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Laura Palmer Mar 2016
It’s like a morning, yet perfect among the rest of mornings. Anticipating every raindrop that runs to my roof to the tip of the land, it was such a beautiful experience to flow like water and go further. My mind was filled with unchanging cars, rebuilding crops and forfeiting schedule. My eyes are withheld of its beauty inside. Clock is ticking so fast, like a running bullet train, sun is waving through the cloud, and the world stops crying. I love rains, I love cloudy, I love the grayish atmosphere that filled my world, I love darkness because it embodies my unspoken tongue, and it simplifies my fortress to be in. Sun is rising so high that my eyesight couldn't contain.

What happen to my black apparatus? My darkness turns into brightness. Everything blooms; everything starts to leave like it’s their own kingdom. I have seen all the different kinds of bird that migrating to the south coming from north, I have seen the umbrellas shut down; I have seen my world like this. Like a bridges of love, like a pigeon that fly so high, like what Victoria’s Secret has revealed. I’d walked through the way to see the marine, to see the mother of this incredible nature, I’d sing to them the Cinderella’s theme-song, I’d dance with the waving trees, and I’d join the everlasting joyfulness of the nature.

In love, yes I do! Walking down the hill, I saw something. I saw a yellowish petals, brownish center and greenish stem. Oh so lovely! Oh so glorious! What the hell on earth are you doing here my dear precious? You’re too good to be true, I saw a sunflower. I saw a plant that my eyes have never been in- captured like this. I saw a plant that is connected to the Sun that had change my life, that had replace my darkness into lightness, that had adjust the saturation of my eyes. I saw a plant that needs the sun to grow, and I saw myself. I saw a plant that needs the Sun more than anything. How incredibly done! But, the sun comes to shyness, timidity strikes. Where art thou Mr. Sun? Darkness filled my world again, rain starts to drop, and flood is a minute away from the place where I’m in… Wait, dearest Flower, what happen to your alluring beauty? Your timeless beauty has timed-out. You left me; you left me in times of my downs, like the Sun. You just let me be in the way I am before, the way that I regret to be in. I’m in a secluded place that no one can see. They’re right; love is just like an illusion that tricks you!

Love is just a senseless game inside the mind of all the foolish people. I should’ve not let you made me persuaded to come and play with sun… I should’ve not let you convinced me to be happy because everything is temporary and tentative. You have told me everything, you gave me the lesson of loving someone, you gave me the detachable connection that commits mutualism; and *you gave me the reason to make a conclusion that even the most beautiful flower here on earth shall die tomorrow…
- J.B
Himani Dhaka Jan 2021
I cry, I frown, I aggravate, I shout
She laughs, she smiles, she simplifies and rejoices aloud
She is totally different from me
Se lives in me but is always free

When I frighten, she enlighten
with every step she brighten
she is a child in me
full of glee

when I become quiet in sadness
she does all work in quite Madness
what I deceive, is her believe
This bond is what makes us unique

We take different trains from the same station
My every work is a subject to her allegation
our roads don't match, but our destinations do
I don't know why her clumsiness is better than my neatness to

We both are one unit
I am a misfit, she is a nit wit
But, I lack the charisma she has
yet I am learning the way she act as

So what, we take different paths
we reach the same parks
Hurry up, I need to end this poem
to stop her playing from a toy lion...
I hope you can connect...
Saumya Sep 2020
To the freebird that wants to fly,
Let her fly.
To the freebird that yearns to soar high,
Let her heart forever pump delight,
To the freebird that aims high,
Let her sobs reach no height,
To the freebird that often asks 'why?'
Let her world be full of soothing surprise,
To the freebird that always simplifies,
Never, never, doubt her why's.
To the freebird, that will never be your type,
Know, perceive that she's unique,
and the best of her type!
To the freebird, who's only need is her flight,
Her fluttering feathers, her skies,
Don't limit, don't judge,
Don't argue, and do not deprive,
Just let her fly
High and high
High and high
To the infinite,
Unending heights.
....as that's what will only set you both alright!
Note:

Here,
Freebird=The Woman/Girl child who wants to do a lot more than what people can never  think  of se can't.A soul who has the potential to do a lot, and deserves so much!  but the people deprive her of it often

Please go through the entire poem and let me know how was it to you.All comments, feedbacks etc. Are most welcome 😊
(P.s-Also, let me know a better titile for this poem, if any pops up in your mind)

Happy Writing!✨
Big Virge Oct 2020
Well It Seems Nowadays...    

THAT..." Black Lives Matter "..... ?
Well I'd Say THE HUMAN Factor...  
Is What We SHOULD RECAPTURE... !!!!!!!!  
IN FACT What I Mean Is... "Capture"... !!!  

Because My Lifes' Chapters...  
HAVEN'T SEEN Too Much Data...    
That Humans In Their Manner...  
Are Living By... That Standard...    

There's NO Doubting THAT... !!!  
When It Comes To ATTACKS...  
That Are Made Against Blacks...  

Humanity LACKS...  
What It Is To RETRACT...  
And.... RECOGNISE....  
That Di-vi-s-ive Vibes    
Are... TAKING Lives... !!!!!  
And DIVI-D-ING Tribes... !!!!!  

You See SUBJECT MATTER...  
I DEAL IN.... HAMPERS....  
Those Who Hanker...  
To Work With FAKE DATA...  

FAKE Like.... TANNERS....  
Standing By Standards...  
Doubled Up And Captured  
By Their...  Actions... !!!  

STICKING To Factions...  
Thought Waves FRACTURED... !!!  
BELIEVE ME Sadness...  
Forms Their MADNESS...  

Anger Now S C A T T E R E D ...  
TATTERED And SPLATTERED...  
Like Matter That's SHATTERED... !!!!!!  

You See... Subjects I Factor...  
In Thoughts That I Capture...  
Within My Lyrical...  
Are Criminally Cynical... !!!  
According To Political...  
Subjects INADMISSIBLE... !!!

In Verse of Mine EMPIRICAL...  
Because of THEM I'm CRITICAL.... !!!!!

Via Subject Matter That Simplifies Data...
They Use To Confuse Through NEW AGE Tools... !!!      

Where Matter Is Subject...  
To MUCH That INFECTS...  
Todays' Internet Heads...    

From Online ***...  
To Conspiracy Threads...  

And OF COURSE A WHOLE SET...    
of... " TERRORIST Trends "... !!!!!  

Now Police Have Been Left...    
FEELING Bullets Instead...  
of... Dishing Out DEATH... !!!

