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Ryan  May 2020
Exams
Ryan May 2020
School's coming to an end,
and it's GCSE's,
using all my expertise gained through-out the school years,
It could all end in tears.
Teachers say it's a big deal,
that's what they convey,
it is for them, anyway.

The last few weeks of term and you hand in your coursework,
that was fine, I wish I could shirk the exams,
not very good at revising,
but our teachers are advising us to watch GCSE Bitesize,
but it doesn't really cover what we've learned,
which is a bit of a concern.

We all cram into the exam hall,
it's a bit last minute,
but I'm trying to recall my revision notes.

An Inspector Calls by J.B Priestley,
something's stirring,
Arthur Birling,
a public scandal is too much to handle,
Eva Smith,
Eric and Gerald both had affairs,
but the latter actually cared.
That's a start, I guess.

The exam invigilator sets the clocks,
and permits one hour and forty-five minutes.
The Science exams are multiple-choice,
Biology is fine, but Physics and Chemistry haunt me.

Geography next,
tectonic plates,
and the traits of EDC's,
as well as Less Economically Developed Countries.

That's all over,
we await our mark,
the best part is still to come,
everyone meeting down the park,
and that too me is the abiding memory of my school days,
one last time we're all together in glorious weather,
before going our separate ways.
A beginner who is looking for some constructive feedback.
Patricia Drake Mar 2013
I cut myself
to see the blood
the contrast of red to the white
surface
to check
if there is still a heart beating
underneath the smooth
finish

I cut my children
but they don't notice
it is more like mental cropping.
I cut emotions
into bitesize portions
they can play with
and learn to become good
cutters themselves

My husband is a cutter too
he cuts attention
into little appetizers of affection
and serves it around
wearing a big generous smile
the biggest pieces are reserved
for the screen
and the xbox controller

I cut myself open
online
words gush out of the open wound
luring predators to feed
on dangerous conversations
inviting the Devil to join
as I don't trust the angels
who once lured me into this...
Author's note: I am not a cutter, nor do I cut or hurt my children. Cutting is to be seen as a metaphor for emotional neglect in a dysfunctional family.
Natt Rozanska  Aug 2010
London
Natt Rozanska Aug 2010
So maybe you've never been broken-hearted
never walked away
or left another standing in your indecisive wake
as I have,
because that's what this city means to me.
It's a throwback
neutral ground
somewhere to pretend under the garish glow of undying light
that we're living in a cartoon
a scripted glimpse
just a portion of our perfect lives
bitesize
ample
because that's enough of you.
I'm not talking to you any more
I'm talking to the one I left behind
amidst bright lights and roaring traffic
to script another episode
for my next five minutes of fame.
I hope I never see you in this city.
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
i have no reason for sun... bees have,
                          flowers have...
my eyes are reserved for greater pleasures,
bound to the meow... moon...
         oh crap...
       yellow... orange... red...
i hate daylight...
it's not even some sort of
urban fetish...
          my eyes are just too outer
urban... they're outer-suburbian,
bordering on village life...
       ****'s sake,
i use a computer wearing sunglasses,
most of the time, esp. at night;
listening to portishead
just takes the eye via the ear...
    and sleeping with a cat that
you fight with, when asleep,
and the cat ends up biting / scratching
your ear, so you end up bleeding on the pillow
that your head was rested on?
well... m'eh... just another
*** & ms. pepsi refill, basis
                      for a dionysus trance;
no, i get bleeding through your *** from
alcohol "abuse", but from ypur *******
ear?! your ear?
             i did get a nose bleed once
in english glass...
          who, the, ****, ever, heard, of, an, ear, bleed?
well... unless you're falling asleep with
a 10 kilogram maine **** cat....
      with both of you wrestling with each
other in your sleep... mother... ******!
when was the last time you heard someone
say: i bled through my ear... ?!
now... i love a cat's "snoring"... purring
the cat makes before he's (i'm a man...
i'll use he... not she... and it is just... ugh)...
it's a bit like snoring... only that they
imitate snoring... and purr...
                               prior to falling asleep
    and turning all stealth-mode silent.
ah... the demands of future, descriptive excesses,
in bitesize form of "poetry";
                 lucky us, jezebels of the arts;
i still can't believe how
           (well, the nag hammadi library),
or why, grammar became so popular, in
that it became political;
frankly... i like seeing the latter
from an archeological perspective, i,e. "catching-up"...
as far as politics goes... and what i deem
a mishandling of language by abusing
grammatical categorisations of words...
please... count me out from any "serious" discussion.
Purcy Flaherty May 2023
Like inquisitive children looking for a wormhole; attempting to discover and measure the infinite in bitesize chunks,.

armed with tiny numbers to crunch the infinite number; which is simultaneously  expanding into yet another infinity ...
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2021
in all honesty: i think that what Rick Rubin did to Johnny Cash could beat... even if an Elvis could be resurrected... there's no need...

