hai chahte .

Taqdeer hamari hai khushnaseeb,
Jo aap hain is dil ke itne kareeb .

Na hogi ab koi baat
Na hi hogi koi mulakat
Ab hum chalte hai
Bahut rhe liye ek bewafa ke sath

Tujhse na baat karne ka dukh toh hoga
Tujhse na milne ka afsoos bhi rhega
Par koi baat nhi
Jo hoga achhe ke liye hi hoga

Gussa na samjhna ise
Kyuki vo toh aata hi nhi mujhe
Kahi na kahi pyar hi hoga mera
Bas prkar alag hoga

Achha ab chalta hu
Khat chhota hi rehne deta hu
Apna aakhri pegaam bas yehi deta hu
Tumse milna ka toh nhi
Par tere salamat rehne ki duaa karta hu

Why do I even bother ?
Oh this is not a poem to sway you with romantic words, no infact i probably won’t share this with whom it belongs.
No more an apology, and reallity check for me!
Oh but that be said without malice for you!
Rather all I do is ***** things up!
Even though I’d try my heart to make sure to get it right with every intention to make your day!
I’d get it wrong I don’t even truly know where I went wrong!
But somehow hurt you i did!
Thats more painfully riviting ro my core far more than you pushing me away!
Many words come to mind from pathetic, useless, idiotic. Waste of human space, and many more, sad to describe anyone as this sadder realising this of oneself!
Should have got right the first time and save everyone the waste of time!
Have had to get my head around not doing anything they call stupid for so long, i honestly strugle to find a reason to carry on!  For what? Why?
And mostly cant say it would stupid, no be thei ly thing i can  think would make sense!
To hurt the one i love no matter what i do ill ***** it up!
Hurting you is an unbearable thought!
How could i live with myself?
Cant see how i can get rhrough that
Let alone this pain!
You mean so much to me!
Ive said is take a bullet for you! (Die for you)
But would rather live for you !
Now if you not there?
Cant see much hope at all !
No where! All rhe general reasons everyone would usually morivate you with, would hold so little weight!
This pain be out of this world i try but  cant expain this be of magnitudes earthquakes couldnt measure on the same scale!
And somehow i try find that reason in fear of hurting other loved ones!
Somehow i rather find hope!
Not the hope youd think though!
Oh no this is hope that my loved ones (famil)  will understand this pain and somehow forgive me for my intention be not to hurt  them, but to find ease finnaly!
Comfort knowing id be not the reson orhers will hurt tomorrow!
Yes dark and dismal thoughts!
Or are they?
Are they not in other ways considerate?
Oh oh i lean to think so..

Lets retrace
Back to amazing grace
Singin' ***** hymns
In front of the nations face
Wither it be
Conscious or nonconscious community
These fools be sellin' they
Compositions for free
Naw not me
Uh i pulled my bat and gat out
To let these fools know what we about ?
My goon soon to open up ya wombs
Til you last drop of blood now taste the tombs
Death aint strange things done changed
It wasnt long ago before i had much dough
Livin' the high life
Then a flash before my eyes
I seen my homies lose they life
Uh first he came with the pain
Had all eyes on him
Hail mary called em home
Ya know who im. Talkin' bout
Listen to the words of the song
Theres many more
I got my first buzz off purple haze
Uh jimmy souls still singin'
My hearts clingin'
On to all the *******
My minds everywhere but still cant
Find peace
So i pack a steel piece
Foreeal cuz fools be watchin' what ya say
Cuz if ya dont
Youll be dead naked or drugged out the next
Day
And the media knows rhe truth
But they exchange there souls for riches
Tiny grains of sand just like gold
And someday i will fold
**** the law and yall.tell.me what ye saw?
When i broke the jaws
Off lady liberty
The bit ch aint defendin' me
Or my homies
*****!!!!!! Its a conspiracyyyyy