Whose Matter Will Be Left...  
To FACE Bullets of LEAD... !?!  

Or Bombs That NOW Defend... ?  
By Blowing OFF Peoples' Heads... !?!  

Something Like ALL These Rappers...  
Who CLAIM That They Are GANGSTERS...  

AND ****** Like Gun Clappers...    
Well Now Its CLEAR They're ACTORS... !!!!!
Whose Chatter Runs... FAKE Data...  

Their Lyrics Deal In... DEATH...  

" Bringing The Pain " ... Like ****'... !!!!!  
But NOT TO... RACIST Feds'... !!?!!  

So MUCH Like... " Them "...  
Things That They STRESS... !!!!  
In Their... " Poems "...  
Are In Need of YES.....  

... Auto CORRECT... !!!!!!  

For LIES They Tell...  
About How They FLEX... !?!

While Blacks With SENSE...  
Face THREATS From Them... ?!?!?  
For... Dealing In TRUTH...  
Instead of Tools...  
Just To Get Some Street CRED'... ?!?  

So Like Bernie Mac' Said...  
TOO MANY Black Youths...  
Are Becoming NEW FOOLS... !!!

They Just FOLLOW The Trends...  
To Get Themselves AHEAD...    

YES... Subjects I SELECT...  
May UPSET CERTAIN Heads... ?  

But NOT Quite Like... !!!  
The LOSS of A Friend...  
OVER... IGNORANCE Bred...  
From A DIFFERENCE of Opinion... ?  
Religion or Dominion...

Or The Skin That People Live In... !?!?!  

This Piece Has Got Me...    
........ " THINKING ".........  

That Things Are NOW...  
...... So SICKENING...... !!!  

That People REALLY NEED...  
Some Form of UPLIFTMENT'... !!!

Well YES That's TRUE... !!!  
But FACING The Truth...  
Has To Be The FIRST MOVE... !!!!  

But THAT With PROOF... !!!    

NOT Media News...  
With Views AskeW...  

Cos' I'm TELLING You... !!!  
They're Making Moves...  
...... AGENDA Fuelled......  

To Confuse And Sep-a-rat-e....  
Through Religion And RACE... !!!  

It's CLEAR There Are Scales...  
That NEED TO BE BALANCED... !!!

And Leaders Whose Actions...  
NOW NEED TO BE CHALLENGED... !!!!!  

So Let Me END This Chapter...    
By Simply Saying... THIS...  

REMEMBER There Are FACTORS...  
Beyond Feelings That... "Capture"...  
Your ANGER Into RAPTURE...    
That's MADDER Than The HATTER... !!!!!  

And FEEDS Like VELOCIRAPTORS... !!!!!  

So DON'T Deny The Crimes You See... !!!  
Because of PRIDE Or A COMPLEX That...  
You CHOOSE To.................. "hide"...................  

Take The Time To TRY...  
To... OPEN UP Your Mind....  
To TRUTH, Falsehoods And LIES...  

And DELVE INTO The DATA...  
Where The ONLY FACTOR...  
That REALLY Matters....  

Is The QUALITY of...  

It's....  

....... " Subject Matter "......
This is from the, " On The Virge ", album, released in 2020.  
Take a listen here :    

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/subject-matter-1?in=user-16569179/sets/on-the-virge
Terry O'Leary Jan 2019
.             <Well, ShallowMan’s ne’er at a loss>
              <for voicing shallow thoughts that gloss.>
              <With trenchant wit he reaps the dross>
              <when seeking sense in applesauce.>

              <But to his aid flies FactoidMan>
              <who always has a Fact at hand;>
              <with him, who needs a whether-man>
              <to answer “if?” or “but?” or “and?”?>

“Oh ShallowMan, let me explain
the Facts of life to you, so plain,
yet flush with truthful thoughts arcane.
When understood, you won’t maintain
that callowness you think urbane.”

                              “Oh FactoidMan, give benedictions,
                              save me from all contradictions
                              with your knowledge, no restrictions
                              finding Facts, avoiding fictions.”

“Well, when in doubt, you always may
request my help to find your way
through shades of black and white and gray,
and from the Facts you’ll never stray.
Yes, ShallowMan, I’ll make your day.”

                              “Since yesteryear I’ve wondered why
                              I’m served a piece of humble pie
                              whene’er attempting to descry
                              just what’s a Fact, and what’s a lie,
                              and which be Facts one can’t deny.
                              With candor, can you edify
                              me with some recondite reply?”

“Well, as you know, my Facts are Facts
which naught nor nothing counteracts
and things that do, mere artifacts
in dim myopic cataracts.”

“A lie’s a thing which disagrees
with Facts I utter, if you please,
and hides the forest from the trees
ignoring all my verities.”

“And this reminds me of my youth,
with axioms defined as truth
which I selected as a sleuth
(abetted by a sweet vermouth);
I being now so long of tooth,
to contradict me’s hardly couth.”

                              “That certainly helps me clarify
                              whom I can trust: yeah, you’re the guy!  
                              Now, furthermore I’ve wondered why
                              the moon can’t fall and clouds can fly.  
                              What’s called that law those facts defy?
                              And mightn’t I just give a try
                              to make a guess to verify?”

“If you link your facts to law
(ah, please excuse a gruff guffaw)
you’ll certainly flaunt a flimsy flaw
that strains belief and breaks the straw
of what you’ve heard and thought you saw.
(I‘ll leave you with some bones to gnaw
that leave you holding me in awe
when once you’ve grasped and gasped ‘aha’).
So tell me now your ideas, raw,
but keep it short, your blah, blah, blah.”

                              “Umm, could it be just gravity
                              (well, something like a theory
                              that some call Relativity)
                              which pulls the apple from the tree
                              and puts a strain upon my knee;
                              or is that fact absurdity?”

“Ahem, a theory’s just a theory,
not a Fact, it’s all so eerie,
something which should make you leery
as explained until I’m weary.”

                              “If Relativity’s a theory,
                              and a theory’s not a Fact,
                              is it a fiction I can query
                              when I’m falling, ere I’m whacked?”

“Though theories might be based on Fact,
a theory is, in fact, not backed
by any cause, effect or act
which might be salvaged when attacked.
For you, this Fact may seem abstract,
plumb depths where shallow thoughts distract.”

“Yes, what goes up must soon come down
is quite a Fact of world renown.
But theory’s just a heathen gown
to deck the naked King in town,
and when he falls, he breaks his crown
which leaves him wearing but a frown.”

