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Big Virge Aug 2014
(Pt. II)

After the 7/7 bombing ...
This is part of a Trilogy of poems to remind people about
where some of their, " Anti-Islam Rhetoric ", started from ....

Well ...

... HERE WE GO ... !!!!!
  
It Didn't Take Long ... !!!
For ... " Political Players " ...  
To Sing ... " Dud Songs " ... !!!  
    
London's Been BOMBED ... !!!!!  
  
"It was the Muslims, all along !"  
    
Excuse Me Mr. Clarke ...  
I Think You May Be Wrong ... ?!?  
    
The ... HOME SECRETARY ...  
Is Jumping On The Ferry ...  
That's Saying To MUSLIMS ...    
    
They'd ...  
Better Be WARY ... !!!!!!!!  
    
But Let's Get Things CLEAR ... !!!  
    
They've ALWAYS FEARED ...  
Men With A Dark Appearance ...
And A ... LENGTHY Beard ... !!!    
    
But Many Now ...    
Are ... " BRITISH " ... !!!  
    
Adopting ... Muslim Ways ...  
Who Live Their Life ... " In HOPE " ...  
of Seeing ... PEACEFUL Days ...    
    
Their Wish Is For Some Guidance ...    
WITHOUT Old English Tricks ... !!!  
    
That's Why Some Show DEFIANCE ... !!!  
    
This Country NEEDS A FIX ... !!!!!  
    
A Fix of ... " TRUTH " ... !!!  
A Fix of ... " PROOF " ... !!!  
    
A Fix of Things ....  
That AREN'T See Through ...  
    
Am I Getting Through To You ... ?!?  
    
I'm NO MUSLIM ...  
I'm NO JEW ...    
I'm Just ME ... !!!  
    
But What Are YOU ... ?!?  
    
What Do You Believe Is True ... !?!  
    
Don't You Think ... ?  
We NEED MORE Clues ... ?!?  
    
I Think We ........  
Should Be ... MORE Shrewd ... !!!    
    
Instead of ... Jumping Into Shoes ...    
That DON'T FIT RIGHT ... !!!  
    
So What's Your View ... ???  
    
CAREFUL NOW ... !!!  
You'd Best Be Cool ...  
Cos' Views You Share ...  
Could ... DAMAGE YOU ... !?!  
    
We're Being Told .....  
  
" WATCH WHAT YOU SAY ! "  
    
Cos' Leaders Now WON'T Tolerate ... !!!  
Those of Us Who Want To Relate ...  
    
A DIFFERENT View ...  
To ... Political Crews ...    
    
This is WHY ...  
They CONTROL News ... !!!  
    
To Keep The FOOLS FALSELY Schooled ...
In PROPAGANDA, NOT The TRUTH ... !!!!!  
    
So Check This Flow ...  
    
" Do not pass go !  
cos' Old Kent Road,  
ain't there no more ! "  
    
Laugh If YOU CAN ...  
It's ... NOT A JOKE ...  
When Friends of Yours ...  
Die From ... BOMB Smoke ... !!!    
    
A Friend Told Me ...
  
"Shrapnel does make victims bleed,  
but what kills you, is all the heat !"  
    
Stuck In A Tunnel ...  
Frying Like .... MEAT .... !!!  
    
Do My Depictions ...  
Make You ... " Weep " ... ?  
    
Or Give You Heartburn ... ?  
Like ... Meryl Streep ... !!!  
    
Or ... Do You Believe ... ?  
These Political CREEPS ... !!!  
    
Who .....  
Continually Preach ...  
While Others ... " Sleep " ...    
    
NOT For The Night ...  
But .... " ETERNITY " .... !!!!!  
    
MP's Are Free To Walk FREELY ... !!!  
    
But I Fear For Peace ...  
On .... English Streets ....  
    
When War Is Waged ...  
On .... " Communities " ....    
And Freedom of Speech ...  
Becomes ... OBSOLETE ... !!!      
    
Then Men Like Me ....    
Become Government Foes ...  
Because of WORDS ...  
We Put In Prose ... ?!?!?    
    
What Would You Choose ... ?  
Coc' Up Your Nose ...  
Or Political Coups ...    
And ... " Reality Shows " ...    
    
How About ... ?
... " Poets EXPOSED ?!? " ...  
    
Would I Get Your Vote ...  
To Be Your Host ... ?  
    
I ... Reckon So ...    
And That's NO BOAST ... !!!  
    
But Let's NOT GET ...  
Caught Up In Jokes ...    
    
Cos' Government Quotes ...  
May Just .... " Provoke " ....  
    
A VIOLENT END ... !!!      
Where Muslims Choke ... !!!!!  
    
NOT JUST THEM ... !!!  
    
