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Lazhar Bouazzi Sep 2017
My hungry lips started to talk
To your lips in language hungry,
As my tongue began to unlock
The well of  your  language sundry,
Necking your North African mounds;
Halting at your salving shell pink,
To sip and sup your winy words
And faint and wake and rise and sink
In the waking sleep of the tongues
Of your fire
To pen my un–Sufi desire
And die in the dunes of your body.

© LazharBouazzi
Lazhar Bouazzi Oct 2018
My hungry lips commenced to talk
To your lips in language hungry,
As my tongue began to unlock
The well of  your  language sundry,

Necking your North African mounds,
Halting at your salving shell pink,
To sip and sup your winy words
And faint and wake and rise and sink

In the waking sleep of  your fire
To pen my Sufi desire,
And die in the dunes of your body.

© LazharBouazzi
Once more the cauldron of the sun
Smears the bookcase with winy red,
And here my page is, and there my bed,
And the apple-tree shadows travel along.
Soon their intangible track will be run,
And dusk grow strong
And they have fled.

Yes: now the boiling ball is gone,
And I have wasted another day….
But wasted—wasted, do I say?
Is it a waste to have imagined one
Beyond the hills there, who, anon,
My great deeds done,
Will be mine alway?
Budding Dirt Oct 2017
Osogo chiewa gokinyi tula ruto e wi tado,chunya penjoree nyakwar kibiere ang’o ma dwa yudowa ma awinjo duond jachein machiegni ni? Achiewo amanyo ang’uolana mane agolo ka pok adonjo e od nindo.Awuok oko agoyo ****’a koni gi koni ,aneno minwa oa turo bando e puodho ma path ot,’minwa oyaore?’ amose gi luoro apenje ni,to ma winy ochiewa gi ruto modhuroni to kare ang’o madwa timore,”Nyathina ing’eyo ni asebedo ka aleko lek moko mag tho chalo ni masira nyalo yudowa machiegni ni.”Wewuoyo kamano minwa nyoro ka koko ayiko nyabila osiepa mabuonjo mos to ong’eyo rito nyikwayo ,omwolo nyakamaye,ok adwa winjo wach tho kata matin.Ne, we keta gi wach tho gokinyi chiew owadu ma ababa mondo udhi e puodho ridho bando, wuoyi ber machiewo to yudo gi matimo ka chieng pok obedo makech,awuok achiko e od steve omera kuma ababa tinde nindoe karito ’ ,Ababa pok ichiewo,? mama wacho ni en nindo manade ma sani pod ng’ama dichwo ninde?Bro,nyoro ne anindo modeko nadhi e thum kaseda loka aduogo saa apar ga riyo asayou weya uru anind matin okatamora puodho to adhi.Ababa we tugo koda dalaka. kwani wan ema ne wakoni ni idhi e thum? Chung na malo ka pok achopo kanyo apami.Awera kode Awuok Oko Tiego Kwer ,nyundo pisore to goyo lweta malit ‘Uwi Uwi ****’,Fred en ang’o? Minwa goyo koko,Ta ang'ise gi lit ni " ok nyundoni ema dwa bamo lweta yawa',Ababa nyiera ‘Hehe mama nakoni ni jo town gi bure kata tiego kwer gikia’.Omera we losona kaka ilosonano idhi ****’o iya gokinyi.Mama to nyathini kamaye ekaka tinde onindo dalaka ? Saani dekoro wasechopo e puodho? Fred, in to ema ihero lungo wach,Nyoro donge nang’isi