'cribbing' poems - Hello Poetry

Jude kyrie Dec 2018

Oxford lovers..a short love story by jude kyrie

Jude kyrie Dec 2018

Oxford lovers..a short love story by jude kyrie

Neither one of them knew when the rivalry began.
It was certainly in their infancy.
Rachel Huntington was twenty
a star scholar at Oxford university.
Matthew fotheringham was the same age
also a star scholar
They excelled in the study of English literature
having read all of the aincent and modern classics in high school.
It was known that saint Hilda's college at Oxford
regarded Rachel as  the most  gifted student
they had seen for years.
In his group the same was said for Matthew.

They shared the same advanced literature class
and the tension between then was palatable.
She would put forward a proposition
on Shakespeare repeated usage of
Iambic pentameter.
And Matthew would destroy her concept
with a detailed analysis of his works.

Have you been  cribbing with Cole's notes
he would add in disdain.
Rebecca hated him
calling him insufferably conceited and a total buffoon.

He once went to her dorm
to pick up an ancient script
she had borrowed from the library , the only copy.
He phoned from the hall
shall I come up to your room
And pick it up.
Rachel shouted No!
I will bring it down to you.
You are never to come up to my dorm.
It's not that I wouldn't allow a man up here
But if anyone were to see you leaving
and got the wrong idea.
I don't want them to think I have no taste
and low standards in boyfriends.
And that's how it went on.

Then the literature guilds competition had been announced
Scholars from all over Europe
were to present their essays of no less than 25 thousand words and the winner would receive 25 thousand guineas
but more importantly that opened the door
to the chairs of literature all through the continent.

The rivalry escalation was at fever pitch.
Matthew worked  75. Hour weeks on his essay
Rachelle kept up with him never wasting a single moment.
The class bookmaker has had narrow odds on the winner it one of these two.

They went to the presentation hall
and entered the book sized essays
sealed in manilla envelopes
Rachel quipped,you don't have a chance,
you couldn't copy mine.
Matthew said,
I hope they don't use the new plagiarism software
you have probably stole yours from the internet.
I already have made plans for my winnings he bragged.
What a good plated pocket protector
and  a girl friend you just add air too.
Matthew was hurt
Particularly at the insult
that he had a blow up plastic girlfriend.
He remembered humor was the best defence
it showed they could not hurt you.
I only bought her for driving
on the diamond lanes on the highway.
Anyhoo nothing happened between us
until that last night of term
When we drank too much wine.
Rachel walked off in disgust
As he yelled so all could here
She's better in bed than you will ever be .

It was two weeks to the announcement of the contest winners.
No use worrying about it Matthew said
He went for a long evening stroll by the river.
As he turned on the river bend he saw Rachel
She was crying say beneath a huge willow tree.

For once he did not have a smart quip or an insult.
He walked to her and sat down next to her.
Why are you weeping ? Rachel he asked gently.
She had never ever heard his voice so soft.
My father died last night. She sobbed.
It occurred to Matthew he knew nothing of her life.
I am so sorry what happened
He was the clergyman at Saint Monica's Anglican Church
He had cancer and never let me know.
It had taken all his savings to get me through Oxford.
And he did not want me to lose focus.
Then she wept freely
Matthew held her close to him she wept on his his shoulder
His fingers gently touched her reddish auburn hair.
It was soft she smelt of lavender soap it was nice.
I ...I have to go to Stow  on the wold, tomorrow for the funeral.
I shall take you there
Do you have a car she asked.
Yes I have a twenty year old MG convertible.
My dad bought me when I got into Oxford.
It was arranged he picked her up
and off to the funeral they went .

He never felt as comfortable
or comforting in all his life.
He was seeing her in a new light
after all the stupid years.
They arrived at the old vicarage
Mrs Evans the housekeeper hugged them both
It's about time you got your pretty nose
out of those old dusty books
And got yourself a boyfriend.
The weird part was neither one of them
corrected Mrs Evans.