That's The ... PROBLEM ... !!!  
When Bombs Are Left ...  
Around ... " London " ... !!!  
    
This Piece Has Got ....  
Some ... DIFFERENT Flows ... !!!  
    
Cos' Like A Bomb ...  
I'm ... READY TO BLOW ... !!!!!  
    
Things Are Now Out of CONTROL ...    
    
So ... Watch Out Folks ...  
    
Cos' ......  
    
.... " Here We Go " .... !!!
On the basis of the rise, not just in the UK, but, in other parts of Europe currently, of groups like Britain First & The EDL ....
Robert Ronnow Nov 2017
What luxury to get mad
about last night's basketball loss
and watch the full moon descending
at the speed the earth turns.

Things could get worse
personally and for the community.
Bombings, killings, anomie
boiling frogs and witches cursing.

The changing climate,
typhoons in the Philippines,
volcanoes and tsunamis, WWII which I missed,
Thanksgiving nor'easter, Easter twister.

What abundance to fast or feast,
your choice, stay inside by the stove
or go outside, climb the mountainside.
Live in a city or small town.

So I raged at the coaches
for their lazy zone defense
like an alien in the bleachers
unable to affect the outcome.

When my sons came home
I yelled at them too. What opulence
to be angry about nothing of consequence
neither stopped by the cops nor slipped on the ice.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Ylzm Apr 2019
Satan Rejoices:
On Day when Life Resurrects,
Lives sacrificed to despise Life,
that Death begets Death
and Death is stronger than Life.

Satan Rejoices:
For Lies are believed and Died for,
that the Desecration of Life's Sanctity
and Usurpation of God's Authority
are rewarded and glorifies God.

Satan Rejoices:
Brother turns against Brother,
Cain reigned supreme,
Circle of Revenge and Hatred turns,
Evil and Sword worshiped.

But Abel's blood still speaks
Blood-soaked Earth's cries are heard
Victory is assured but unseen
Patience is mercy not weakness
Evil shall judge Evil
Sri Lanka Terror Attacks, on Easter 2019
Jonathan Moya Sep 2019
Our marriage is old enough to vote now
and on this our porcelain anniversary
I vote “Yes, I do,”  over and over again.

A score of fine filigree plates I will gift us,
two broken to match the fragile times,
the eighteen days past the towers fall
when we married amidst grief and joy.

Our Noritake sacraments survives the bombings
of a blasted world, the cracking, fractures,
the buffing of our mistakes to a translucent
perfection, all frozen details rimmed with gold.

Cancer is etched on the lip, but so
is cure, joy, longevity, beauty, respect,
and the watermark underneath, our keepsake
forever, irreplaceable love.
Kristen is my second wife. We got married  eighteen days after 9-11, when the twin towers of the World Trade Center fell in a terrorist attack on September 11,  2001. Thus if you do the math of the second stanza you get one score. (20) minus two = 18. Eighteen days past 9/11 makes the date September 29, 2001.

  It is also our eighteenth anniversary.  The irony of that number in our lives today was too good to leave out of the  Poem.  

The typical gift for an 18th wedding anniversary is porcelain.  Thus China and Noritake reference.  

For those aware of history the Noritake factory was bombed and destroyed by Allied planes in WOrld War Two.  Only the China it produced survived the bombing. © 9 hours ago,
Cassia  Jan 2019
There's a War
Cassia Jan 2019
There's a war going on
I hear echoes of screams
Of gunshots, of bombings
Of knives and retreat

I don't have a flag
Or someone to trust
Nothing to pledge
But march forward I must

I don't fight for them
I can't fight for you
I just sit in the middle
Bring others down too

I cover my ears
To block out the yells
The crying, the screeches
The pleading for help

I'm bleeding out fast
I'm falling asleep
Barbed wire, sharp words
Just memories to keep