ni aseda mawuon Erick ne onindo e bade? D.O Misiani ne biro goyo ngolo kanyo gi joka shirati band,makoro imedo chumvi e wach dhina e thum ni? Ne ok awinjo maber ababa yawa,yani "Aseda ne osewewa ? To nyaka ne bi dalaka asebedo mana ka awuotho to shemecha gi ok kona ni wuod awino ratego osewewa,mayie we adhi sani agone gi mos puodho ok ringi pod an dala ka.Mama? Ababa ng’isa ni aseda kare ne ong’ielo orengo? We adhi agone gi mos mondi? Fred Okadwa Walo Ochuno Ni Nyaka Idhi Sani ? Dhi nenore marach ni asebet odieng' ariyo dalaka to pok adhi gonegi mos,we adhiya adhiya mama asayi?Kare dhi to kik ibudh kono,Aneno wuonu ma ngoto kono ohero minoni mang’eny gi penjo mag pimo wich,Tang' kode? Awinji minwa.Omera ? Mano fred maneno kalo e rangach kanyo no? Adwoke gi gero,'Mano ng’a magoyo koko gi nyinga E gweng’ no?An bena omera kwani ikia dwonda ? Omera kare in e gweng’ ka ? An Nabiro nyoro. Achopo ka owad gi baba u ma aseda kagoyo mos.Mano ber ,yaani freddy eldoret ka omiyo ok unenru, chakre john ma wuonu tho yawa,uweyo nyauyoma ema puro dalaka  kapunda? Ok kamano baba “nyaka wamany omera, piny oidho ma  ka ok imanyo toinyalo inindo kech kata kwelo.We an achop ago mos koka aduogi,Kapok idhi  Freddy miya gimoro kanyo adonjgo kisii ka amorgo chunya? Omera Benah, sani to atwo ok awuotho gi wallet lakini mak mia moro nikaa ikwe go wiyi, abiro neni maber godhiambo.Erokamano wuod baba, in gi chuny mana ka wuonu ma john. Sasawa Bena we an Aweyi.Hodi ka? Karibu! Karibu !  Freda,To in Dalaka? Antiye min akoth nabiro nyocha neno nyara matin gi minwa ,Mos  kuom gimoyudi ni? Nyathi john,mae e yo manyaka ji duto te nelu,nitie kinde nyuol gi kinde tho, wante wan jokalo e piny ma mwalo ka,mano adier min akoth.To ne  odhi nade ? " Kik iwach nyathi nyieka,an nachiewo gi sime koa kisumo ni wuon akoth wakoche ne oyang’o ng’ute gotieno koa tich.Gichinje matindo tindo." Mos yawa, pinyni  ne waresre nade? En mana kamano nyathi nyauyoma,to piny majan kono udhiye nade ? Siasa awinjo ni liet kono mapek piny otur ji dwaro lokruok? Nandi, dhi maber lakini nasewuok kono an eldoret tinde.'oh nisewuok kono ? Mano ber tek ni iyudo kamoro ma chumbi wuoke."Min Akoth ok awuotho machwe ahinya lakini mak rupia moro matin ni, iyudgo kata sukari moro ne nyithindo."Erokamano nyathina nyasaye ogwedhi,to pok iyudo min ot nyaka nya min nyathini wewa? Hahhahaha ! Naseyuto,Nyasaye ogwedha gi jaber kendo achano mana harus.Pod apime ka en miyo manyalo pur ma kojwach ka.Pod Antiye Dalaka Wabiro Wuoyo Kayudo Kinde. We an aweyi? Erokamano nyathi nyieka.
Lazhar Bouazzi Oct 2016
My hungry lips started to talk
To her lips in language hungry,
And my tongue began to unlock
The well of  her language sundry
Necking her North African mounds;
Halting at her salving shell pink
To sip and sup her winy words,
And faint and wake and rise and sink
In the waking sleep of the tongues
Of her fire
To pen my un–Sufi desire
To die in the dunes of her body.