They say im crazy and that my minds lazy
Cuz dont nothing phase me
Anymore i used to cry alot
But know im a grown man
So i hide alot
Of pain diggin' out my brain
Im growin' frantic
**** near insane
So im just letting yo know
Im on the urge of a ****
As freee will
Im going to defend mine
No heart for one time and many seen
The flat line
They claim they want peace
But all i see is war
Are we ever gonna even the score?
What happened with Michael
Wasnt that some bumshit
Everytime somebody get conscious
They quick to silence the prophets of the pulpit
And when they reach no one takes it
Serious they classify you delirious
This is serious
I aint playing no games
So ya need to quit snortin'
That in yo brain
Tv ******' up ya cognizance
And comprehension
Break the slavery chains
Free ya mental detention
And once ya get free
Youll see what i see
Money makes the world go around
Which in society is labelled as God
How odd?
Is that imagine that?
A world chasin' false reality
Givin they dreams to facade a fantasy
Sports
Is a joke how about we loot the courts
And hit em in the skirts
Bow down leave they ***** in dirt
I love pain
It make me focus more
Adrenaline rush til ya head touch
The floor of the concrete
Stiff with cold feet
Brace ya self in my shoes
What the **** would you do?
If the boys in blue was after you?
Protect all by means necessary
Like malcolm i see the cemetery
In the future
No fear in my soul im standing bold
So you fools keep on eyein' me
Your just proving my
Conspiracyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!! $

I cannot connect
When i am in a room full of people i hide myself away in boxes
I was told once that we accept rhe love we think we deserve but i feel that i deserve solitude
I cannot escape the grasps of this all encompassing self loathing, and hatred, and pity
I know that I cannot love you until i learn to love myself
But no one ever told me how impossible that would be

Kuch ajnabi si halchal..
Kuredd rhi hamare Dil ko pal pal!!
Najaane kya bayaan krna chahti h..
Shayad aane waali koi aandhi h, Jo Hume barbaad krna chahti h!!
Najjane kya Sandesh lekar aai...
Shayad nhi samjh paa rhe hum iski gehraai!!
Kuch andherapan sa chaa rha h...
Jo Hume shayad pal pal maar rha hai!!
Kuch to ajeeb baat hai...
Shayad aane waali ek kaali Raat h!!
Shayad koi apna hi hai iske piche..
Jo dhakel rha Hume sabse niche!!
Shayad qismat mein hai yahi Likha ...
Ki Hain hum uski life ka ek maamuli sa sikka!!
Jo shayad koi keemat nhi rakhta h...
Lekin vo shayad nhi jaanta ki ye sikka Uske liye Jaan Dene ki Bhi himaat rakhta h!!!!!
                                    - manvee chauhan

yea i got young honeys
that sell me drug money
aint nothin funny
******* like Gunny
boys intervene leave they necks runny
it dont matter the time crime
down for mine everytime
i pull the nine flat line
or machete
chop ya up like spaghetti
thwy wasnt ready
for yosef coming most of
rhe lyric so funky foggy
ya clear it periods
they cab see me drug slangin
mute those who lippin
tippin on my qs in case of set trippin
load them clips in
call a few of my partners
or disciples in
after couple shots of hen and gin
we put an end to sin and then
theyll remeber
the yosef cold as the december
month pull stunts
stay skunked and drunked
almost dunk
my mind into a pit of hell
my story neva fails
if ya crosss ill still prevail
living well
lookin for ghost to
come out they shell
ya cant bail im on ya trail
sell yeyo
cuz be fienin for yummy
crummy
for the love of that moneyyy!!!!


Foe the luv of them greens
**** and money
Got me chasin fantasies
I'm stuck in a daisy never me lazy crazy
As can be put yo chips my chips in
An nd together we could be rippin
Up mics smokin em like pipes
My yearn for these dead presidents
Might cost ya life and you'll be
Living with dead resident never hesitant
To make moves to show and prove
And you know who?
Be coming with 64s top low
Haters stay low or embrace the halo
Luv the smell of yeyo
To my nose takin major blows
Quick dose of reality my locality
Be in the pits of hell o well
Take a trip wirh me as I sail
Through ocean of money
So fools don't think it's funny
I'm coming up quick with them knots
Sells from fat rocks
Cuz I Be itching for the luv of the moneyyyyyyy