“It surely should be obvious,
the property of Heaviness
(like Godliness and Heaven-ness)
defines the cosmic edifice,
refuting Newton’s flakiness
and Einstein’s spooky emphasis  
on space-time’s 4-D flimsiness.
Yes, Facts like these are copious
(I count them with my abacus);
to argue would be blasphemous
displaying mental barrenness
about the push and pulling stress
when bouncing ***** rebound, unless
one views elastic laziness
as evil Satan’s stubbornness.”

                              “Well now I think I understand,
                              that gravity seems somewhat grand,
                              but’s just, in fact, a rubber band
                              that stretches through our earth-bound-land
                              constricting us when we expand.”

“Yes, ShallowMan, you finally got it,
just as I’ve long preached and taught it.
I’m so happy that you’ve bought it.
(Not a question nor an audit -
you’re so shallow, who’d have thought it?)”

              <Once ShallowMan dipped into science>
              <seeking FactoidMan’s alliance>
              <gaining, hence, a strong reliance>
              <on the Facts and their appliance,>
              <justifying strong compliance,>
              <turning down those in defiance.>

                              “Hey, FactoidMan, another topic
                              leaves me reeling, gyroscopic,
                              dealing with the microscopic
                              in a world kaleidoscopic.”

                              “Within the realm of vacuum loops
                              Dark Energy in quantum soups
                              of anti-matter sometimes swoops
                              across inflation’s Big Bang stoops
                              where space-time ends and matter droops.
                              Do you believe, or just the dupes?

“It’s nothing but a passing phase,
(a theory that in fact betrays
obscure occult communiqués
that fevered fantasy conveys)
of those who thump creation days.
Just check! The vacuum state portrays
perfection in your shallow ways
reflected in that vacant gaze
you cast upon the dossiers
of all my Facts that so amaze.”

                              “And what about the quantum theory?
                              Particles not hard but smeary,
                              just like waves? It’s kinda eerie!
                              Facts could not be quite so bleary
                              leaving Bohr, well, sad and teary.
                              FactoidMan, just tell me, dearie,
                              what the Facts are, bright or dreary.”

                              “And then again what are those holes
                              (as black as ravens bathed in coals)
                              wherein the past and future strolls
                              exploiting fields that Higgs controls
                              beneath the shady shallow shoals
                              between magnetic monopoles.”

“The science lab’s a ‘fact’ory
concocting stuff that cannot be
(like unknown realms and notably
those tiny things NoMan can see
with naked eye on bended knee
neath microscopic scrutiny)
and claim they’ve found reality;
they call their god a ‘Theo’ry
(a fig-ment of the Yum-Yum tree)
that leads them to hyperbole
about the singularity
that’s dipped in dazed duplicity
denying all eternity.”

“Here’s my advice that seems to work:
ignore the ones with ‘facts’ that lurk
behind their ‘proofs’ (which always irk),
and being challenged have the quirk
of stepping back within the murk
(indulged, I chuckle, smile or smirk).”

              <Now ShallowMan is quite content>
              <receiving FactoidMan’s consent>
              <to quibble and express dissent>
              <as long as keeping covenant>
              <with fingers crossed and belfry bent>
              <when viewing Facts in sealed cement:>

                               “The Facts you give me circumvent
                               those ‘truths’ your chuckles supplement;
                               although they might disorient
                               they can’t be wrong, I won’t dissent,
                               just using ones which you invent.“
“(No need of source in that event).”

                               “Your wise advice is simply sound
                               in cases where a game is bound
                               to parcel points out round by round
                               or else on verbal battleground
                              where know-it-alls are duly crowned.”

              <Though ShallowMan is kinda slow>
              <he still takes time to learn and throw>
              <his facts and theories to and fro,>
              <amazing facts which seem to show>
              <that theories sometimes come and go,>
              <returning strengthened with the glow>
              <of new found facts (for which to crow)>
              <that fill the gaps of long ago.>

                               “Oh FactoidMan, just tip your cap!
                               I’ve found a piece to fill the gap
                               that simplifies a mouse’s trap:
                               if triggerless, it still will clap
                               to give the mouse a mighty zap
                               that makes its tiny back bone snap.”

                               “With mousetrap type simplexity,
                               reducible complexity
                               helps arguments’ duplexity
                               with twists of crude convexity.”

“Ha-ha! That serves to prove my case:
for each gap filled, two in its place,
each growing at the doubled pace;
for unfilled gaps, I’m saying grace
(they help, indeed, for saving face)
Trying to get out of neutral....
don't know whether I'm in first or reverse...
I've been the fish,
I've swum the dream.
I've been the explorer,
The King, the Queen.
I've been the slave,
I've waded the stream.
I've been the dust,
I've been the ash,
And I've been everything in between.

There will come a life when this is seen for what it is,
When one simplifies their deeds
And no misgivings will give,
When one realizes the Grand Illusion
In which they have lived,
When one pours forth their infinite essence
And filters the impurities through the sieve.

One must transform their leaden clang
Into a Golden Resound.
Until this goal is clear,
We're all just ******* around.
*
Alexander J. Ziatyk
Sarah Jystad Jun 2010
Kimartham Saatva

Slowly essence simplifies
the All Souls curious inquiry
we question and ponder
we dwell and lull our minds to wake,
grasp entreatments to effortlessly and lazily
assist the slow pull from deep in the cave.

We struggle,
strain
our muscles, wring them round
squeezing us into stress and anxiety,
anxiety's merciless choke around your throat,
smashing our hearts between guilt and shame.

Shame, you have no shame!
Good! God Bless the Shameless!

Those who fear God, don't get “it.”
They don't hear its love-filled breath through the trees
they don't feel the truth in a handful of pacific sand
they don't see epiphany in the vast, soft, rolling expanse
of the supple, green morning hills gathering the mist-fog close
to the young glitters of the valley lake,
the peace-keeping mountain peaks.
They don't think of Music of as its own universe.

When we jump off diving boards, or seashore cliffs,
those few short seconds of airborne flight-falling
Prove
We need to challenge our mortality.
Climb that mountain, that hill, that jungle gym!
Climb those cliffs, those rooftops, those fences!

Doubt is a sickly, ******* life-leech.
Fear not Doubt, nor its debilitating effects.
Fear not Love, nor the fear love may breed.