Feel the shots whistling by
And still I don't fight
There's a war going on
And it's all in my mind.
i love women, don't get me wrong, i finally succumbed
to watching the female world cup,
since the lionesses reached the semi-finals
against u.s.a., but the man in me just kept thinking:
yeah yeah, great footie, but those beauties...
where's martin keown, i need to look at
a mugshot of a brute, i can't concentrate
on the skill without a girl that looks like
martin keown... oh god... alex morgan...
              julie ertz... steph houghton...
   don't get me started on the swedish team...
    wimbledon has also started...
                    i do enjoy female tennis more than
the male variation of serve-**** tactic...
or the terminator that's serena williams...
     cori "coco" gauff... wow...
                i wish she would win the championship
and replicate martina hingis wimblendon 1996...
problem... she's under 16...
so she's only allowed to play 5 matches
in the tournament... and what if she wins
the 5th? that's the quarter-finals...
7 to win the tournament... the rules should be bent,
she should be able to continue...
end of an era... the dinosaurs are being chased
by the younglings...
prof. green (roger federer) still has it in him...
but... well he is a professor of tennis...
his style? his backhand? immaculate "conception"...
who played as well as he does?
roger sampras... the list is very short...
but i don't have a problem watching woman's
tennis, it's so much better than the brute strength
of the serve akin to the game played
by: ivanišević, rusedski, roddick, čilić (chy-lea-'c -
piquant, that acute c)...
   n'ah... in terms of tennis?
i think the males are over-rated,
                except for the prof. of grass court...
i do love women... apart from the nostalgia
for primary school playground banter with
the girls: when we still had an asexual
sense of it... before all the **** jokes,
before the greatest schism in ether of existence:
beyond the religious and in the biological realm...
o.k.: i tease... which is something a prepubescent
girl would understand:
   if i was also a prepubescent boy...
times, have, changed...
i'm with ms. amber and ginger ale,
cigarettes and a decent soundtrack...
               i still don't want to understand incels...
i listen to them, but then i reach a limit...
thank god i didn't lose my virginity to a *******...
but... if you have to?
         isabella of grenoble...
               a fine fine catch...
          mind you... have you ever been
to an 18 year old's birthday party,
   and it was not what you were used to,
i.e.: bal samców / cockfest?
   this 18 year old's birthday party?
  my friend ian tagged along for about an hour
or two... then he suddenly bailed on me...
i was the only male... among... um....
20 or so girls...
              why, the, ****, are, muslims,
blowing themselves, up,
for a reward of 72, virgins?! eh?! can anyone
please please tell me?!

no brainer question(s)
   (as dictated by h'american girls in venise):
the beatles or the rolling stones -
to be honest? neither.

   top three songs with the bass guitar
setting the rhytm:
   1. tool - forty six & two
  2. the offspring - bad habit
3. róże europy - kości czerwone, kości czarne...

roy orbison or elvis? m'hahaha... royo...

  a lot has happened since i attended that
18 year old's birthday party...
why are muslim men so eager to entertain
eternity with 72 virgins?
      will they be keeping them virgins
or what? that would be the best way
to not move past kissing and oral ***...
once 3rd base is entered: the third eye
of transgender shiva opens up...
    
              why did solomon give up his harem
for the monotheistic monogamy associated
with the queen of Sheba?
   beyond one, what good is a harem?
if you've never been around 25 or so virgins...
you really don't know what you're talking...
or getting yourself into...
                    herrdildomaschinekopf...
look, i just changed the background to show
you i'm not lying:
  that evening i came home: ex-haus-ted...
did i spend the past few hours in
the company of teenage girls or was i being
ripped apart by a pack of wolves / hyennas...
and you know how drunk teenage girls
behave... you're shreds... they're competing
like it's both the 100m sprint and the marathon
cooked up into one!

i really could have chosen a different path:
***** ***** all year round...
   well, why didn't i, why did i become
voluntarily "celibate"?
            as much as might want the company
of the opposite ***: picking up a thai surprise
bisexual in the park one day...
******* her in the garden...
   walking her home while she drowned
in my jacket... she telling me i should stop
drinking... now... drinking...
i was taught to listen to rules under the arch
of pedagogy... now? i'll be as stubborn as
i am expected to be...
i don't like being told what to do,
thank you for telling me to do for the first
21 years of my life...
  now? welcome to the plateau!
even the best advice is the worst advice
after a certain period of time...
do i look like a ******* puppett that will
listen to such things: oh, but if you don't
do x, you'll become homeless...
   i've met some happy homeless people...
one even told me why he became homeless:
'my mother told me to never lie'...

i don't even think these jihadis know what
they're getting into,
wishing up 72 celestial virgins...
i'll take to the count of "72" valkyrie serving
me drinks than expecting me to **** them,
and the eternal library of text and music...
don't get me wrong...
receiving attention from women:
esp. those younger than you,
while they're intoxicated: it is fun...
but when it comes to the sort of
intimacy of a relationship with a women,
when she starts to read you the cosmopolitan
magazine's questionnaire as to whether
she's the perfect girlfriend /
you're the perfect boyfriend /
   you're a perfect couple?
i love women outside the realm of a molten
heart... i don't like finding myself
vulnerable...

              am i missing out on something?
oh i know i am...
but it's like owning a car:
great! you own a car!
             "mobility"...
  but you also own car insurance...
the m.o.t. payments and spare parts...
and washing the car on the weekend...
oh i'm so jealous!

  what's that famous saying?
women... can't live with them,
  can't live without them...
       well... more like: can live without them,
but much harder to live without them
and stop wanting them...
whatever glimpses i've had of past
relationships: i sober up even if i'm drunk...
she didn't want to split the restaurant bill...
this "modern thing": feminism,
my "toxic masculinity"...
  whatever, whatever...
                   i guess i'll have to end
on a note superstitious of a teenage girl's whim...
i'm bored, the end.