© LazharBouazzi, October 20,  2016
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
that was my pet name, a love's long lost word
of infuriating apathy against grey public passerby materials:
simply that: kakasha - or little ****, or mouse ****,
or rodent shrapnel - i guess me being a Pole
and she being a Russian would have never worked out -
i don't actually know what was expected of me, an English girl?
n'ah, wouldn't have worked with the master slave antics -
a Polish girl? **** me, no! well, it just ended up being
a love for the people... which is a lot and nothing at all
come to think of it... whenever i said Cyrillic
was the new Greek i was right... shame though,
i could have had a marriage correct my deviant bachelor years...
i would't have written anything at all...
and it would all seem like the perfection of life: problem here,
problem there... but that's all i remember
from the days when youth allowed  my body to be buff and me
staging  a dumb way out of having a body of a model,
but hardly the vacancy to accept it... god it takes such a
large chunk of manoeuvring a Zeppelin
to land a paper aeroplane equivalent -
               i just didn't have the vacancy
to keep at the gym routine...
         went back to the bloated lamb belly,
and felt all the better for it....
                 starting drinking professionally -
because soberness was  a bit of wasteland -
nice name, that lover's pet name: kakasha:
or little ****, or mice pebbles, don't you think?
sometimes that's what's needed to
strengthen the memory, when memory
overpowers imagination,
it's not a case of lingering on the past,
utilise phonetic encoding well enough
and the symbols reveal a lacking need to
move forward and take into consideration
triangles and squares...
          images...
      you just forget about the future...
you're not stuck in the past,
        it's just about how everything's encoded
and where you place your primers -
        but of course i'm not nostalgic
as in hoping for a revision or a revival:
i just mean: it actually happened,
i can't reverse it from having happened -
what i can do is treat memory as the most
private event of cinematography -
nothing the forward looking imagination
might breed - what imagination lacks is the
fact that symbols can't change... they remain
intact... all imagination can do
is use the same symbols of encoding that
memory otherwise decodes, unravels and
makes desecration of... imagination is politically
correct by comparison... memory really does
become the perfect cinema, provided there's
a life worthy of cinema, however simple...
i know i bankrupted on imaging things as
they'll never be... but memory?
i already knew they happened - hence
the counter-imaginative response:
memory, alter-cinema -
                     which, in another framework of
sentences is a second rebellion,
counter teeny winy annie mo - of how they
framework educational models,
stuffing our imagination with fall-safe mechanisation
of know techniques: akin to arithmetic -
and how we were taught to remember what
would readily become forgotten come the next year...
                   of what i understand:
i think             i imagine                 i remember
                   precipitates into           being
                     - thus the three prime faculties
  and akin to the rules of prime numbers:
               no positive divisor greater than 1 or the
           stated faculty per se-
      later she slanders me with the nouns schizoid
and autistic: because we didn't have the picnic
  and didn't raise a family... a lonely world indeed.
i feel: and indeed the many loves, and failings of
    the heart's housekeeping standards -
             after that it just becomes a guess-work
   pattern of competition and incompetence -
                    or how language can become anti-journalistic,
  as it often does, it never is a scenario of
             Wednesday, 6th of July 2016 a.d.
                                        and credits akin to a movie:
             like you'll never talk to the background of things
and the people who move them while you pay the tax.
right now i have a 9kg Maine **** cat trying to
escape the house during the night, a cat turned
Pavarotti - meow meow, meow ******* meow,
meow meow... Lombroso should be near... this
is really starting to bug me... he might have a case
about a cat that never shut up and the person that
strangled it...
               so, indeed, three basic faculties of the mind...
i kept them as: imagination, thinking, memorisation...
                which means i went against the
Cartesian model of denial thought and doubt -
because i found them too emotionally entwined,
and therefore less puritan in consideration -
            and also less scholastic by the looks of it -
exams...                     for me the three prime
faculties are imagination, thought and memory...
they're antidotes of what later became the existential
revision of the Cartesian inspection: how
                              namely the notion of denial
as the antidote to good faith (doubt) - i just didn't
like the kindergarten of adults playing childish games.
Wuji Mar 2012
Pathetic,
That's what you are,
And always have been.

Little winy *****,
Who can cry on command,
Don't you know lying is a sin?

****** that I left you,
Thrashing in spite,
You shout to sky.

Dragging yourself down,
Showing me how I was right,
Screaming insults at the traffic that goes by.

I wonder why,
Or how you cannot let this go?
We are done.

Now I know,
You attention *****,
Anything to get me to run.

Make your insults child,
This is as far as you will get.
Because I know you are reading this.