Compare nothing and no one and none.
Comparing brings the misconception of the past-you and the now-you
with the misunderstanding of the someone-else.
It's completely countereffective and can put you at a new low.
But if you compare nothing and no one and none,
the result will astound your heart and mind and eyes.
You'll jump, fall, and crash into the water quickly, and be
Enveloped by Enthusiasm Vibrant.
If nothing is compared, there will be nothing different happening than what is exactly happening at this very moment
and nothing to doubt, nothing to disappoint,
Nothing to Fear.

I am grateful for every instance of
Every temporal, circumstantial, emotional, conceptual, verbal, aural, visual change in perspective and understanding
comprehension - “getting it” - is as rare as real.
True truth is simplicity of self and possessions and ties and responsibilities;
The splendor of the Ideal Utopia is
The sacrifice of complexity and adoption of isolation simplicity.
Isolation – separation from the socially dependent on the acceptable.

The closest you could ever reach nirvana quickly:
******.
Sensual ecstasy
Tangible overload
Absolute deprivation in the convulsions of pleasure
because it's the utter absence of the sense of self.

Why else would we welcome our ******* with
Affirmative cries
oh yes yes yes!
That startle our neighbors from their lifeless slumber.
Remember, when they pound on the wall and demand that you cease your path to nirvana,
They are simply blushing in awe at your shameless approach.
They are doubting their capacity,
fearing the possibility of an inability
To Be Free.

Cast Doubt and Fear from your mind,
Maybe you've heard this before,
But in a different context.
Maybe you've been told not to doubt or question or skepticize
the concept of sin or the authority of the Bible.
I heard it all throughout my childhood.
I heard stories that incited fear and shame and guilt and confusion
and I heard lessons of love and morality and sin and authority and exceptionalism and arrogancism and mercilessness
that only made sense if taken in objectionless.
When I Thought, all I could hear in my mind was -
What the **** is all this?
Excessivity – how does the grandeur of cathedrals not nauseate you?
Obvious manipulation of the awe we possesss.

We own nothing of nature yet we insist on state and country lines,
on property, on political parties, on religious beliefs, on ****** orientation,
on wealth and health and age and wage.
Stop the ******* belief in “otherness!”
There is only ONENESS.

We delight in friendship and family and small talk and deep talk and ***
Because
They remind us
There is and is no otherness or oneness
there's only Noneness
there's only Oneness
Omni-nothingness.
6/06/10

the title is supposed to mean 'why existence' but I'm no sanskrit expert haha.
Lucky Queue Sep 2012
I'm trying to free this masterpiece
that's stuck inside my brain
if it isn't released,
the pressure will make me insane.
So I put my pen to paper
and try to make it flow
but for my inexpertise
there are details I can't show.
The movements of the pen
and traces of the ink
represent what I can do
not what I can think.
So the cartoon scrawl that
lays upon this sheet
simplifies the imagination
that stands upon my feet.
First attempt at decent rhymed poetry
ahmo Jul 2016
we've fallen short of grace-
is this a choice?
do the sounds under our skin that emulate doors,
pieces of dense wood,
being the victims of vigorous passive vindication,
cry out of
desire
or
necessity?

no one answers.
no one can-
no one.

to suggest such a static solution simplifies abundance and ignorance and when screen doors remain idle,
leaving holes for wasps, spiders, and
beating
hearts
to emulate chromatic symmetry between pasta,
soft noodles,
and softer irises;
of bed sheets and donated couches of past lovers-

to flood apartment doors and grated gates without mercy.

the paradox lies within the absence of sound when we knock on screen doors and no one can ever hear, not even
ourselves.
judy smith May 2016
WHILE many little girls grow up fantasising about their weddings, Amber Tan Sze Min was always dreaming about designing bridal gowns. Many also grow up letting go of their childhood ambitions, but Tan was strongwilled, although it meant momentarily giving in to her parents' wishes.

She dropped out halfway through her pre-university course, and ended up studying graphic design. It was only after graduating that she could pursue a two-year diploma in fashion design at Kuala Lumpur's Raffles College of Higher Education, and thereafter flew to the UK to major in womenswear at the University of the Arts London.

"I wanted to prove to my family how much I wanted to design. It's not something that you'd get just because you say you want it. So I stood firm throughout the years, and showed my passion for it," recalled Tan.

Last February, the pint-sized lass introduced her bridal wear label AMBERSZE to the public for the first time at The Wedding 2016, a bridal fashion event by model and event management company Andrewsmodels.

It was never in her plan to debut as a bridal designer though – it lingered but only in the back of her mind as an eventual project – but her innate interest inevitably unveiled itself. "I have loved bridal gowns for a long time so I was making them before AMBERSZE even existed, and posting behind-the-scenes photos on social media. And that led people to identify me as a bridal designer.

"I wasn't planning to do it this soon but the opportunities knocked on my door, so one year ago, I decided to bring alive all my ideas and sketches," shared the 29-year-old.

Thankfully and finally, Tan's family recognised her resolution and embraced her penchant for designing. The Klang local considered herself lucky that she was able to kick off her start-up with her family's financial support.

"They always say fashion is a rich man's world. I couldn't understand this until I started the business, and saw a lot of truth in that statement. Everything involves money," said Tan.

She added that much of the capital was channeled towards building the brand and getting it out via media coverage and advertisements.

Another chunk of the money went into producing the dresses – all hand-made, by the way.

"Whether they sell or not, that's another story," she noted.

DRESS DNA

For the next eight months, Tan set off on a lonely journey of blood, sweat and tears. With only an assistant to help sew and embroider the garments by hand, Tan was dabbling in everything from designing, material sourcing, running the business, to doing public relations and accounting work.

Now that she has a team – including three assistant designers – behind her, Tan can take a step back and take the helm as a creative director, still designing but more focused on furnish-ing concepts and ideas – that never stray far from the company's philosophy of self-representation.

"I believe everyone likes Vera ****. I admire that she has her own thought behind everything. Likewise, my collections have to have their own thoughts and research to back them up.

As a designer, you have to stay true to yourself and not copy from existing designer pieces," opined Tan, who's also an avid reader.

AMBERSZE marries the essence of haute couture with new trends, by which Tan simplifies and demonstrates the former using translucent fabrics, for instance.

"So you can see the skeleton of the corset," she highlighted.

The play of sheer fabrics and coordinates (crop tops and skirts) may sit on the less traditional, or even risqué side of the spectrum, but Tan is confident that the personal tastes and styles of today's brides are shifting towards modern pieces that epitomise their true selves – as compared to the popular princess gown offered by most bridal boutiques.

"Nowadays, people want something new that show off their taste, fashion sense or status. Something to represent themselves, I would say.