The funeral took place
And they set back along the old country roads to the university.
They talked about literature art poets and writers.
Then the old engine conked out.
Miles from anywhere
You need to go get petrol she said.

But there's no station between here and Oxford said Michael.
The phone signal was not reaching them.
We have to sleep in the car for the night.
Rachel said as long as you don't get any ideas.
You are not my type.

He was going to tell her she was his type
but said nothing.
It was freezing in the night Rachel was shivering
He took off his coat and jacket
and put them over her in the back seat
As he shivered frozen in the front seat.

In the early morning they woke up
She stepped out of the car and stretched
Matthew was on one knee in front of her
What are doing she asked?
What does it look like I am doing ?
I am proposing that you become my wife.
Never! never! never !
After all the insults you have laid upon me.
Well I'm I'm sorry he whispered.
Not good enough she shouted.

Do you have the guts to make a bet with me Matthew asked.?
Her reddish hair answered the challenge
Just try me.
OK if I win the award you will become my wife.
If I win then you get lost and marry the blow up lady.she countered.
Well the challenge was a tough one
If she did not accept it it was saying he was smarter than her and she knew it.
If she accepted it was the opposite.
OK you have a deal.

A week later Matthew was working in the library
The prize winners are being posted on the notice board.
He felt a gasp in his chest
As he reached the crowd of students he saw Rachel
She even had a trace of makeup on she was now
Getting to look beautiful to him.
Good luck rachel he whispered I hope you win.
She knew he meant it but she remembered the wager.
She said softly I hope it's you that wins Mathew.
A young woman rushed out of the crowd
Rachelle you won you won.
Mathews heart sank
Congratulations Rachel I am so happy for you.
She felt a tear selling in her eye
Mathew where are you going she said.
You told me to go And marry my send away lady
that you just add air to.
If I lost the bet and you won Rachel.
And her heart sank in her chest.

Then the young woman saw him
Matthew congratulations you won.
She showed him a copy of the winners notice.
It had a note
In all the years of the competition we have never had two such magnificent essays
The adjudicator's were unable to mark one better than the other
We have shared the prize to two winners for the very first time.
Rachel held Mathew close and kissed him fully and hard.
Not caring who was watching.
He kissed her back
The crowd were astonished
their feud was legendary at Oxford.

Two years later.

Matthew strolled in the park with the twins
and his beloved wife Rachel.
She had married him
a week after the award ceremony at Oxford.
It was said in the coffee room that the university
had never had two professors
as much in love as them
they were now both  teaching in the English department
and we're already in competition for their tenure.
But they never spent a moment appart.

He picked up the twins
and shouted his love for Rachel
on the top of his voice.
The evening breeze picked up the perfume
of the fallen leaves.
Rachel smiled at him
and whispered softly
I love you too dearest.

She felt him slip into that private room in her heart
that she always saved for her soulmate
As he entered the room holding their two babies.
She locked the door behind him
with the only key that existed.
And then she threw it
into the dense woodlands of Oxfordshire
Never to found again.

Opposites yet so alike .
The best kind of connection.
Jude

Mateuš Conrad Sep 2015

in a turk shop

Mateuš Conrad Sep 2015

in a turk shop

it's not the case of irrationality with the usage of pronouns as a way of being assertive away from the existentialist dittoing of the pronouns; even if i utilise the pronoun to be a noun or a verb via dittoing, with the framework of an esp. exemplar "irrationality," i am still, after all, the speaker of the noun and verbs, and the keeper of them; i am not irrational to the extent that i ditto myself outside of other categorisations of words, since dittoing myself within the pronoun category opens the accusation that i use all other words with ambiguity while allowing no moral ambiguity into my actions - but there is a clear morality to the use of words as the worthwhile exchange of meaning, in newtonian sense in the least and foremost not going beyond the dropped stone or insinuation of passerby engagement into games - but clear crisp cut - silk scarf tagged twelve quid was sold on the haggle for ten quid - so that haggling wasn't an ambiguity, but the price of the scarf was! so how many sexualised insinuations have i heard with impromptu to no action?! too many! all of them declassified from furthering action because of too much innuendo and nuance of that famous disguised dialectics lost - known as the death of god. cartesian in existentialist terms, thinking presupposed as the notation via "i." thought no longer as an existential certainty... but because of the dittoing of pronouns... an... ambiguity! well it was originally an ambiguity, but why excess pausing to counter? the english are a nation of shopkeepers... yes... and the french are a bunch of nosy café patrons with rude lovers disguised as bartenders muscle aching to munch the next croissant in drag and feel sexed up gagging.