Grow up child,
Actually move on,
Because it's you I don't miss.
You lower yourself while you just push me higher up. But must be quite used to that by now.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
i'm having this... Milan Kundera moment...
what other Czech writer do i have in my library?
Miroslav Holub: a truly great poet...
my mother's maiden name is: Batuk...
which is probably Czech...
            often confused by my "fellow" countrymen
as Batóg...
      i'm listening to Heilung's Norupo....
                      i'm writing in English...
      the tongue of commerce and idea-fluidity...
but i'm having this Milan Kundera moment...
       it was at the London Stadium overseeing
the ingress of the crowd for the Monster Jam (monster
truck) event that i overheard the minority tongue
being spoken: by a father to a son...
******... i was almost tempted to say:
miłego spektaklu:
     have a pleasant time seeing the spectacle...
two words vs. seven...
              English is so imperfect...
you only need to hear the natives speak so profoundly
of it to realise... but i can express what i want
in just two words... while the English
have to use seven words to orientate what
they're trying to say: i don't need to orientate
what i'm going to say: i just say it...
hence? the almost complete lack of using
the pronouns in the ****** tongue...
    esp.: the iota: I...
            
            living in a multicultural society:
i'm used to it... i build up with nausea whenever
i return to the "homeland"... when i'm
swallowed up by the crowds of Warsaw...
i'm white among whites...
more so... i'm ethnically this swallowed up
by what's ethnically me...
                           i don't have a problem with race...
i'll **** anything than moves...
i prefer Romanian girls, i prefer Turkish girls...
i'd love to **** a proper Celtic ginger, though,
but they're sort of taboo in their own eyes...

point being... that *******...
it's the closest i've ever come to rekindling memories
of childhood...
it truly felt like rekindling memories
of my childhood... back in Poland...
at the twilight of the dead-end closure of
the experiment of Communism...
perhaps in the West the Germanic peoples thought
the Slavs were stupid enough to invest
their efforts in Communism...
sure... we tried it... it failed...
    since the West wasn't ravaged by either
Ottoman Turk or Mongol invasions...
this buffer zone of the continent wanted to try
something different...
              
while neutral countries like Sweden were given
American handouts after the second world war...
Poland was given a handout...
first came the Nazis... then came the Communists...
super!
          
the *******...
   one knew i was favouring the other...
*** has transformed me...
   transactional-clarity *** has...
                   i don't date...
hmm...
           i'm always turned off when someone's
talking during ***...
   alea iacta est...
                         ******* of stating the obvious:
two girls? you must feel like a king...
30 minutes later i was the same pauper poet...
but the other one knew my intentions...
she tried to avoid giving me her lips...
she gave me her cheeks... her jaw...
her collarbone... her ears... her hair...
and... her hand-job... well lubricated...

                   her eyes... her tenderness... and her eyes
that knew everything... that a massive storm
reigns on Jupiter with that eternal whirlwind
of the Eye... and she told me that without me even
needing to invent a telescope...
by simply looking at me with what became
a mutual consent and contentment of a longing...
like magnets ++
         repelled yet at the same time spontaneously
flipping into a +- dynamic...

how do i know this?
  the boisterous one... the one with duck lips...
the one that insisted on having the *******...
she was all too ready to earn the money...
her ******* did come into good use...
makeshift ******... i must have *******
right up to her chin since she retorted with
an awkward surprise... took a shower...
insisted i take a shower too...
    but the girl that was giving me a hand-job... didn't...

after i climbed out of the shower and started
dressing myself in my work clothes...
buttoning my shirt up and putting on my tie...
the loud duck-lip fake-lady of the night
was already too eager to tell me goodbye...
    but the girl i truly wanted was standing behind
me... before me: a mirror and myself...
she behind me... massaging my shoulders
and back...

                  you learn to shut up for long enough...
you learn to read eyes...
   oh those eyes...

and that memory of mine...
didn't i conjure up the idea that Darwinism is
a geocentric model... the antithesis of the Copernican
heliocentric model? does it really matter?

i can't say that memory is a fickle creature:
sure... it's eroded by education 1 + 1 = 2 etc.
but... even if my first memories are of being 4...
i do remember sitting on a stump of a tree
eating candyfloss... contemplating
the idea of: inseminating a ***** with human
*****... and the reverse... inseminating a woman
with dog *****...

    that's all before being revealed / made aware
of Mary Shelley's idea of Frankenstein...