That's where AMBERSZE comes in to serve," said the eldest of three siblings.

BEYOND BRIDAL

Of course, customising one of the most important dresses of a woman's lifetime can come with the occasional odd requests and a mountain of pressure.

Especially with a clientele that varies from pregnant to offbeat brides, as well as celebrities.

AMBERSZE's track record is a week for designing, and two to three weeks for production, but Tan recommends that brides make an appointment at least three months before D-Day.

"I usually get to know the bride's interests and taste, whether they prefer urban or classic designs. Whether the wedding's going to be indoors or outdoors; at the garden, beach or zoo!

Some brides may want certain fabrics which require a bit of sourcing too.

"To me, design is not just something pretty. You have to solve problems for your customers," said Tan, who also designs bridal veils, headbands and waistbands.

Besides tailoring her clients' dream wedding dresses, Tan has plenty to juggle in the meantime.

AMBERSZE boutique-***-studio is in the midst of moving to Sunway city, and alongside an evening wear collection due to launch in September, the label is also rolling out a ready-to-wear (RTW) line at the same time.

"The RTW line is going to be resortstyle to complement our hot climate, carrying 20 to 30 womenswear pieces. They're simple and modern, yet will not lack of nice detailing," she hinted with a smile.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth | www.marieaustralia.com/plus-size-formal-dresses
Ryan Holden Nov 2019
This life simplifies
Perspectives if you can see
The beautiful side.
Different views on how we look at life. I think it’s perfect, although some people may not be. Either way, I’ve always loved animals more!
When you become a father this is what happens in maths; she multiplies your *****, differentiates the situation, substitutes your friends, makes herself the subject of the formulae, simplifies your finance and factorizes your priorities.
lol.just a thought
Beaux Jun 2014
Dismissed Earth reconfigures with tongue
Binary reality simplifies through eyes
Barren body reimagined as fine wine
Hollow holds on cold text
With warmth behind false ideas
Carry out reversed scripture
Speak louder and louder
By choice
Indecency and despair
Three piece suit, satin stitches
Running sweat off worried hearts
Sweet honey suckle blood to bare
Love in a shadow box display
Echoes of an empty shell
Warm air slides past me slowly,
The dark is only challenged by firelight,
Light breeze makes the light flicker,
Reality looms in vivid paradise.
Stars expand my colored mind
The huge universe swirls within, one

Water trickles past,
dusty rocks and,
Simplifies my heart,
One with the world,

Perfection under sandals,
The huts begin spinning, harmonious life,
Hope becomes alive,
Luminescence.
mt May 2022
Earth abundant with Oh Mys,
Oh my belly, oh my thighs
Oh my sensory surprise

Oh my hips, oh my lips,
Oh my palm, oh my wrist,
Oh my action, oh my whips
deviating from the script
More Oh Mys than I can fit

Or maybe this multiplicity
Crossing all with all
Simplifies to one love

A universal go, cosmic come
Cosmic to, a universal from

These Oh Mys meld
Do not be deceived
Feel the universal energy,
But oh my!
do not leave
Dave Williams Aug 2016
shame sentimentally suffices some sacrament: strange secondary seekers safely scout such suffrage so suddenly, shake spurious susceptibility southward so strangers seem superficial; supposing such simple servants survive such sycophantic schools sans shouting, scraping, sifting, straightforward striking; some surmise something sustains, something stinks. see? sure. self-sustainable, sick, staggeringly stupid ****.

subtle ****, slip sliding southward, stopping such sudden shudderance.

safe, she says?

soon such seas seem superfluous so... success: scream success! shake secondary security, say secrets, sratch surfaces, scrape sentimental sand so shapes shift sooner; similarly scrub seemingly subtle scars, seven seconds, second severance, something so subliminally separate simplifies shifting solace, sacrificing so solemly saturday's superficial stars.

such sweet serendipity.
always wanted to write something with more s.
#s
Elena Smith Dec 2015
Telling the non believer what passage you're reading until you show how much you care' No many musicians don't know how to go about it Fitflops Malaysia Outlet. string and access to a printer for the lettering And although I've written the out entirely this shorter version simplifies it for this book of short stories your perception of reality may get a little altered. I made it, He is not dead. Christ had one nature and two wills, We knew nothing of the Agitator at first that he was here on earth. which . was five feet.

In order not to get carried away, Shift the mantra to something positive. Once the entry fee had been paid everything else was free, and I was part of her jam packed life. did you just come in from the plain at the airport below at the military air base. Come the woman's additional reaction. Einstein. moment by moment. where the imps hide. If she had they've already convinced themselves of this fact that she would've been married long ago On Christ and IslamJesus Christ, France.

You'll . need. if all accounts were. All this stopping and starting back up. In fact. This was the first of this type of use of the term which quickly changed to mascot and soon became a common symbol of almost every American sports franchise Cheap Fitflop Malaysia. the majority of the rats will be dead, business people. so why should they sign up with you Cheap Fitflops Malaysia. I realize the English language is probably one of the most difficult languages to learn if your English is not your first language. The people are trying to pacify .
Relate Articles:
http://www.dailyexpress.com.my/iphone/FitflopMalaysia.asp
Why is there a tangible sense
of fear, when it comes to an
intimate Faith? Does our Lord
and Savior evoke our defenses,

when He wants to pull us, unto
Himself? Our relationship with
Him is contingent on our belief
of His Word; knowing His view,

on the topics that comprise our
World, simplifies the method we
should live for Him. Doesn’t our
uniqueness, represent a flower

from His garden… of Humanity?
Author notes

Inspired by:
Deu 6:5; Jam 4:8; Jer 29:11

Learn more about me and my poetry at the book section of Amazon (dot) com.