verum, ego scribere similis rumi*; scribbles and similitude -
worth an afghan worth of eyes in syria for an afghan girl
saying to her loved up something or other:
see it come back, god forbid you hear the calculative laugh
of augustus on the way back, just while europe resigns from involving
the remnant slavs like libyans or syrians or hebrews in the original format
of strength: let the hebrews deal with them
in their own vatican - we need to curb north africans
and the mid-middle-eastern olives
when taking over the northern peoples for economic harvests.
but then the madman laughed without ordinance and impunity -
he laughed augustus' rationalism into the grave of choking chock fudge brussels
with spare tonsils eating nothing but cauliflower and lard -
elsewhere in movie via ghent; or was it in bruges or
was it in brussels starring jean claude van damme?
i call it... writers went mad on excess phonetics never readied
or introduced - except with magritte wearing a diaper
rather than a full james bond when painting.
i heard it was a proper heist to keep the police numbers handy,
i had it all tanned in argumentation for hued brown in the nordic
special; oddly enough no nordic special sailed for a sinking of the vasa
with predestination - airport was nice - we argued then -
we're not a continent of north harmonicas with jokes
between mythological four lead clovers and oak real canada threesomes.
well i was a continent with croatian and scandinavian,
i'm not originally a mc donald continent - although that 'MADE IN CHINA'
helps to resolve all future wars with the silkworm beginning:
rodeo in the haven of horse's burp and fall of the cheap spain due to tourism -
old continental had corrida - new continent has rodeo -
somewhere between the ****** and maidens came oceans elves for a bet on
who could write a horse out from riding into a blunt metal clasp of stirrup eager sounds:
or a twenty aged colt sounding like an eighty year old nail wrinkled with rust hammered.
blunt metal won, horse gasped for air, the ***** was taken home with stitches,
the maiden was taken home with a groom in stitches also, although
stitches of old age prior asked for in her meringue dress to suit: wrinkles;
but hey! there's **** in between! who's the loser, the aviator or the aqua puncture of thought?
but still augustus laughed it off with nero on the waiting list of possible re-encounters;
israel received the southern cicero of the roman empire,
while the rekindled empire got the north-eastern and northern part of
the unexplored without saints travelling elsewhere,
and for that it got implosions, with the schengen approval reminded
to cloister the leftists eager to holiday in syria on unesco cruises in sand and sheep ****
of kept marble - for that cocktail party convo, and next day article in the new yorker;
shame on you for using children to ploy en masse morality of guilt
to later reproduce the hydra with so much racist cribbing
of a seahorse riddling perpetual dynamos
as to imagine the future cot rock-a-baby-jihadi saladin:
the fire is in his own house, runs with a
flaming matchstick to his "neighbour's house"
to start the fire rather than trying to put the fire out in his own house.
honestly? sounds a bit binary in bangladeshi.

