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As I think what it bin ,
as I smoke upon this gin,
Keep on tryoin never win.
this game is lame this move is sick,
what way no where?
Oh-             what to pick.
Inhale the false fale ,
    so good gowin my luck...
          with *** give not a ****.
this road is so bumpy , unstable I'm stuck.
  on my own finally out of the shelter   dearly jesse mckush, <3
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
Àŧùl
Everybody knows of Istanbul in Turkey,
This poem will only lay some light on it,
Through the history & mankind's irony.

Istanbul was settled as a Greek colonial city,
'Twas named Byzantium after a Greek king,
And the Old Greek king's name was Byzas.

The Romans under Constantine won over it,
Now it was their turn to rename the city,
After the emperor as Constantinople.

The great Turks captured it in 1453 AD lastly,
The fabulous fortress was renamed yet again,
The present name Istanbul descended in 1923.
What an admirable city!
Be it the Greek Byzantium,
The Roman Constantinople,
The Turkish capital Istanbul;
The city stands witness to rising & diminishing powers and also to humanity's greatest complex - the insecurity complex!
Everyone wants to leave behind some mark to be remembered, be it a city's name!
*******
A narrative historical poem for a change.
My HP Poem #387
©Atul Kaushal
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
Àŧùl
The disco-***** used to keep spinning,
From one girl to the other in vain,
Seeking nothing but true love.

The disco-***** can even stiffen a stick,
The naughty-but-untouched disco-stick,
The best dancer was all the time awaited.

The Union is going to take place,
On the night of disco's marriage,
Its thirst will finally be quenched.
You're to teach me as well how to dance!

My HP Poem #388
©Atul Kaushal
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
N23
If I were a bird
you would have crushed
                                             my wings
in your grip;

too mesmerized by my
silent song
to notice the rapid beating
of my heart
against your palm
as I struggled

                                                to fly away.
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
Sir B
I just read
Our old conversations
Before becoming bff's
Before even knowing each other
It's just
Such a warm feeling
To know you made it
So far
From
Home base.
I had nothing else to do but read our old conversations (I talk to lots of people so I read a lot for a day) it's beautiful how you transform!

Sir B over and out.
Pax.
Smile without the care in the world.

(Kinda long note, sorry!!)
 Aug 2013 Quentin Briscoe
Sir B
Late at night
When everything has stopped making noise
I start to fall asleep
But soon after
I wake up
In cold sweat
I look around and
Realize that my heart is stolen

By that special someone
They dared
To come at my house
Just to steal my heart
How brave
Yet foolish
To only take my heart

You should've taken me too
I wrote this to be a somewhat happy poem, hope you enjoyed it.

=)
Break the glass encased around
Hear the loud crashing sound
See amidst the shards you've found
Is a secret long since forgotten

Read the words upon the scroll
Etched in ink derived from soul
From half of one which once was whole
Thrown into bottomless sea

Pass each letter with your gaze
See this love, a trivial maze
Unfaded by a undaunting phrase
Oh sweet love, return again
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