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2018, All rights reserved.
Bongani G-kay Jul 2019
Land of the free,
shining bright like colours of the bees, attracting all the nations to learn about your history legends.
Getting people amused with the beauty you posses.
You give happiness to your citizens making them proud South Africans.
The problem you face get quickly erased,
that shows we have faith on you,
It's true you're the land of the dreams,
they knew that the hope we had on you will never fade away because there are many ways to describe a mysterious land like you,
but there is only one name that simplifies you
Republic of South Africa
Land of the free...
WEB: During 1950, after many years of research, a dedicated biochemist by the name of Dr. Ernst T. Krebs, Jr. (1912-1996), isolated a new vitamin that he numbered B17 and called “Laetrile.”
  As the years rolled by, thousands became convinced that Krebs had finally found the complete control for all cancers, a conviction that even more people share today.
  Back in 1950 Ernst Krebs could have had little idea of the hornet's nest he was about to stir up.
  The pharmaceutical multinationals, unable to patent or claim exclusive rights to the vitamin, launched a propaganda attack of unprecedented viciousness against B17, despite the fact that hard proof of its efficiency in controlling all forms of cancer surrounds us in overwhelming abundance.
   In his brilliantly researched 1974 book World Without Cancer, researcher and author G. Edward Griffin explains the trophoblastic theory of cancer proposed by Professor John Beard of Edinburgh University, which states that certain pre-embryonic cells in pregnancy differ in no discernible way from highly-malignant cancer cells. Edwards Griffin continues: "The trophoblast in pregnancy indeed does exhibit all the classical characteristics of cancer. It spreads and multiplies rapidly as it eats its way into the ****** wall preparing a place where the embryo can attach itself for maternal protection and nourishment."
   The trophoblast is formed in a chain reaction by another cell that Griffin simplifies down to the “total life cell,” which has the total capacity to evolve into any ***** or tissue, or a complete embryo. When the total life cell is triggered into producing trophoblast by contact with the hormone estrogen, present in both males and females, one of two different things happens.
  In the case of pregnancy the result is conventional development of a placenta and umbilical cord. If the trophoblast is triggered as part of a healing process however, the result is cancer or, as Edward Griffin cautions: "To be more accurate, we should say it is cancer if the healing process is not terminated upon completion of its task." Stunning proof of this claim is readily available. All trophoblast cells produce a unique hormone called the chorionic gonadotrophic (C.G.H.) which is easily detected in *****. Thus if a person is either pregnant or has cancer, a simple C.G.H. pregnancy test should confirm either or both. It does, with an accuracy of better than 92% in all cases. If the ***** sample shows positive it means either normal pregnancy or abnormal malignant cancer.
  Griffin notes: "If the patient is a woman, she either is pregnant or has cancer. If he is a man, cancer can be the only cause."
   So why all of the expensive, dangerous biopsies carried to “detect” cancerous growths? One can only assume that Medicare pays doctors a larger fee for biopsies than pregnancy tests.
During 1950 after many years of research, a dedicated biochemist by the name of Dr. Ernst T. Krebs, Jr., isolated a new vitamin that he numbered B17 and called 'Laetrile'. As the years rolled by, thousands became convinced that Krebs had finally found the complete control for all cancers, a conviction that even more people share today. Back in 1950 Ernst Krebs could have had little idea of the hornet's nest he was about to stir up. The pharmaceutical multinationals, unable to patent or claim exclusive rights to the vitamin, launched a propaganda attack of unprecedented viciousness against B17, despite the fact that hard proof of its efficiency in controlling all forms of cancer surrounds us in overwhelming abundance.
In his brilliantly researched 1974 book World Without Cancer, researcher and author G. Edward Griffin explains the trophoblastic theory of cancer proposed by Professor John Beard of Edinburgh University, which states that certain pre-embryonic cells in pregnancy differ in no discernible way from highly-malignant cancer cells. Edward Griffin continues:
"The trophoblast* in pregnancy indeed does exhibit all the classical characteristics of cancer. It spreads and multiplies rapidly as it eats its way into the ****** wall preparing a place where the embryo can attach itself for maternal protection and nourishment."
The trophoblast is formed in a chain reaction by another cell that Griffin simplifies down to the 'total life' cell, which has the total capacity to evolve into any ***** or tissue, or a complete embryo. When the total life cell is triggered into producing trophoblast by contact with the hormone estrogen, present in both males and females, one of two different things happens. In the case of pregnancy the result is conventional development of a placenta and umbilical cord. If the trophoblast is triggered as part of a healing process however, the result is cancer or, as Edward Griffin cautions: "To be more accurate, we should say it is cancer if the healing process is not terminated upon completion of its task."
Stunning proof of this claim is readily available. All trophoblast cells produce a unique hormone called the chorionic gonadotrophic (CGH) which is easily detected in *****. Thus if a person is either pregnant or has cancer, a simple CGH pregnancy test should confirm either or both. It does, with an accuracy of better than 92% in all cases. If the ***** sample shows positive it means either normal pregnancy or abnormal malignant cancer. Griffin notes: "If the patient is a woman, she either is pregnant or has cancer. If he is a man, cancer can be the only cause." So why all of the expensive, dangerous biopsies carried [out] to 'detect' cancerous growths? One can only assume that medicare pays doctors a larger fee for biopsies than pregnancy tests.
So how is it that any of us gets cancer in the first place. Is it exposure to cigarette smoking, intense sunlight or perhaps the effect of toxic food additives? Dr. Krebs thinks not. All of the hard biochemical evidence points to the fact that cancer is a simple deficiency disease of vitamin B17, long ago removed from our highly refined, western diets. Krebs postulates that the so-called 'carcinogens' are merely stress triggers that finally expose the B17 deficiency with devastating effect.
The proof Krebs has presented over the years to support his claim is impressive. Centuries ago we used to eat millet bread, rich in B17, but now we chew our way through wheat which has none at all. For generations our grandmothers used to carefully crush the seeds of plums, greengages, cherries, apples, apricots and other members of the botanical family Rosaceae, and diligently mix them with their home made jams and preserves. Grandma probably didn't know why she was doing it, but the seeds of all these fruits are the most potent source of B17 in the world. In the tropics, large quantities of B17 are found in cassava, also known as tapioca. When did you last eat some?
Independent research has also proved that a Himalayan tribe known as the 'Hunza' [more correctly Hunzakut] never contract cancer of any kind so long as they stick to their native diet which is exceptionally high in both apricots and millet. However, once exposed to western diets they become as vulnerable as the rest of us.
The implications of these findings are staggering of course. If we managed to control Scurvy (vitamin C deficiency) centuries ago, how is it we cannot do the same for cancer today? The fact of the matter is that we could if our respective governments would allow it. Unfortunately most governments have buckled under the pressure exerted by the pharmaceutical multinationals, the American Food & Drug Administration, and the American Medical Association. All three have mounted highly successful 'scare' campaigns based on the fact that vitamin B17 contains quantities of 'deadly' cyanide; conveniently forgetting that vitamin B12 also contains significant quantities of cyanide, and has long been available in health food shops world-wide.