Jude kyrie Jan 2017

Oxford Lovers.....Short love story from Jude kyrie

Jude kyrie Jan 2017

Oxford Lovers.....Short love story from Jude kyrie

Neither one of them knew when the rivalry began. It was certainly in their infancy.
Rachel Huntington was twenty  a star scholar at Oxford university.
Matthew fotheringham was the same age also a star scholar
They excelled in the study of English literature having read all of the aincent and modern classics in high school.
It was known that saint Hilda's college at Oxford regarded Rachel as  the most  gifted student they had seen for years.
In his group the same was said for Matthew.
They shared the same advanced literature class and the tension between then was palatable.
She would put forward a proposition on Shakespeare repeated usage of
Iambic pentameter.
And Matthew would destroy her concept with a detailed analysis of his works
Have you been  cribbing with Cole's notes he would add in disdain.
Rebecca hated him calling him insufferably conceited and a total buffoon.
He once went to her dorm to pick up an ancient script she had borrowed from the library the only copy.
He phoned from the hall shall I come up to your room
And pick it up.
Rachel shouted No!
I will bring it down to you.
You are never to come up to my dorm.
It's not that I wouldn't allow a man up here
But if anyone were to see you leaving and got the wrong idea.
I don't want them to think I have no taste and low standards in boyfriends.
And that's how it went on.

Then the literature guilds competition had been announced
Schoolers from all over Europe were to present their essays of no less than 25 thousand words and the winner would receive 25 thousand guineas but more importantly that opened the door to the chairs of literature all through the continent.

The rivalry escalation was at fever pitch.
Matthew worked  75. Hour weeks on his essay
Rachelle kept up with him never wasting a single moment.
The class bookmaker has had narrow odds on the winner it one of these two.

They went to the presentation hall and entered the book sized essays sealed in manilla envelopes
Rachel quipped you don't have a chance you couldn't copy mine.
Matthew said I hope they don't use the new plagiarism software you have probably stole yours from the internet.
I already have made plans for my winnings he bragged.
What a good plated pocket protector and  a girl friend you just add air too.
Matthew was hurt
Particularly at the insult that he had a blow up plastic girlfriend.
He remembered humor was the best defence it showed they could not hurt you.
I only bought her for driving on the diamond lanes on the highway.
Anyhoo nothing happened between us until that last night of term
When we drank too much wine.
Rachel walked off in disgust
As he yelled so all could here
She's better in bed than you will ever be .

It was two weeks to the announcement of the contest winners.
No use worrying about it Matthew said
He went for a long evening stroll by the river.
As he turned on the river bend he saw Rachel
She was crying say beneath a huge willow tree.

For once he did not have a smart quip or an insult.
He walked to her and sat down next to her.
Why are you weeping Rachel he asked gently.
She had never ever heard his voice so soft.
My father died last night. She sobbed.
It occurred to Matthew he knew nothing of her life.
I am so sorry what happened
He was the clergyman at Saint Monica's Anglican Church
He had cancer and never let me know.
It had taken all his savings to get me through Oxford.
And he did not want me to lose focus.
Then she wept freely
Mathew held her close to him she wept on his his shoulder
His fingers gentle touched her reddish suborn hair.
It was soft she smelt of lavender soap it was nice.
I ...I have to go to Stowe  on the wold tomorrow for the funeral.
I shall take you there
Do you have a car she asked.
Yes I have a twenty year old MG convertible. My dad bought me when I got into Oxford.
It was arranged he picked her up and off to the funeral they went .
He never felt as comfortable or comforting in all his life.
He was seeing her in a new light after all the stupid years.
They arrived at the old vicarage
Mrs Evans the housekeeper hugged them both
It's about time you got your pretty nose out of those old dusty books
And got yourself a boyfriend.
The weird part was neither one of them corrected Mrs Evans.

The funeral took place
And they set back along the old country roads to the university.
They talked about literature art posts and writers.
Then the old engine conked out.
Miles from anywhere
You need to go get petrol she said.
But there's no station between her and Oxford
The phone signal was not reaching them.
We have to sleep in the car for the night.
Rachel said as long as you don't get any ideas.
You are not my type.
He was going to tell her she was his type but said nothing.
It was freezing in the night Rachel was shivering
He took off his coat and jacket and put them over her in the back seat
As he shivered frozen in the front seat.
In the early morning they woke up
She stepped out of the car and stretched
Matthew was on one knee in front of her
What are doing she asked?
What does it look like I am doing ?
I am proposing that you become my wife.
Never! never! never !
After all the insults you have laid upon me.
Well I'm I'm sorry
Not good enough she shouted.