My eyes are swollen shut
I could never spell anyway
So I will just write the blurry words
Pushing their way out
Out of me

I am confused
Do rhe right thing be ignored
Do the wrong thing
Get his attention but he'll call you a *****
Cook and clean and be ready for love
It's simply not enough
Give less
give it to someone else
All his "feelings" come up
What the ****
I give up

Mattress on the floor
Dark circles under eyes
So hard to even read or write
I tend to make
Mistakes
At the end of my shift
But I don't tempt or kiss
Dreaming of phrases and moments
Proclaiming, undulating
In my spinning lofty
Rainbow colored head.

Blood soaked ****** floor
You wanted to see the light
In my eyes, my soul
Flicker on and off
Play an accordion
To the sounds of me
Letting go of all the
Wart covered toads.

There was a mural on the wall
My favorite of them all--
I wish the sun layed here next to me
His breath heavy, meaningful
The mural--a beautiful
Long wavy haired blonde woman
A red rose inbetween her fingertips
Her mouth like a violent stain
As a cowboy man, holding a guitar
Watched her back from afar--
I would stand at the foot of this mural
Memorizing and photographing
The contour and color, her red lustful
Dress
"I want to look like that somebody"
I would whisper to myself, at a young ripe age.

Scratches on my forehead
Leaping for rhe frisbee--too tired to recognize
Goodness
A *******, the sunshine gleams and grabs my hand
I'm at my best
When I waltz.

Alabama grass and money all around
Close my eyes--gypsy filled room
I committed the worst deed
As men at the bar taunt and tease
I hope you will always all remain my
Boys of the summer.

No threat, just kept
My heart, bulbous and so lively
But I need a hand to hang this
Painting, build this bed off the ground
I try to loathe
Correction.
Love
Me.
Forget cut up hats
And having my lips shushed
Holes in the wall next to my head
Or bribery filled with distant trips
That never existed
But thank you, thank you
For making me
The powerful *****
I am today.

I don't need any whiskey
Or glowing ****

Tonight.

anyone who has been in this position
will tell you:
              when you start reading philosophy
books, well...
   there's not much a psychologist
or a psychiatrist can really help you with...
after all: psychology is pop philosophy,
it's an off-shoot of philosophy,
       and that's not some pompous
affirmation of the subject matter,
            it just is, what it is,
                 blatantly it's rather problematic,
if the h'american education system
introduces philosophy in high school...
you should really discover philosophy
aged 21, at least 21...
        hell, alcohol and *** can come before,
as they naturally will...
but i have a sharp aversion with regards
to teaching teenagers any philosophy...
again: what an over-used term:
   "philosophy" - esp. in the climate
of self-help gurus...
                  philosophy is not a subject
that fixes ****... it complicates life...
   and when life is already complicated:
the only aid is to at least
fortify your mind...
                     rarely a life uncomplicated
with an uncomplicated mind...
but such life exists...
  nonetheless...
                  these days philosophy lies
in the shallow grave of psychology...
                 psychology just seems to be
a pursuit, a cascade of schematism,
    oh yes... schematism...
           schematism is the new scholasticism,
on note, that medieval system becomes
more and more appealing...
   without jumping to any conclusions...
hard to pick up random facts,
unshakeable facts for a befitting narrative...
i mean, the usual suspects are there:
the big bang, darwinism, world war II...
but there is no "real" narrative
      for so many of us...
                        unless from mouth to mouth...
but from a mouth you've never heard
speak?
          a distant voice that has no power
to resonate?
                 in my hands i hold two books...
history of germany 1918 - 2000...
           modern history is so dry...
                      people in this book are so
unimportant upon a retrospective reading,
even ****** is akin to a dwarf...
    since the "concern" is germany...
             history books, a great genre,
when dealing with individuals,
    esp. medieval individuals...
       for what is history?
                         an incremental seduction
by minor events toward a memorable
crux, a single: outstanding culmination
zenith / sigma...
                           the summa summarum
of here and now.
   will it be considered "****" to have
a fetish for the german tongue,
after all, west saxon, english,
   is the offspring of altmanndeutsche
(would i have a fetish for russian?
   i don't think so, i'm too entwined in english)
alles in allem auf hier und jetzt...
    again: heidegger's dasein seems to be
forward looking: rather than inward looking...