what day is it today? i'm guessing it's a Tuesday...
it feels like a Tuesday....
i "ought" to feel like a Wednesday...
oh... wait... that's tomorrow...
only a minute from now...
it has been several days since i'm living alone
in a house with two cats...
i feed them without any regularity...
the raw turkey meat is cut up lying
in a bowl on the table...
the fridge is humming: it's full of food i will
never get through...
i tried to eat today: that's the thing about
living alone: you might mind the hygiene:
but in terms of eating one decent meal...
i forced myself to make some broccoli soup...
i forced myself to eat it...
with a decent amount of cheddar cheese...
and three slices of toasted sourdough
sunflower bread: no butter...
tomorrow i'm dreaming up...
i have some mushrooms that will go to waste...
i'm thinking creamy sauce pasta:
creamy mushroom pasta...
i was thinking risotto...
i have a spare stuffed capsicum in a tomato sauce...
i ate some figs with sour cream while
drinking some yerba mate green tea...
two glasses of full-cat... fat... milk
and two bitesize brownies...
but... eating when living alone is such a...
boring chore...
i don't want to eat alone: i rather starve myself...
drinking mr. whiskers & ms. amber isn't
a problem: oddly enough...
just the eating part:
no one ever shat themselves from not eating...
i'll drink the electrolytes to make sure
i have enough salts...
i saved the strawberries...
made a decent pulp juice for the gelato i will finish
off tomorrow...
i will not perform any house chores...
i have an excess of spring-onions:
i will use them instead of onions...
i also have too many lemons...
more ******* gelato...
   - and beside the crippling fear that comes with
noon and sunlight...
England's September: Indian Summer...
i ought to be doing something procreative...
crippled with a funny sort of fear
i fasted while turning into a couch potato...
managed to watch a film: FILTH...
i begged for the night to come...
listening to Teutonic songs... and other
medieval assortments...
watching THE LIGHTHOUSE really ****** me up...
it's like... the one movie BERGMAN didn't
make... it's such a pristine movie...
it's every movie i have ever seen
and more! the black & white canvas is esp.
convincing about the existential bleakness of life...
and around me... sure... life... happens...
people have children...
people take dogs for daily walks...
i sometimes wish i owned an aquarium
rather than a television set...
- but will not lemon juice cause the milk
to curdle?! will i be making cheesy lemon ice-cream?!
i need to look this detail up...
i'll need to water the garden...
i'll put off the house chores for a day or two...
i want the chores to make sense so i'll wait for
the dust to gather...
two spiders decided to make themselves known
in the kitchen... beside mosquitos i find
it almost impossible to **** insects...
even flies... of course i gag when seeing maggots...
in return i tend to give them a bleach bath...
which is not unlike
sprinkling salt on snails...
as my former girlfriend used to do in her youth:
funny... that...
i once came across two boys who would
smear lipstick on frogs and... subsequently set them
alight...
mosquitos i can ****...
maggots i can drown in a bleach soup
while i clean the dustbin...
- so the world around me happens...
people have invested themselves...
i ignite a candle... two...
scented... and think about those nights i spent
walking around in the graveyard to get
a proper kick out of myself...
- from time to time smoking a cigarette imbues
you with a hallucinatory aftertaste of:
something decently cooked... notably something
beef related... or mushrooms...
i'm dreaming of this... creamy mushroom sauce
i'll gobble down with linguine...
pretend to play the violin: imagine Waterloo Bridge...
but all i'm doing is fiddling with my
beard...so many people have move beyond:
have had their life...
while i'm still: as one ******* mentioned
while crying her eyes out
when i kissed her eyelids...
in her own words: you're still... the same...
i am? can you tell me... who i am?
i found around 70 units of Euros that
i will exchange for pounds...
and will cough up the dough
for an hour's worth of affection...
- for two days solid i was having these cold sweats...
falling in love with lying on
the floor... the floor was all i wanted to love...
it wasn't a bed... it wasn't cushions...
it was... something of an... asterisk: crucifix...
so much for life spent imitating
an indigestion of a boa constrictor...
i'll pretend to manage:
it's important for me to eat something
solo...
bad mushrooms...
as you usually get with spaghetti
in a creamy sauce:
i'm skidding further than i'm *******...
have we really: become...
all there is?
left? for the future...
at least the Africans have made up
more hustle with Christianity...
i can't buy into it...
for whatever is made available...
- the day makes me nervous...
i'm sad therefore i ******* to excess...
once the day ends...
the night begins...
it starts to rain...
             ancient tongues are spoken...
only today in the parking-lot
a... most blossoming of a woman in her...
oh... i suppose her... late 30s...
was pretending to be bothered about something
resembling a shopping-trolley...
i never had luck with women...
i had more target practice with prostitutes
and... that's just fine...
while Islam looks so... tremendously
brain-frozen... it has to look toward conquest
while its rotten core of Saudi Arabia
is a... sigh... the Dubai a city build on
sand surrounded by sea-water:
no river...
i need to think about making
that lemon gelato... i don't want to see
the milk curdle... i will not be making
a lemon-cheese gelato!
  - such are the modern times...
i sometimes envision... a people...
a freely giving world fit for exploration
and undeniable uncertainty...
not this...
     sorry... what is this?
             every single modern critique leaves me
melancholic...
every concern these moderns have leaves me
asking: when! since when"
has a slack of intelligence been
so rewarded that it must be:
critiqued: acknowledged...
at least the Soviets meant something...
this modernity: this sickness...
this... atomised... man...
i am: an atomised man...
                