Do you have the guts to make a get with me Matthew asked.?
Her reddish hair answered the challenge
Just try me.
OK if I  win the award you will become my wife.he said.
If I  win you get lost and marry the blow up lady.she countered.
Well the challenge was a tough one
If she did not accept it it was saying he was smarter than her and she knew it.
If she accepted it was the opposite.
OK you have a deal.

A week later Matthew was working in the library
The prize winners are being posted on the notice board.
He felt a gasp in his chest
As he reached the crowd of students he saw Rachel
She even had a trace of make-up on she was now
Getting to look beautiful to him.
Good luck rachel he whispered I hope you win.
She knew he meant it but she remembered the wager.
She said softly I hope it's you that wins Mathew.
A young woman rushed out of the crowd
Rachelle you won you won.
Mathews heart sank
Congratulations Rachel I am so happy for you.
She felt a tear selling in her eye
Mathew where are you going
You told me to go And marry my send away lady that you just add air too
If I lost the bet you won Rachel.
And her heart sank in her chest.
Then the young woman saw him
Matthew congratulations you won.
She showed him a copy of the winners notice.
It had a note
In all the years of the competition we have never had two such magnificent essays
The adjudicator's were unable to mark one better than the other
We have shared the prize to two winners for the very first time.
Rachel held Mathew code and kissed him fully and hard. Not caring who was watching. He kissed her back
The crowd were astonished their tied was legendary at Oxford.

Two years later.
Matthew strolled in the park with the twins and his beloved wife Rachel.
She had married him a week after the award ceremony at Oxford.
It was said in the coffee room that the university had never had two professors as much in love as them they were now teaching in the English department and we're already in competition for their tenure.
But they never spent a moment appart.

He picked up the twins and shouted his love for Rachel on the top of his voice.
The evening breeze picks up the perfume of the fallen leaves.
Rachel smiled at him and whispered softly I love you too dearest.
She felt him slip into that private room in her heart that she always saved for her soulmate
As he entered the room holding their two babies.
She locked the door behind him with the only key that existed.
And then she threw  it into the dense woodlands of Oxfordshire
Never to found again.

All's well that ends well
Nice play
Shakespeare

Ashwin Kumar Dec 2022

How Would I Like To Be Loved?

Ashwin Kumar Dec 2022

How Would I Like To Be Loved?

How would I like to be loved?
It is a very difficult question
Because, though I appear, at first glance
To be "The Guy Next Door"
The reality, I assure you, is entirely different
Firstly, every individual is different
Secondly, I am autistic
And finally
There is so much about me
That you will get to know
Only if you are a good friend of mine

How would I like to be loved?
Well, let me tell you
Love is not all about candlelight dinners
Nor is it about *** in the bedroom
It is about being there for each other
No matter what
If I truly love someone
I would be ready to go to jail for her
Of course, not if it is for something ethically wrong
But you get the idea

How would I like to be loved?
If you have seen the Tamil movie "Thiruchitrambalam"
Then you would understand
If I were to say
That I want someone to love me
The way Nithya Menen loved Dhanush
In that amazing movie

How would I like to be loved?
If you've seen me at my worst
One of those days
When I am in one of my rages
And keep shouting and breaking things
Or I lose my focus at work
Due to all my insecurities
Rearing their ugly heads
Or I simply drown myself in my thoughts
Refusing to come out of my bed
Or I cry like a child
Drowning myself in a tidal wave of self-pity
And you still love me the same
As you did when I was at my best
Then it is indeed true love
Enough said

How would I like to be loved?
When I hear one of Harris Jayaraj's romantic melodies
And can instantly relate to it
I know that I am in love
And that love is real, not reel

How would I like to be loved?
If you ask me how was my day
And I go on and on
Droning about the technicalities of my work
Or cribbing about various issues
Such as candidates, clients or my boss
And you never tire of listening to me
Then I know you are truly in love
Also, if I keep asking you how was your day
Every single day after work
And you never once tire of answering such a mundane question
If that is not true love
I don't know what is!
And on that note
It's time to wrap up this little monologue
And return to hard reality

Self-explanatory!!