so, in my other hand?
     jim bradbury's biography of...
    philip augustus: king of france 1180 - 1223...
a mighty book... but more a mighty person
invoked...

what is to justify man's desire for happiness,
for the content life?
                        the more i ever felt the relief
of a contentment with life:
         the more it passed me by,
                     i was more or less asleep than
awake.

         eh! the current canvas of history via
the mainstream application bores me,
jumping between the two genesēs of
the big bang (yeah, in a vacuum, good luck
playing a violin up there,
with someone reciprocrating what
eventually looks like a mime) and darwinism...
it's congesting: custard for a brain -
      vanillesoße zum ein(e) gehirn -
out of the blue, a question -
    is it the same in german as in english,
regarding the indefinite article?
        i.e. a tree
                        an amber stone
         ein gehrin
                 or eine gehrin,
         the grapheme question...
  are two vowels allowed to mingle again?
   i.e.               æmblem
                       well... doesn't that become
a directive? an indirect article composed
of itself and a noun becomes definitive,
a definite article? as far as i'm aware...
there are no consonant graphemes...
sure... you can have SZ (SH) reduced to
a caron S (hiding the Z like a hebrew
might hide a vowel) i.e. Š...
                                       just a thought...

funny that... after my first psychotic
trip (mild drug, marijuana, so hardly
a point breaker) - i once studied chemistry,
i was semi-good at mathematics...
but then... my language skills / interests
exploded...
                     it became and has remained
a fixation...

  mind you, if you're still in high school
and are taking up majors,
and are thinking about furthering your
language skills?
               flat chance of you achieving
your satisfaction taking pure english lessons...
i took history...
     and history? well, you're still taking
an english major, but a major in a science,
at least all the history books have
a gratifying narrative...
              but in terms of history per se?
etymology...
                 how words arrived,
and how words morphed...
         guilty! i like to confine myself
to the sort of history i find to be bound
to a comprehesive retreat...
           big **** darwinism and all its
regressive ontological tactic of explanation
is one thing, the big bang is another thing
also...
               but at least i can return
to the history span that begins,
   and ends... with phonetic encoding...
the birth of thought,
when you could begin to shut up
without an empty bath's worth of the head,
but all the plastic ducks and foam
in your head, and itchy finger tips...
greedy buggers who could only be
satisfied with an alphabet,
and puzzles of words, and later sentences...

just give me a bottle of whiskey,
a decent album (akin to wooden shjips V)
and i'll sing like the kind of sparrow
you only hear at night...

and all this current ******* of "m'ah opinion",
my opinion this, my opinion that,
that "grand" constructions,
             surely it would be easier for
the phallus to find a ******
     than a tongue to find the dialectical
insertion point of the whole "my" opinion...
well, not really, every time i think of the act,
i always found the insert point
to be below my original intent,
what with women having
   to seemingly parallel coccyx bones
either side of their pelvis...
            the frontal deceptive coccyx
bone just above the v'ah-g-g...
            eh... amateur... even with prostitutes...
but this whole: it's my opinion!
it's my opinion! well, you'd be hopeful
to entertain a dialectic also,
apparently that's not the case:
give, "my" opinion insinuates:
     it cannot be debated, it cannot be changed,
no other person can entertain it,
what a primitive defence mechanism...
even poisonous frogs have
a better defence mechanism...
            again: i don't really own anything
in this world,
   i'm only guarding it, but i don't own it:
the everyday story of every single
antique...