race-mixing... Darwinism... so why is it that
a Gorilla will not breed with a Chimpanzee?
if man is all-powerful and so godly...
why not try this experiment?
       what man did with dogs... surely man
can attempt with primates...
breed Gorilla males with Chimpanzee females,
no?
        well... if it took us so long to
adapt geographically to our environment
whether via Africa or Scandinavia...
the levelling of copper-neck pseudo-north-African
throughout...
let's mix the primates...
like we mixed the canines...
       let us create some new hybrids!

i'd love to see what a mix of Gorilla and Chimpanzee
looks like...
but why is it that they do not mix inherently?
what?!
             personally i love seeing a black boy
in a romance with a black girl...
it's my new found fetish...
          as is my fetish for seeing...
perhaps: the ***** of a horse invested into
the reproductive parallel of a cow...

how else were donkeys conjured?
                    hey! hey!
                 why stop on creating dogs with
smashed snouts and breathing problems?!
seems rather cruel to not explore further...
after all... Darwinism is a geocentric model...
i don't need to explore the heliocentric
model any further... the moon has been conquered...
let's be brave!
           let's become children again!

we're mixing races... let's attempt to breed
giraffes with elephants!
          who said no?!
              how were pigs brought into existence?
a boar was given access **** to...
exactly?! what was furless and resembling
the boar?
         and the Sphynx cat?!
                        
once the theory of evolution emerged... people...
have become very... very much:
reserved... we could be creating so many new
breeds of life...
instead of simply falling back on interracial
"affairs"... that's the lazy option... copper-neck
plateaus... we'll all be quasi-Arabs one generation
then the racial diluting will overtake "our"
luvvy-dubby prejudices of "modern times"...
modern my ***...

             and i am a hypocrite in my line of argument:
which gives me "privilege" in "arguing"
this point... i say: free the reins! let nature reign!
after all, nature abhors vacuum!

natura abhorreo vacuum...

           why stop?! clearly the ancients had some
imagination and a sense of thrills
beyond the safety-nets of base-jumping...
imploding gravity...
        they "invented" the pigs...
no... they just figured... too much hassle hunting
wild boars... let's create something dependent
on us to rear it... let's breed the boar
with something resembling our nakedness...
let's tend to it...

    the Muslim antithesis of god the creator of all
things pristine... the sun and the moon
and when the mountain came to Muhammad...
yet? well... not such a pristine god if he also
prohibits ingesting something...
     bad logic... very bad bag of logic...
chances are the biggest tapeworms are to be found
inside marine creatures...
no prohibition of eating *****...
   even though ***** are scavengers...

        i say **** it... let's mix everything together...
let's have a Darwinian festival... a "pride month"
of experimenting with inter-species...
we might conjure up a second donkey...
by breeding bull ***** with a horse's ****...
i'm tired of the sensible pact:

    pax sensibilis of exploring the void... the stars...
we're not moving... to hell we're not moving!
i'm supposed to be the madman
but i'm living among bigger madmen...
i'm fuming at the mouth thinking not thinking
about how unrealistic people are becoming...
so... safe... so cushioned... so... vanilla...

and what happened to the people who tested out
Communism... after...
was it the French Revolution that prompted
the ****** from inbreeding "royalty"?
or was it the Russian revolution that made
the inbreeding ****** reconsider their power dynamic?!

let's face it... the first "world war"?
family infighting... cousin fighting uncle...
just when mother died...

nicknames and funny surnames,
i can take apart Darwin...

dar (gift) win(a) - wine / guilt...
gift of wine...
           troublesome the win(a)...
i.e. morphes into: dar winy (gift of guilt)
whereas dar wina (gift of wine)...
                      hey... tongue of playgrounds...
i'm still refreshed by a game we played
as children: hide & seek...
i'm still hiding myself from myself
and seeking myself into / within myself...
it's some ancient game some of us lucky ones
were still "promised" to be allowed to play...

unisex... boys and girls...
                not this current pseudo-Germanic
in vitro anaesthesia dynamic...
  it's sick mannequin *****-donning condoms
on your head superstition of above-average
superiority...
                            some ******* calamity of moral
agendas... of course i'm fury! of course i'm
havoc!
               why do you think the Russians
attacked the Ukrainians?! why the Polacks
allowed over a million of war-refugees into their land?!
eh?! ethnic-implosion...
  
