well..
                                                  with the English
being so: oh so
                        ******* welcoming
i'd rather be remembered
                                              as a full-throttle
                      wanking rather than
a raving-ape's worth
of ᛈ ᛁ < ᛏ ᛋ (kap c! kap c!
                Cierkiev uno bud!
i uno buda!
                                                        Rrrrrr'am!
                serpentine's clue)
   Chernobyl charcoal,
or as some like to keep the
entertainment checks:
             a loss...
the famous Krakow smog...
                          leftover chimneys
to blame...
                            i don't
need a paddy to teach me how to
behave among the Anglo...
                             the Anglo who
lost his way among Germans and the Norse...
                 when the Russian Empire fell...
because one cousin said to another cousin
cussing: to hell with you!
                                    i don't need
a paddy for that...
   the paddy can play chequers and
river-dance till the nymphs come home...
sure, the paddy can do that...
           on arable land the paddy can what
the paddy must... mustard tatties...
             believably edible...
                                you know,
every man has his limits...
             my limit was agitated,
the paddy ate k.f.c.,
          and i too said to him:
               well, it's a two way street...
               you empathise with me
i'll empathise with you...
      you don't empathise with me
                     i'll see you in the sewer
and call it: the rats' livelihood worth of nibbling
     a narrative of the black death
worth a Madam Tussaud's examination
for worth of anaesthetic... torturing wax...
                  of all the islander tribes,
the Welsh are docile, the Scots
are: who invented copper wire?
to Scotsmen arguing and pulling a copper
two pence coin apart,
                      North Irish is Yates -
    "south" or republican is
              Joyce in Paris... Dublin
        and the thought of dungarees...
                      why the **** did i ever become
    involved with these cousins conjuring
        fake birth certificates?! why?!
i don't belong here... my motto still stands:
          among the Faroe Islanders
and the Orca slaughter for the red sea!
              the English were humbled in Germany
and never to be seen in Sweden...
     with Germanic roots...
the English are an embarrassment in
Scandinavia...
                        better sun-tanned propped
in Iberia...
                            or the call:
Hindenburg! Hindenburg! Blitz! Blitz!
  drink till you fiddle with your ****!
               up d'er balcony and
         somersault like a whale in a belly-flop
pose into the swimming pool! ploooooop!
belly splash and the beetroot suntan pinch
                      of cancer (zodiac alias of crab);
forever brother v. brother,
               as ever... a civil war...
               i actually celebrate the
unwelcoming nature of the English...
                    because i know they're
what the Turks say of Saxons: pseudo...
           the English can be English in Iberia
and what the Greeks say to be:
a reason to think...
                                  but if ever they were
found in Scandinavia
                                 they'd be frowned at...
mind you the Americans are worse...
                      they deem it necessary
                    to talk of conquest to invoke jealousy -
               i'm as jealous as you are
readied to rear these *******...
                                     but since you're not...
i don't know why i need to know what
                      cubicle *** is like...
                                     i don't see the point...
          my narrative is complimentary
   to what most people shouldn't say
                          but feel obliged to do...
but since they talk about it... i'm writing an answer
to what they're supposedly not supposed to do...
         otherwise, why talk about it?
my ex-girlfriend's favourite motto? good for you!,
well, it's exactly the same...
            why do it, then speak of it,
why not just do it and keep it shut?
                               unless you're looking
for a confession booth and a priest...
i wouldn't be looking for a madman
                and jealousy... to be honest:
what could become: 20 hail Mary's penance,
could easily become 20 stab wounds to the throat;
                              just saying.

Did you think a kiss
would buy my everlasting affection
that you only needed to caress my skin
and I was yours for life?

A woman needs a man with soul
one who knows how to empathise
who can hear her speak
and leaves her feeling whole

Hands and lips
have a lot of lies to answer for

Lines of life through gene transmission
When handed down through *****,
Tho’ rugged, sound or sickly matched,
Are caste about like coins.
Luck ensures a robust chance
Of longevity and health
With intelligence or dolt hood
As a final gauge to wealth.

Traits of blue eyed, fair haired lovelies
Brown eyed, freckled, long of limb,
Temperaments across the spectrum
Placid fat to fiery slim.
Aptitude to run the long race
Good endurance, depth of heart,
Lady luck decrees their worth
Tho' the Priesthood may depart.

Frontal lobes of clear retention
Heightened rationale of thought,
Reasons through the problematic,
Resolutions made as ought.
Capacity to empathise
In tears of joy and sorrow spent,
Capacity for true belief
When wrong is righted with repent.

Goodness and black evil
Are caste about like chaff,
Depends upon the show of cards
Who laughs the final laugh.
Conscience can be virtuous
But then, so can be greed,
Depends upon the circumstance
And if approached at speed.

And finally indulgence
Plays a massive hand in this,
For love and lust determine
If a union is remiss.
And should that union founder,
Should Lady Luck throw in her hand
...You can blame it on the chromosomes
Which confounds the Makers stand!


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
14 June 2011

I am so sick of having to go to mass to please my family who will not accept me otherwise.

I am so sick of having to walk down the street covering myself because men can't de-sexualise normal human body parts.

I am so sick of the arguments of sexism, racism and overall discrimination.

-if someone accepts you, great.
-if they don't, grow a thicker skin and rise above.

I am so sick of being afraid of things like trying new food and roller coasters that make me feel as though I'm missing out.

I am so sick of being so extremely misanthropic that when someone says they can relate to my sadness I get angry that another human believes they can empathise with me.

I am so sick of being told what to do with my life.

I am so sick of not knowing what to do with my life.

I am so sick of acting like I know what to do with my life.