  again, back into a "critique" of history
as a literary genre,
               i own a few first editions,
     the biography of philip augustus is one
of them: 1998 edition, first,
which is beside the point...
            i'm sure that life in medieval europe
was harsh...
but at least you had peacock characters,
rather than this, moden, bland c.c.t.v.
reality t.v. personalities...
              oh of course modern life
has all the perks... standing in line...
               but there's no way of replacing
an adventurous ambition with
complacency and comfort...
plus, they had such great names!
        peaches geldof (rest in peace)...
peaches?!
               compared to bertran de bron?
joscius?           conrad of montferrat?
  saladin & the ayyubid empire?
       hell, the smaller the tribe,
  the better the name...
             the angevins, the capetians,
the merovingians!
         now?        eh: zee fwench.
boo'ring...
   even a bull wouldn't charge at
the colour red even if you wanted him
to.

again: these days you can rely on
people who know the facts...
   and factoid checking is all we ever do
these days, being always "right"...
facts overshadow the story we're about
to tell...
            a bull charges at head:
because he / it sees a honing pointer
of: there's something "missing"...
              daltonism "vs." protanopia...
i once had a high school fwend who
laughed... at this catholic high school...
purple blazers were yellow to him...
who needs l.s.d. then?

       once again... a medieval history book?
as a genre?
                so many stories...
but there is no a priori factual check
impetus...
     the facts are a posteriori...
  what is a priori? the story...
                          and why wouldn't
philip augustus be overlooked?
given the fwench rhe-vou-lú-çion?!
****! T gone missing! T gone missing!
the H is a surd, but it shoved itself
past the cue, elbows high!      
          
  the battle of bouvines (bou-veens,
or: bou-v'ah)
                     depends...
                how selective we "must" become
to make choices from such
an impossible spectrum of events...
after all... muslims readily cite and remember
the crusades, even to this day...
hush hush the sacking of baghdad by
the mongol horde...
for the library was burned and
the skulls were stacked!
hush hush about the first defeat
of the mongols by the mamluk slaves
in egypt... who weren't mohammedians
to an extent of being slaves...

you almost stand there,
bewildered... what about the jihad
into mongolia...
well at least go and help your brothers
out in Xinjiang and Henan!
why isn't the botherhood attempting
to jidad their way:
jihad with the chinese communist party?

hush hush... let's adore the palm trees
lining avenue des Champs-Élysées...
let's sit back... procreate for a while...
eat the good food...
let's sit back and procreate...
the 2010s was a good year for fear and
tarantulla bite-numbing escapades...
let's just sit and procreate...
let's become lazy... chant with the Tehran
zindiqs ****'ites! deaf to h'america
and we've conquered London and...
just sit back... because... we've earned it...
we have satisfied ourselves with
the blood of the ***** (kuffar)...
allah the almighty will bless us in
our respite concerning those Persian
zindiqs! the people of the desert with but
one book have conquered!

true indeed: where a jihad would be
even deemed "justifiable"...
in cha-cha-china... where muslims are
being persecuted... London! London!
we need more in London...
well this whole: muslim brotherhood
and the whole muhammad ali thing...
malcolm x... only worked...
but this is the chinese doing it to their own...
no need to intervene and bring
the good people back into the ummah...
    
  hush hush, hush hush, hush hush...
cherry picking history, are we?
    well...            let's cherry pick together!
look at this garden of time:
plenty of picks, plenty of beginnings!
at this point: a certain amount of history
can become fiction,
and not in a bad way...
it can become the basis for "studying"
archetypes...
             funny how time treats those
who experience it...
    it mutates them...
                   and to no purpose
of appealing to the general public,
  so much can and has happened in my life:
and yet...
         nothing is worth the curator's knowledge
of commentary,
  the status of laureate:
   i'd sooner be found, bound to the pleasure
of shooting dead ducks floating in
the water with a slig-shot...
       than, whatever, the aspiration for
the post, deserves;
  g.c.s.e. allowed poetics can deal with that...

again:
   why is poetry so overtly scrutinißed?
no one makes so many notes regarding prose...
but then poetry is being analyßed?
out come the scalpels, the weights,
the whole forensic scrutiny!
        10 words are expanded into
a 10,000 word essay...
      gay science my ***...
                   it's the most over-scrutinißed
form of language,
no wonder people are intimidated
by it... who would want to write in a medium
that has so much scrutiny hovering
above it: and no, it's not a ******* halo
or a laurel wreath!