_______

.now i have a fox, without a leash, that i tend to feed everyday... keep feeding him, or her, lamb fat, cat food synthetics, and once in a while a frankfurter... and the Polacks you minded so much? only attacked ****** night0club owners... made plums and figs out of their faces... bulging and caress worthy... same ****, different cover, with the easy girls of Liverpool and Newcastle... back down in London? the story goes: she's an exchange student from New Hampshire... riddled by the madonna-***** complex... and i'm not really adamant adamant on stealing the cherry... if you've ever ****** aa ******? one, is enough...  i'd sooner become ****** up by a ******* tornado... and giggle... dying with a half breath... before plummeting face down onto the hearth; watching daisies, growing, roots up!

i've had one irish migrant educate me:
you know...
there are plenty of neo-nazis
in Poland...  
       and? am i one of them?
   liked him, a high school friend...
i'm sorry the friendship ended...
so i am?
   **** me... better i brush up on
reading some Heidegger!
         oh look 'ere i go...
        can't stop me now...
unless befriending Pakistanis
who have kept a null of Urdu...
              because you know...
   if there's a culture that's integrating,
and doesn't,
   have the honor, capacity,
to keep in line its origins?
no problem...  not worth it...
           people who do not retain their
skeleton -
their basics -
  their language -
   they, "magically" lose it...
half-castes... half-people...
   no pride in an origin,
   not upkeep with a language?
might as well call your mother a,
*******, *****!
      ****** by an antiques dealer!
******.
      no pride in origin,
  no subsequent pride in a "return"
on foreign soil...
   plethora of antagonizing Islam...
good look...
    i have mine,
but i hide it...
      ex-girlfriend -
almost took a ride on one of those
buses in the 7/7 bombings...
     what?!
               guess what...
i'm an ex-pat...
  i know that you wouldn't call
your similar genetics of
a "family" an ex-pat
and neither a migrant or an immigrant...
   (economics comes later,
doesn't it?) -
  but i'm sure the english
are loved up with Hindu grannies
and their grandchildren
taking them to the doctors to
translate symptoms...
   fine by me... you do the math...
   apparently i'm not speaking
English, but? ******* Urdu!
         no problem...
thank god i never allowed myself
a pledge of allegiance to the people,
rather, the language they spoke...
the language is all i pledge my
allegiance to... and for...
the queen... and her people?
        **** it... shooting albatrosses
off the shoreline of Cornwall...
attempting to spot
  porky Siamese twins...
        one does the eating,
the other does the oral ***...
             what?!
             i have not pledged any allegiance
to the english people...
  they love their **** curry
and their Afghan foot-soldiers...
   i'm doing the Pontius Pilate
washing of hands...
   which is a secondary theater of
a baptism...
                      no...
no allegiance to the people....
but the language?
   i'd give my life for it...
           the people are not exactly
the main ingredient in terms
of existential coordinates -
but the language is...
    on a per se basis mingling with
the appropriate focus.
Megan Jones Sep 2019
"A child may not be
considered a piece of property-
only the child possesses genuine rights
the Right to be respected as a person
from the moment of his conception"
He was born in the year 1964
A world on the brink of splitting open,
On the edge of revolution, progress, protest

The stained glass windows speckled from the rain
Incense and old wood covered in fingernail imprints
Matching those on the sides of his arms
A small choir singing hymns of Salvation and Praise
His mother nudges him "stand up straight, eyes forward"
A mind wandering from the homily on Sacrifice
To the images of bombings in Hamburg

Adorned with black and white collars
Gripping an unlabeled wine bottle
The children sprinted through the wooded trails
Mud spattering across their legs and dress shoes
The others spun in circles, as if trapped in jewelry boxes
Their ankles dressed in pink ribbons
This was no place for innocence and imagination
But one of penance and prayer

He kept his toy cars and trains in a green metal box under his bed
It wasn't much, but they were his
Through them locking him in the closet for hours
And being told to not speak unless spoken to
The times of self expression, of emotion, feeling
Shamed and forced suppression - turned to repression
These cars and trains, they were his

Mental illness is a myth
Suicide is a mortal sin
We decide who you are
You cannot feel
Kneel down
Be quiet
Say your prayers
I'm writing a series about control. The ways in which people manipulate time, memories, feelings etc. as a means of determining and predicting what free-thinking individuals do/feel/say... All, supposedly, in the name of love or as a means to preemptively protect themselves from being subjected to the uncontrollable.
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