I am so sick of my life.

I am so sick of myself.

I am so sick of looking at my features and scrutinising them.

I am so sick of being alive.

I am so sick.

can you tell me how you feel because I don't know can you tell me how to empathise because in me it doesn't show I am trying to bridge a gap that seems to never be filled people say your agsagerating and if you want to change it's in your will but I can't change the way god put me together the storms never go away it's just ment to be wethered I am trying to be adaptable to  societies demands but I am only one man autism is stitched together like a quilt there are many shapes and sizes and can't seemed to be mended and are anger turns to guilt we are few and some of us cry out to be understood and some of us can't but wish we could theres no answers to the mystery of the disease  all I ask is that you listen so you can see

Feet, bare and blistered, skin- tanned and tortured.
age- sparse but spent,
On the road to misery.

Is it so hard to care?
Share a sip of our drink, can't we?
Will relieve that soul that ran dry.
And humans for goodness sake, we claim to be!


Feelings- heard and unheard, heart- broken and trampled,
trust- built and collapsed,
Leading to death - now literal.

Is it so tough to not remain oblivious?
To not know how it feels,
Not like the Sun never turned away from us,
But only a human could empathise, and only humans could heal.



Senses- worn and withering, gait- slow and painful
Life- lost but left
Fading to a lifetime of memories.

They were family since you could speak, and walk,
and eat and grow up to be,
on your own and  up till you could mock at them now,  
Won't you be family, when it's your turn at it?

I thought you cared for me
Because, your words had always conveyed that to me
I was supposed to be your best friend
However, our relationship, you decided to end
You said you were my sister
But you left me feeling rather bitter
Because you cared only about yourself
And left me hating myself
For something as minor as a Facebook comment
Never did you have any good intent!

I thought you cared for me
But it was never "we"
It was all "you"
Our friendship had no value
Because you were obsessed about yourself
You and your anaconda sized ego
Which you could never let go
You and your precious Mumbai Indians
Were the only **** sapiens
Who truly mattered to you
Apart from your "bestest friend"
You, would he blindly defend
As though you were a Nobel Prize winner
While you were actually a sore loser
With an extremely domineering personality
Masked by a deceptively sweet tongue

I thought you cared for me
But you never let me be
Because, all that mattered, was your precious image
Often, would you take umbrage
Over relatively insignificant matters
Such as me not marking you present
When you were LITERALLY absent
No wonder, did you have your haters
Because, YOU came before everyone else
Never did you take a pause
And empathise with anyone
In fact, YOU were everyone!!

I thought you cared for me
But you never truly cared for anyone
You thought you were a special someone
Who deserved all the attention in the world
On the other hand, often did you fold
At the slightest hint of pressure
Though you were so sure
That you were always right
Oh boy, never were you a pretty sight!!

I thought you cared for me
But you never took the trouble to understand me
You called me your best friend
But I was nothing more than a means to an end
Because you were a narcissist
And as a friend, one of the worst
Seriously, accepting your offer of friendship
Was nothing short of a mishap!!
Anyway, you will get what's coming to you
Your friends will eventually leave you
And then it will be just YOU
Left to fend for yourself
As you deserve to be
Because you are so obsessed with yourself
However, the world is for all
It's time you learned that
Once and for all!!

Am I really self-centered?
Well, certainly am I not selfish
Always, do I help people in need
And you definitely cannot accuse me of greed
For my family, cousins and friends
My love and care has no end!

Am I really self-centred?
Not boasting, but am I kind
And loyal to a fault
Certainly, am I a compassionate adult
And do my best to empathise with people
As far as possible
Including even those who don't deserve it
Because, I know what it is like
To be ignored or laughed at
Hence, are there certain jokes
For which I do my best
To keep a poker face
Since, I do not appreciate insensitivity
After all, known am I, for my sensitivity!!

Am I really self-centred?
Yes, there are certain times
When I do tend to be self-obsessed
However, not too often do they come
In fact, often has my heart bled
Even when it was not required!!

Am I really self-centred?
Well, many a mistake have I made
However, always do I apologise
And give people space
I don't repeat my mistakes either
Because, truly do I care
For the wellbeing of others!!

Am I really self-centred?
Many a time, have I cried
Even for relatively small things
Doesn't that tell you something?
The fact that I care a lot
About other people's opinions
Should ideally show, that I am self-centred, NOT
In my life, have I learned a lot of lessons
And, over a period of time, changed for the better
Hope this at least provides the answer
To the question I have been repeatedly asking
Genuinely sorry am I, for all the time wasting
However, I am sure you would have understood by now
As to why and how
This issue means so much to me!!

I am afraid
I am alone
I am unknown
I am labelled

Labelled 'Damaged'
Did I damage myself?
No, fate did that
Can I atone?

Atone? For what?
A disease that differs for one and all.
I know what I am, but choose not to
take the moniker, 'sufferer'.

Yes, I hurt, I tire, I cry, but
I cannot explain, and you,
you cannot empathise, you
don't have MS, the broken smile.

I look whole, but I'm a jigsaw
with a missing piece. That piece is
peace. Peace of mind, peace for my
loved ones, peace for me.

I know I'm a person, I know I have MS
I know I'm loved, I know I'm a *****
I know I'm part of a family, daughter, sister,
aunt, niece, cousin and most importantly Wife.

I will be whatever the fates decide.
I will not be a sufferer.
I will not give up.
I will be loved.

Her silence
Pierces tge ear drums
And makes introspective
equal easy
To predict her levee overflow
Is an art form
That many mouths water for
One must possess her
Body and soul
To truly empathise
With her
Tsunami