           there's only so much meaning
that can be derived from a sentence,
before the pun, dries out,
  before the metaphor, dries out,
before all these bogus over-stressed
ars poetica identifiers via "technique" become
exhausted, and what you're left with,
is the ancient art of narrative...
  
  yeah, sure sure, i too wish my narrative
"skills" were better...
             i'm streuengehirn...
              if i really wanted to write
a ******* mathematical rubric of:
1 x 1 = 1
1 x 2 = 2
1 x 3 = 3...            i'd be currently writing
a YA vampire romance trilogy...
do i look like someone who's going to write
a YA vampire romance trilogy?!

           eh... back when you could respect
a homosexual akin to william burroughs...
back to a tomorrow's worth of respecting
a homosexual akin to douglas murray...
   or that gay sitcom starring
           ian mckellen & derek jacobi...

                       two old **** talking:
        eloquence and ettiquete...
                     now, that was fun...
i too wish some perv shoved his ****
through my ***, picked up my hands...
and transformed by idle tongue
to present a, stage performance worthy
of an encore...
                             alas...
   given the current climate...
          i'm stuck with the sort of gays
the old gays would probably be ashamed of...
so much for the adventure and
          the... courage... of feeding a pleasure
of "something" going in, rather than coming out...

irritable bowel syndrome from time to time,
i honestly enjoy taking a **** too much,
so much so that i find the male
****** to be overrated.

post- scriptum musing:

favourite past-time?
catching a mosquito by the *****
while wearing boxing gloves.  
  
don't know how drunk doesn't
translate into shy...
or how the former translates
into an antidote for the latter
(&
   also
     bound to italics) somehow...

a fool's idle wondering
equating itself with
all the world
   and the men invested in it:
ambitions, adventures,

            so... who's going to follow
suite in gratifying this "grand"
errand?
             surrounded by unshakeable
cliffs of "knowledge" of facts...
what story is to be told,
without a fear of plagiarißm?
since there is a fear:
it implies... the story is not worth
passing on,
not unless the newly-born arrive
and are born from a foreign
body, not alligned
   to the organic allignement
of continuity...
  pass what may pass...
               once again: arriving
at the jargon babylon deposit of
the fuel for a will to live,
                             as shared universally.

Your being used by subliminal clues
The media leaves you
Lost and confused bemused
By topics using our labor for profits
Government been aware
Straight truths no dare as i stare
Down into the valley of darkness
Killed off the old me but theres no carcass mark this
The day and age turned the spiritual page
What i saw my soul got enraged and engaged
Into a mental state of mind
That the average couldn't understand
If i told them mines
Dreams im speaking on
Everybody around me a mime
Silenced brains make for an easy drain
Got pharmaceutical drugs
Pushing legal *******
To the grain
But dont want ya smoking marijuana
But if i smoke marijuana
Then im a gonna
Loading penitentiaries to profit fat greedy wealthy
Elitist im sick of this
World we living since the first planted sin
In the garden Of Eden
Who do you believe in?
Is it Christ Horus Allah or Buddhas teaching
While they got books placed
For you read in if you in
To the problems that arise
Youll see the got us hypnotize
By the idiot box droppin' everyday
Delays say we on our way
Up but its going reverse
**** the curse the struggles getting worse
Sooon jobs well be in a hearse
And replace by robots
Industrialism was really meant to be a prison sharpen your visions
Maybe you can see the decisions
Made by the whitehouse
Pushing us closer to rfids if you don't believe me?
Check all over ya cars is chipped
Debit to credit cards chipped
Animals chipped electronic devices chipped
Now they trying to get us chipped
Fools tryna play God end up on the side against all Odds
Play the game carefully yea
Its like moves of chess or monopoly
Taking all properties
How is there is price on earth
When everything in the open is free
But then came along man
Yeah i mean demi god fallen angles
Giving mankind jingles and dangle
With unknown spirit cuz they fear it
Ignorin' instincts causin' trama to grow
But rather follow cash rolls
Only to take bad toll
Down the valley of deathrows
Add the bottom of the abyss
It aint no shadows just demons that flow
And go in and out ya temple
Mankind soo simple
Thinking they better then universe
But nature always wins just check rhe curse
God showing creations like roses sprouting up out of cracked concretes
Lets me know humans already in defeat
And build over just fr it to happen again
We waged with sin soon to end
Cant wait til the world crumbles
Watching how many spirits tumble
And become humble
Beg for redemption
But God will reject your soul aint no exemptions
Whooaaa