#beinginlove #truelove #romance #romantic #intenselove #tilldeathdousapart #whatislove

Sheldon Dsouza Feb 2015

Realization 101

Sheldon Dsouza Feb 2015

Realization 101

Sitting out here on the perch,
In the deepest depths of my mind I search.
Searching for memories in the past,
Guess good things have never been made to last.

Leaving behind the cherished few,
I set out on a journey I ne'er knew.
Leaving behind the place to which I belonged,
On a call I waited for and longed.

Was it the right thing to do,
There may have been another option or two.
Back then I had no option or so I thought,
Within myself a hundred voices I fought.

I travelled far and wide,
Following life wherever it took me.
Lone and lost with no one to confide,
I carried looking for someone to walk by my side.

Flying over a sea of sadness,
Lost as the day goes into darkness.
If I fall would there be anyone to raise me up,
Or will I be the forgotten one?

Words only lead me to the cracks in my disguise,
A mask I once put on to cover the helpless cries.
My flesh a prison for the man behind these eyes,
Wanting to break loose from these ties.

Often the question to me is put,
What changed when here you laid your foot?
What made me withdraw myself into this shell?
I pondered hoping something would ring a bell.

The winds blew hard just then,
I rose and fell for ten times ten.
Thats when it struck me like a lightning bolt,
Life has changed its pace and Id felt the jolt.

Cribbing and crying I was till now,
Always doubting and raising that eyebrow.
Well life doesn't care not a single bit,
You gotta be fit or thats it.

Be assured you are gonna be tossed and rolled,
May be once, twice or even ten times fold.
Your mettle will be tested no doubt,
Cant afford to let loose or grow stout.

Travelling at speeds never seen before,
Flying into my future and what was in store.
I still cribbed upon the moments I couldn't capture,
The short meetings and departures.

Well I was wrong about that I knew not then,
The moments will come again you know not when.
It aint and never will be in the hands of men,
But you will definitely be greeted by those moments again.

A word you may not recieve from the cherished few,
For long you could go without those moments sweet as dew.
Forgotten you may think you are but you're not,
Always remembered and awaited for by that huge lot.

Right then I saw everything clearly,
I could stretch my wings freely now.
I was back to my old self again,
Finally out of my dark murky den...

Karishma Chokshi Mar 2015

Coz Life Goes On...

Karishma Chokshi Mar 2015

Coz Life Goes On...

Don't quite understand why people keep crying,
Cribbing about things, cursing their fate all the time.
As if tortured by life, sulking and sighing,
Not realizing that everything would eventually be fine!

Being dejected by the minor downfalls in life,
Depressed as the moments unfold unexpected.
Forgetting that they are the gist of being alive,
Without which the upheavals wouldn't be augmented!

Lamenting on their past, not focusing on the present,
Too busy regretting, mourning and grieving,
Observing and noticing only the unpleasant,
Failing to grasp the true essence of living!

So just break all barriers and breathe free,
Remember, there was a reason you were born!
No matter how difficult, just let it be,
Coz the only truth is- life goes on!

#love #life #laugh #enjoy #itgoeson #livefully #breathefree #youliveonlyonce #livelifekingsize

Tanya Chaudhary Sep 2014

Dear Best Friend, this is for you.

Tanya Chaudhary Sep 2014

Dear Best Friend, this is for you.

Somewhere between coffee and stupid talks
And infinite random city tours & walks.

The movie marathons and midday naps
Exquisite food and memories gift wrapped.

G-talk sessions and plane tickets to anywhere with you along
While in the journey, discovering our new favorite song.

Imaginary burn books and death glares,
Silent sentences spoken through stares.

Late night calls and whispers in the dark,
Threatening any guy who dares to break our heart.