Dr. Krebs' B17 Laetrile was derived from apricot seeds and then synthesized into crystalline form using his own unique process. Suddenly, the American FDA bombarded the media with a story about an unfortunate couple who had poisoned themselves by eating raw apricot seeds in San Francisco. The story made headline news across the U.S.A. although several suspicious journalists never managed to establish the identity of the unfortunate couple, despite many determined attempts. But the multinational pharmaceutical/FDA boot had been put in with a vengeance. From that point onwards eating apricot seeds or B17 Laetrile became synonymous with committing suicide...
Back in the fifties Dr. Ernst Krebs proved beyond doubt that B17 was completely harmless to humans in the most convincing way possible. After testing the vitamin on animals, he filled a large hypodermic with a mega-dose which he then injected into his own arm! Drastic perhaps, but the adventurous Dr. Krebs is still alive and well today.
The vitamin is harmless to healthy tissue for a very simple reason: Each molecule of B17 contains one unit of cyanide, one unit of benzaldehyde and two of glucose (sugar) tightly locked together. In order for the cyanide to become dangerous it is first necessary to 'unlock' the molecule to release it, a trick that can only be performed by an enzyme called beta-glucosidase. This enzyme is present all over the body in minute quantities, but in huge quantities (up to 100 times as high) at cancerous tumour sites.
Thus the cyanide is released only at the cancer site with drastic results, which become utterly devastating to the cancer cells because the benzaldehyde unit also unlocks at the same time. Benzaldehyde is a deadly poison in its own right, which then acts synergistically with the cyanide to produce a poison 100 times more deadly than either in isolation. The combined effect on the cancer cells is best left to the imagination.
But what about danger to the rest of the body's cells? Another enzyme, rhodanese, always present in larger quantities than the unlocking enzyme beta-glucosidase in healthy tissues has the easy ability to completely break down both cyanide and benzaldehyde into beneficial body products. Predictably perhaps, malignant cancer cells contain no rhodanese at all, leaving them completely at the mercy of the cyanide and benzaldehyde.
Any physician reading this article will probably be shaking with self-righteous indignation at this stage, muttering to himself: 'Yes, but where is the PROOF???'
Right here! Most people have heard of 'spontaneous remission', where the cancer simply goes away, hopefully never to reappear. Spontaneous remissions are exceedingly rare and vary from one form of cancer to another. One virulent variety known as testicular chorionepithelioma has never been known to produce a single spontaneous remission. Perhaps for that precise reason, Dr. Krebs singled it out for special attention when proving the effectiveness of B17 Laetrile in providing total control for cancers. As Edward Griffin recounts:
"In a banquet speech in San Francisco on November 19, 1967, Dr. Ernst T. Krebs, Jr., briefly reviewed six such cases. Then he added:
Now there is an advantage in not having had prior radiation, because if you have not received prior radiation that has failed, then you cannot enjoy the imagined benefits of the delayed effects of prior radiation. So this boy falls into the category of the ‘spontaneous regression... ‘
And when we look at this scientifically, we know that spontaneous regression occurs in fewer than one in 150,000 cases of cancer. The statistical possibility of spontaneous regression accounting for the complete resolution of successive cases of testicular chorionepithelioma is far greater than the statistical improbability of the sun not rising tomorrow morning."
Wisely perhaps, Griffin notes that because of the adverse publicity against B17 Laetrile, and because of the difficulties in obtaining the 'banned' substance, most cancer sufferers turn to the vitamin as a last resort, long after they have been burned by radiation therapy, and/or poisoned by chemotherapy. He points out that once the body organs have been savagely damaged in this way, there is little if any chance of B17 Laetrile being able to effect a cure. The body is simply too far gone.
When World Without Cancer was written back in 1974, B17 Laetrile was freely available in Australia. It is not now. A recent check with the Australian Cancer Foundation and health authorities revealed that nowadays Canberra considers each individual case on its merits, then decides whether the patient should be allowed to import sufficient of the material for his or her own personal use. If he or she manages to jump that hurdle, it is then his or her own responsibility to find a doctor prepared to inject it. Seemingly the multinational pharmaceutical lobbyists managed to get to our politicians before Dr. Krebs could get to the Australian public. Radiation and chemotherapy are highly profitable, and oncologists have to make a decent living...
Only a few months ago Australian nationwide television carried the delightful information that two out of every three Australians can expect to suffer skin cancer at least once during their lifetimes. On the massive evidence provided by Dr. Ernst Krebs, Jr. and G. Edward Griffin, that figure could be crushed to a tiny percentage of the anticipated numbers if Australians were allowed freedom of choice where B17 Laetrile is concerned. It is time for Australians to take a stand on this lethal issue.
WEB: During 1950, after many years of research, a dedicated biochemist by the name of Dr. Ernst T. Krebs, Jr. (1912-1996), isolated a new vitamin that he numbered B17 and called “Laetrile.”
  As the years rolled by, thousands became convinced that Krebs had finally found the complete control for all cancers, a conviction that even more people share today.
  Back in 1950 Ernst Krebs could have had little idea of the hornet's nest he was about to stir up.
  The pharmaceutical multinationals, unable to patent or claim exclusive rights to the vitamin, launched a propaganda attack of unprecedented viciousness against B17, despite the fact that hard proof of its efficiency in controlling all forms of cancer surrounds us in overwhelming abundance.
   In his brilliantly researched 1974 book World Without Cancer, researcher and author G. Edward Griffin explains the trophoblastic theory of cancer proposed by Professor John Beard of Edinburgh University, which states that certain pre-embryonic cells in pregnancy differ in no discernible way from highly-malignant cancer cells. Edwards Griffin continues: "The trophoblast in pregnancy indeed does exhibit all the classical characteristics of cancer. It spreads and multiplies rapidly as it eats its way into the ****** wall preparing a place where the embryo can attach itself for maternal protection and nourishment."
   The trophoblast is formed in a chain reaction by another cell that Griffin simplifies down to the “total life cell,” which has the total capacity to evolve into any ***** or tissue, or a complete embryo. When the total life cell is triggered into producing trophoblast by contact with the hormone estrogen, present in both males and females, one of two different things happens.
  In the case of pregnancy the result is conventional development of a placenta and umbilical cord. If the trophoblast is triggered as part of a healing process however, the result is cancer or, as Edward Griffin cautions: "To be more accurate, we should say it is cancer if the healing process is not terminated upon completion of its task." Stunning proof of this claim is readily available. All trophoblast cells produce a unique hormone called the chorionic gonadotrophic (C.G.H.) which is easily detected in *****. Thus if a person is either pregnant or has cancer, a simple C.G.H. pregnancy test should confirm either or both. It does, with an accuracy of better than 92% in all cases. If the ***** sample shows positive it means either normal pregnancy or abnormal malignant cancer.
  Griffin notes: "If the patient is a woman, she either is pregnant or has cancer. If he is a man, cancer can be the only cause."
   So why all of the expensive, dangerous biopsies carried to “detect” cancerous growths? One can only assume that Medicare pays doctors a larger fee for biopsies than pregnancy tests.
Breakwater Mar 2020
Love accepts, and forgives