i have crashed in to the middel of the desert. i have lost hope since theres nothing out here to save my words to write my fear of dying. i feel like im spinning in my own memories that fade away. i keep seeing the same patch of rocks. i dont know but i need the cool shad befor i fall over. i could keep walking but theres no chance of sivilization so maybe ill scream and go crazy.  i keep walking the sand rocks. but its just the circles that trapme in my own insaine liitle game. the wild greens i ate have mad me additted to rhe barries witch bring a high.  the heat grows stronger. i even wonder who i am since theres no name to even know me. the san feels nice on my feet but the sun blisters my patciants its own self.  i feel like i am going in cicles  when i dont know who the **** i am. my madness has grew and my addition to the barries made time stop.

In the middle there is a black stone
With white lines written on it:

This will give you a new name
And new hope.

And as the pretty sound of these words fades, i hear a new sound.

It is the bright laughter of two children in rhe rain -

And the light begins to shine infinitely

hopefully the cage around my heart
finally (lets) me go free tonight
my feet are ready to (run)
and sprint and fly
(away) from all the things
that have me stapled to rhe ground,
i am not put (together) like i should be anymore

Har pal yh baat satati hai
Aaene hme fir dikhati hai
Bewafae ni hmari yh hai
Magar kehe na sake ki tujhe ab v cahteh hai
Tune waadeh kiye the waqt dene ka hme
Magar fir na ske apna hme
Mauka v diya or dastur v hmne
Par sayad kismat m na tha saath hmara
Cahat tu hi jo rhe mera
Pr mere mohabhat pe na hoga koe hq tera

Before I start this

Thank you,

I used to be so helpful

I need to call my momma

I think I need a girlfriend

Time to talk to papa

I used be so different

Now I know the problem

Maybe I should love her

But where's the issue

Maybe I should bleed

But I am not a cutter

I love the pleasure sensation

But not the feeling of slicing my skin like butter

On a summer day

A wonderful day

Through my skin with an iron dagger like a tragic story

I need to get my ****

All together probably

I need to stop my procrastination

Well maybe I'll start tomorrow

Where are all my virtues

Behind the sins I follow

This is not the issue even the though rhe consequence follows in sequential order
Bordered on my persons if the action do more than my conciousness can fathom i shall falter with this ******* world

That's why papa said my **** is int he dirt

But I do not like cabbage

Maybe a couch potatoe

why does it even matter

Before you go to the next step

Please read the disclaimer

In this day and age of digital things

I got everything I really should need????

Koi mujhe hi aake bata de kya h mere man ka hal? Kyuki me bezuban hu.

Koi mujhe hi aake bata de ki me kya chahti hu, kyuki me kayar hu

. Koi mujhe hi aake sikha de apne liye ladna  kyuki me mashroof hu apne khilaf gawahi dene me.

Koi mujhe hi aake dhund de mujhe,
Rasta jo bhatak chuki hu
Aur rah milne wale log bhi jaha pohchna na h waha ka pata sahi nai bata rhe

Pata nai roshni aur kitni door h, shayad koi dur se batti dikha de ki manzil waha h

Koi mujhe bata de ki hadson ki wajah se
Andr sab kuch bikhar chuka h ya abhi kuch baki h

Koi to ** jo mujhe bata de ki jo me hu aur jo me hona chahti thi, in dono ko kese ek karu

H koi esa raahi? Jo mujhe hi dekh kr bataye me kitna dur aa chuki hu, kyuki meri raahein to dhundli dikhti h mujhe

Aao aur mujhe batao meri kimat kitni h iss safar me.. kyuki mera hisab bigad diya h duniya ne