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The Noose
32/F/Standing on the gallows    Words are all I have. All original content ©2013-2024 The Noose
Mooseman55
“Any fool can make a rule, and any fool will mind it.” ― Henry David Thoreau
Loose thoughts
27/F    |[striving to portray her thoughts through poetry..]|

Poems

Payal ki chaan-chaan se chaanke
khanke ban kangan
oos ki bunde hai hum ladki
man hai ek darpan,

Humse hai ghar baar tumhara
humse hai aangan
oos ki bunde hai hum ladki
maan hai ek darpan,

Ladke hai wo prem ki jisme
hum tasweer sajaate
Haatho ki khalirekhao par
hum kishmat ban jaate
Humshe mahkata hai bachpan
aur sajta hai yowwan
oos ki bunde hai hum................
.........................................darp­an

Kabhi geet hai  kabhi gajal hai
aur kabhi angaar
Hum khubi se nibha rahe hai
apne sab kirdaar,
Chand sitare choo aaye hum
tood ke har bandhan
oos ki bunde..........
....................dhadkan

Hum hi wo maa hai jisne
iss dunia ko hai banaya
Patni Bhabhi Bahna Beti
ke rishto se hai sajaaya

Mat raundoo hum kalio ko
Mit jaayega Uppwan
oos ki bunde hai hum ladki
maan hai ek darpan....

(DEDICATED  TO EVERY GIRL)
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Says I to my Missis: "Ba goom, lass! you've something I see, on your mind."
Says she: "You are right, Sam, I've something. It 'appens it's on me be'ind.
A Boil as 'ud make Job jealous. It 'urts me no end when I sit."
Says I: "Go to 'ospittel, Missis. They might 'ave to coot it a bit."
Says she: "I just 'ate to be showin' the part of me person it's at."
Says I: "Don't be fussy; them doctors see sights more 'orrid than that."

So Misses goes off togged up tasty, and there at the 'ospittel door
They tells 'er to see the 'ouse Doctor, 'oose office is Room Thirty-four.
So she 'unts up and down till she finds it, and knocks and a voice says: "Come in,"
And there is a 'andsome young feller, in white from 'is 'eels to 'is chin.
"I've got a big boil," says my Missis. "It 'urts me for fair when I sit,
And Sam (that's me 'usband) 'as asked me to ask you to coot it a bit."
Then blushin' she plucks up her courage, and bravely she shows 'im the place,
And 'e gives it a proper inspection, wi' a 'eap o' surprise on 'is face.
Then 'e says wi' an accent o' Scotland: "Whit ye hae is a bile, Ah can feel,
But ye'd better consult the heid Dockter; they caw him Professor O'Niel.
He's special for biles and carbuncles. Ye'll find him in Room Sixty-three.
No charge, Ma'am. It's been a rare pleasure. Jist tell him ye're comin' from me."

So Misses she thanks 'im politely, and 'unts up and down as before,
Till she comes to a big 'andsome room with "Professor O'Neil" on the door.
Then once more she plucks up her courage, and knocks, and a voice says: "All right."
So she enters, and sees a fat feller wi' whiskers, all togged up in white.
"I've got a big boil," says my Missis, "and if ye will kindly permit,
I'd like for to 'ave you inspect it; it 'urts me like all when I sit."
So blushin' as red as a beet-root she 'astens to show 'im the spot,
And 'e says wi' a look o' amazement: "Sure, Ma'am, it must hurt ye a lot."
Then 'e puts on 'is specs to regard it, and finally says wi' a frown:
"I'll bet it's as sore as the divvle, especially whin ye sit down.
I think it's a case for the Surgeon; ye'd better consult Doctor Hoyle.
I've no hisitation in sayin' yer boil is a hill of a boil."

So Misses she thanks 'im for sayin' her boil is a hill of a boil,
And 'unts all around till she comes on a door that is marked: "Doctor Hoyle."
But by now she 'as fair got the wind up, and trembles in every limb;
But she thinks: "After all, 'e's a Doctor. Ah moosn't be bashful wi' 'im."
She's made o' good stuff is the Missis, so she knocks and a voice says: "Oos there?"
"It's me," says ma Bessie, an' enters a room which is spacious and bare.
And a wise-lookin' old feller greets 'er, and 'e too is togged up in white.
"It's the room where they coot ye," thinks Bessie; and shakes like a jelly wi' fright.
"Ah got a big boil," begins Missis, "and if ye are sure you don't mind,
I'd like ye to see it a moment. It 'urts me, because it's be'ind."
So thinkin' she'd best get it over, she 'astens to show 'im the place,
And 'e stares at 'er kindo surprised like, an' gets very red in the face.
But 'e looks at it most conscientious, from every angle of view,
Then 'e says wi' a shrug o' 'is shoulders: "Pore Lydy, I'm sorry for you.
It wants to be cut, but you should 'ave a medical bloke to do that.
Sye, why don't yer go to the 'orsespittel, where all the Doctors is at?
Ye see, Ma'am, this part o' the buildin' is closed on account o' repairs;
Us fellers is only the pynters, a-pyntin' the 'alls and the stairs."
zebra Dec 2016
ill take you slow
over the long night
it could be our own party
of tender kisses and blood letting
your coos and soft whispers
a cut
oh daddy
another mmmm
kisses that drool tears
your ******* soaked through
do you have any idea how sweet that is for me
its the perfect wordless compliment to a man
like when i ***
deep in your sweet *****
or looking into your fire eyes
your mouth
shimmering
blood on white teeth pearls
drenched
loves trove
how could it ever end
sweet languishing
bloodalicious tongue
coos and oos and tender cries
as i undo you my sweet darling
your belly and **** blood soaked
for kisses and licks sake
turbulent mouths
as it drizzles and pools at your pretty feet
after devils play
i cinch you up with soft gauze
your **** death skirt
red splotch print
gaudy
my **** down your throat
a bloated jelly lozenge
you look up so bright
gleeful
knowing the coup de grah is coming
your in the mood you said
and call DO MEEEEEEEEEEE
i grab the shank of your hair firmly
ecstatic
and slit your neck wide and deep
you blink and shudder
as your smile morphs
to exquisite horror
a baffled grimace
o sweet surprise face
an eye floating in mud
then darting wild
wonderment
skull sockets like melting moons
mouth
a ****, like twisted metal
your new world
in ten seconds, a dim smudge
doped
evaporating
a ghastly pleasure
sets my soul feral
disavowing lifes clatter
you feel  a dark caress
but whos
dissolutions embrace
oh **** witch
terrors grace
to fall through
the ******* hole
as i flood you
with ***** white rushing panic
butter butter butter
and watch you squirt rhythmically
the last quart of blood you've got
your arteries
empty tunnels
your mouth plush red
hysterical mutterings
only gasps
bewilderment dissipation
till you slump
a ruined creel
glittering
your **** and ****
a stained camellia
your womb silky kisses steadfast
caressing **** till dark
your sworn promise kept
black candles flicker
until last light
i would whisper
oooooooooooh
my beloved
and cu cu cu cu cummmmm
only a few beats to go now
you widen your haunches
and make ready
for last *****'s wave
last thump
blood pulse
your surrender
gasum tsunami
paradise

then deaths rattle
pyres and fires
like a small house
a blazing ruin
left
collapsing in on itself
popping cherry red embers
smoke and ash
my beloved a memory
held forever
pristine
tears tears tears
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story not judge me  although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about