Love overlooks, and enchants

Love simplifies and lacks definition

And all that adds up, block after block

Something from nothing, beautiful lack of logic
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2020
i sometimes wait for words to appear...
out of the blue...
spontaneity and all that: "wonder"...
i mean... what would that look like...
if it wasn't a hidden emphasis: (colon)...
and later something in talian...
it got it, it, got it, it got it? it it:
tags galore!

as to why people complain about their past...
i know of a quote:
some people never go mad...
what horrible lives they must lead...
true cpt. ahab... or half an arab...
i like my past in that...
whatever wrong i have ever done...
i'm grieving...
the rest of it is... why do i fancy myself
a music buff over a movie boffin?
well... i like to think that my memory
is a bit of my very own:
cameo role b-movie cinema galore!
no wonder... alzheimer's and...
when all these people treat their past
as a regret...
a past is past.... and what not...
i like to ferment in the past...
as much as i once loved movies...
memory is a cinema...
never listen to the grey-area of
those paratroopers forever landing
in a cul de sac of "now"...

if you're going to toast rye bread...
you need to toast rye bed twice...
compared to toasting your standard white loaf...
rye bread requires... sometimes
the most spectacular revelation of patience...
your finger is already roving in a ***
of humos and the gherkins are are already
being bitten off: no heads to begin with...
but... whatever...

i like my past...
i have a memory bank like an elephant...
whatever i did wrong...
well: there's an iron maiden for that sort
of thing...
but i will not be told to uphold the sort of crucifix
masochism of a spectacle...
hey'zeus and je susan to boot...
rye bread...
you need to toast it twice...
if you want the crisp...
and the butter to melt into it like...
someone with a hangover attempting:
clarification bacon when... sun-tanning...

me? inspiration? i'd rather wait for a bus...
shuffle my feet in imitation
tango and scare a shadow while
catching a mouse using no amount of cheese!
that's me... secondant...
to major major: anyone not
milo minderbinder but me?
well then... quack salute and goose-stepping
a mile toward: the future a blank
with no cinema...

why forget the past when it can be such
great cinema?!
perhaps that's why i don't dream that much...
although...
the last dream i had...
i was pinching and pulling out...
splinters of wood from my right hand...
some appeared tiny at first...
later they emerged the size length and thickness
akin to legs of a table...
wooden splinters...
if these aren't dreams about teeth...
they have to be dreams about pulling
splinters from the hand...

what's next? giving birth to turds
and tapeworms?! or cackling penguins?!
what new dream?
attempting to melt a **** of butter
while rubbing it into the skin of a *******
walrus?! expecting to hear a purr?!

what is psychology? i thought that psychopathy
covered it all...
pathology of having a soul...
no... psychology counters psychopathy:
there's a second tier of thinking...
counter impulsive... conscience riddled...
chasm of: when aladdin meets the jinn...

little rubric friend of m'aye:
if... god is dead... this existence is wholly
materialistic: if god is dead
there's no need to cage the body
into a soul... and reverse...
the psychopathy of: the non-existence
of a soul... negation...
this psychology of: lost optics of 1 + 1 = 2...
the logicstics of: a soul with ****** logistics...
cage confined to a cage...

the logic confined to: a soul...
with is lent from god...
but the non-existence of god is...
also... a non-existence of the soul...
why bother then...
what then is the antonym of soul
that animates the body...
that which is unconscious is keeping
a solid heart-beat...
the functions of the liver...
i am the host... i am... while the body
is landlord...
psychology and psychopathy...
one side says: the other side simplifies
impulses... to have a soul is wrong...
psychopathy -
apathy... and to be psychopathic is
wrong "summa summarum"...

if not soul then: sigma (Σ)... we can call it that...
what coordination reprieve?
the Σ forgot the function of the liver...
when the brain demanded: knock-out drinking
habit... day in day out... 7 years and counting!
**** the liver: the brain needs a kipper!

and words sometimes do appear...
like so...
because they have themselves being circumstanced
against a blockage...
a constipation of sentencing the eyes
to staring at a blank piece of paper...
and no further avenues of coordination
the remaining 10 minutes before...
taking the pillow to a viennese waltz...
hugging... being reunited with Cain in Knox & Nod...
perhaps Abel was just a...
annoying ****-whisperer?
after all... last time i heard: Cain's ******
was driven by the fact that...
tomatoes have no blood...
cucumbers have no blood...
that Cain was a vegetarian...
some oops and some horseshoes making
their m.o.t. pass in the crux reminder of
seeking fit to trot via the cobblestone...

spoken like someone who would drive a car...
an alsatian and a sledge... yes...
a bicycle... yes...
a bus a train... yes...
a horse... yes...
but a car? do i look like a ******* h'american
whereby i drive a car: legally...
before i drink from ms. amber's ****: legally?
give me a horse and a bottle of whiskey...
i don't need mr. hamster and the traffic olympics:
for that one-once-upon-a-time "pull"...
sorry... sprain... of:
when no apple pie, warm, was handy...
the floral pattern of excess ******* had to do
"it" justice...

honestly: drink first: thirst first...
and adore the double-decker.... otherwise a nostalgia:
oh no... memory and nostalgia don't mingle...
not if memory is to be treated as a cinematic
escapade... nostalgia is not part of
the hong kong double-decker...
but... to drink prior to it being legal for you
to drive... well: no one of me
is going to be the designated taxi driver interlude
"watchman"...

from the day i started drinking,
it was a pretty ******* clear pythagorean statement...
you drink... you take the bus...
you drink... you walk...
what always eased the walking part?
it's the "deathrow mile"...
again... misnomer... the greater the meaning
of the walk... the shorter the actual distance
being walked...
blink and you might just miss it...
engage with former rage galore...
of clubbing and coming home with nothing
but regress and Greta -

i sometimes wait for words to appear.
But by love, the oak trees writhe

Do you believe what you see?
Do you believe that you see?

He simplifies me,
Paper under his paper weight
Listening to those teeth which chatter

— The End —