Never judging each other and reading one’s mind
My love for ***** and your love for Wine.

“I am undateable” to “Open Up” monologues.
Putting up with the drama of all the loves lost.

Making pop culture references and finding it normal.
I don’t remember the last time we were ever formal.

Of making our fool in front of the ‘classy’ audience
And continuing doing that with elan and confidence.

Our love for wanderlust. Places far and bizarre.
To spend thrifting and getting broke in a hep bazaar.

Overeating and then cribbing about our weight.
To consoling ourselves that “him” is worth the wait.

Of nagging parents and relatives that crib.
Of closing our eyes and letting things slip.

Quick fights and quicker reconciliation.
Sharing deep secrets & deeper confessions.

It is between being mistaken for Lesbians
And being mistaken for Sisters.

Our ballad is a roller coaster ride that only goes up
Our ballad is all these things & more, ready to erupt.

Clare Apr 2013

he Was the face of freedom

Clare Apr 2013

he Was the face of freedom

I met him on board the van,
Fiery and uncontrollable
against the heavily guarded windows.
He fought not with fists,
His weapons were slogans and songs
that shook the foundations
of a corrupt seat, a corrupt army.

How many times I had seen
him march the corridors,
His eyes set, his voice strong,
He was the face of freedom
and the fight for it.
To see him the same in the van,
it warmed my heart, gave me courage.

It was all over in a minute
A confusion, a push, a fall
And a flight outside the van.

They say he hit the limits
and his head exposed to all.
Some say it was a violent blow
And the "Gods" struck him down...
The rallies have broken,
People are back to cribbing
But none would walk his path
They fear, and rightly so,the aftermath.

My heart goes out to a brave young political activist from Eastern India. He was, and is, an inspiration for many. May his soul rest in peace.

Jayantee Khare Nov 2017

Important Reminder #2

Jayantee Khare Nov 2017

Important Reminder #2

Today another beautiful day
A gift by Almighty...

I am given chance to welcome it by frown or smiling face
I welcome the day by smiling face

I am given a choice to be sad or happy
I choose happiness

I am given a choice to feel empty or content
I choose to feel content

I am empowered to spread joy or glum
I choose to spread joy

I am enabled to dance or lazing around
I choose to dance joyfully

I am capable of singing or cribbing
I choose to sing cheerfully

I am given a choice to be grateful or to be regretful
I choose to be grateful to almighty, nature, people, life, lessons, blessings and every everything

This write is dedicated to Star BG...My inspiration to feel positive.... she is a blessing... she is an angel assigned to spread love, joy, positivity by her presence. Thnx sbg for being there. Thnx for showing up. And and the time is 11.11. It has confirmed what i wrote abt sbg. Tonnes of love sbg.. no words to express my emotions fr u.

#starbg #positivity

Amy Grindhouse Jan 2017

Degrees of Separation

Amy Grindhouse Jan 2017

Degrees of Separation

In frozen terrain
with ash set ablaze
we stand together
through chilling nights
and searing days
Two forlorn war torn refugees
cribbing messy illustrations
of listless ****** creeps
hanging out on the back balconies
watching aimless graveyards
where cyber-gridlocked dissidents
reluctantly go to die
But we remain
and through the strain
the wrong side of history stares us down
with viper haired stone sober gaze
We ignore their judgement
and thirty pieces of silver
and instead scrape together
fists full of dollars and hopes
of change
to guard against
their pointless mutual choke point
when they absurdly perceive
our attempted dignity
and fragile windowsill garden
as signs of sinister takeover
Even as it all collapses at their necrosis
riddled feat they
diminish and return
Assets freeze and insults burn
threatening to bring forth
the death part
of that 'until death do us part' line
before we ever had a chance
to make that pact
Still
in the grim twilight of anguished
frostburn soliloquy
whispered by a tired world
begging to expire
You will always be
a godsend
and my reason to survive
against the fury
of a planet besieged
by endless storms
of ice and fire

— The End —