   i might write in English... but... i'm not English...
no ******* migrant crisis from either Africa or
the Middle East is going to bother the Slavic people...
i once joked with my mother:
Polacks have this aversion to spices...
bay leaf... yep, sure sure... all-spice... yep yep, sure...
paprika... smoked paprika for the Hungarians...
horseradish... rosemary, thyme... parsley...
     dill...

listen! it's Darwinism in action! why be averted by
what's supposedly common knowledge?!
not everyone can be as post-colonial cucked
as the English bourgeoisie...
              who's kids fancy a neo-Communism...
when the old Communism: defeated...
was... pretty much a Pan-Slavic movement...
right... the bright-younglings of England and former
colonies are going to usurp a system that
breeds beached-whale-beauties...
          
   never mind that Communism was first experimented
with in Mongolia...
a sort of: thank you... for Genghis Khan genes...
me neither... i couldn't strap myself
to a single woman...
               i couldn't... i need to be vague when i ****...
elusive... not even there...
i need to love as many women in a pardon
for sometimes hating myself...

ha ha...
      what crisis?!
   where?! self-defence mechanisms kicking in...
are we truly all loved up with each other?
and what African nation ever conquered anything
outside of Africa for the "race" to be dubbed
the Orcs?!
              honestly? i've love to be a minority
living in Kenya... maybe i might be chosen
for a television advert... advertising... soap...
or... cheese...
                            
                        clearly i love the war inside my head...
it will pass as soon as i stop typing this...
i need to water the flowers in the garden...
very Voltaire of me...

                      sometimes a subject that claims the authority
over the world comes into my vicinity & consciousness...
whether by force or by authority...
or by passively lingering...
                      and i acknowledge it...
but... at the same time... this world has no
authority to claim the sanctity of my little makeshift
monastery of solitude and heightened
hypocrisy of eroticism...

   it's not longer enough to be simply "right":
or, "moral"...
               times are changing... it's no longer to
be the super-man... to be the over-man...
to overcome being human...
    times are changing... it's time to be the allesmann...
to be the all-encompassing man...
everything! the good, the ill! to look beyond
good and evil: truthfully!
                       no need to pander to the nunnery...
the fine line between contradicting oneself
and at the same time embracing onself:
conflating good with evil
   rather than making distinctions between the two!

maybe the serpent should have said:
and you will know the difference between good WITH evil
rather than... and you will know the difference
between good AND evil?!              no?!

obviously both sentences are a joke...
good is good
    and evil is evil...
               man left in a limbo of nuances and the bible
of lawyers', rhetoricians', sophists'... i.e. the thesaurus:
man writes laws: all of man's laws are subjective laws...
man uses the thesaurus...
man doesn't write objective laws: man doesn't write
the law of gravity...
man discovers the law of gravity...
man utilises a dictionary; the end.
Strange lessons are hidden in lonely nights,
Where sanctity of love is trapped by knights,

O my heart! Look at the sky,
Moon is engulfed so far and so high,

Telling me her stories, full of lies and truth,
The way she smiles and sips the broth,

It’s dark because her hairs surrounded the space,
And the brightness comes in stars from her divine face,

My heart beats having a thundering sound,
Justifies surroundings for eyes to shower around,

O what makes my breaths stop and extensive?
It’s her fragrance, lovely and exclusive,

Sometimes the moon comes out from her eyes,
Sometimes falls into the dimple and cries,

Silently, trees start dancing when she shakes her hairs,
Silently dawn comes with singing from everywhere,

To say me her beauty, the river raises its voice,
And birds go silent to welcome her as my choice,

And here I am so far, although I am so near,
That’s my destiny but from the Lord, I fear,

I can touch her winy lips; even I have the power,
Alas! Into her hairs, I cannot place a flower,

The birds are silent to hear my songs,
The dogs are barking to shear my songs,

Upon my face, emerges a spring of tears,
Wipes away all of the deadly feelings and fears,

— The End —