          i conjure up a sense of belonging
that's dislocated from what once
belonged as: concern for lineage:
i write in English: i think in English...
i'm... half-born: integrated...
second-born... while i watch people like
my father with a bad english accent...
yet... wholly competent...
i have people still curious where
i'm from... on the subtle level...
in Essex: isn't the London metropolitan
clearly said: enough...

this land... England... is... here...
but i'm not...

in an older tongue: beside this cosmopolitan
Ing-Leash...
the world is known: it can no longer satisfy
a measure of... what could ever possibly be
"inquired": suspended in a wait...
in... a longing...
we have arrived and... we are not happy
to have arrived at this time...
oh: but the comforts are all there...
but i would give up...
all the pressures of the currency
of the now had certainty for...

for...
             give me! the expectancy of sorrow!
give me a life most brief!
not this... extension of life that becomes...
life abounding in the ownership of
things...

cages... cages.... nothing but cages...
give me the impossibility of the moon!
give me the myth of the moon back!
give, me, my... feet back!
i want to return to "something"
rotten: rotting... pure...
revised: amnesia riddled...
let me experience the same-old
the same-old anew... but no...
lucky loser pool of the bureaucratic
hive mind(s)...

conquest of space
but not the conquest of time...
the sea by some: "mediocre" man...
stretch any man...
count them... convert in order to
converse with them...
the pillow was acquired by...
replicating the idea of a cloud...

of this "life"... i want more!
i want to scream in the night!
i want to howl with the creatures
that make mans' hearts shiver...

liv venter: død parat...

it has rained so many times in the night...
the rain has... conquered the night:
so many times..
it has rained so many times in the night...
in the night... in the night...
true hearts were: spawned...
it has rained so many times in
the night...
Unitarian Universalist Church
situated in Cherry Hill, New Jersey,
whereat every Sunday morning, I
Matthew Scott Harris) blessedly zoom
virtually attend congregation
(recent attendee) experience

fellowship, albeit an outlier,
these two score plus one year out the womb,
glad mine eldest sister (Amelie) informed
her only brother (me) opportunity tomb
make living social occasion linkedin,
(albeit) remote from Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.

Yours truly spurred to articulate,
how con brio panache wisdom and wit
communicated courtesy aforementioned minister
thus thank you very much Margret O'Neall
ye infuse engaging monologues with esprit
de corps - spellbinding sermons also leavened
wordsworth their weight in... oreos, I admit

cannot eat one, which craving
sly advertisements transmit
subliminal creme filled messages tasty habit
forming just desserts, no matter tummy full
bitesize goodies stuffed in mouth before exit
ting table, no matter uncouth and unhealthy
stomach distress within abdominal pit.

The theme earlier yesterday September 27th, 2020 ye
presented, especially hit home hard, i.e.
regarding sincere apology,
cuz once rancor (bitter anger) rife between
mine nonagenarian widower papa and me,
whose sole son experienced harsh diatribes

against alienating, estranging, isolating... (see
pattern whereby introverted lad maintained
emotional, familial physical and social
distancing about three
times twenty decades before
coronavirus (COVID-19) precautions in vogue.

No matter unpleasant feelings festered ma lord
toward father and didst rent asunder
intractable mutual discord
which persisted for ages ambivalence scored
major points (oh... by the way...,
our dada twill soon ford
River Styx within netherlands,

cuz he not long for this world wide web)
thus for that reason, I dare not make hoo-ha,
nor federal case, and hence reconciliation explored
triggered partially in accord
with thought provoking exemplary disquisition
presented by Reverend Dr.
Margret A. O'Neall Developmental Minister.

Mortality foists incumbent task to make amends
doubly so since dearly departed mother
whose passing from terra firma extends,
fifteen plus Earth orbitz round the sun,

she never experienced friends'
with thyself (her aloof male offspring)
an existence of solitude he trends
thou promised himself to reach out
to father before his spirit inhabits netherlands.

— The End —