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Michael W Noland Sep 2012
[A] is for
An
Archer with
An
Arrow through his
Adams
Apple, very
Applicable, to the
Ample
Amounts of
Amiable
Attitude,
Adorning his heart, in
After
Action
Attributes, that impart, the
Admiration, of
*******, in this
Acting out of
Arrogance bit. he is,
Astute, in his
Allure, and
Aloof, in the
Air, of
Aspiration, in which, he was
Alienated in the
Agony, of
Asking
Assassins, the
Aforementioned. lights, camera,
Action. recipe of the
Ancient
Admirals of
Avian
Aliens, that
Attacked, with the
Arms and fists, of
Arachnids, now
Aching to be
Activated in sudden
Allegiance to the
Answers, of the truth.
Accumulating wealth for
Anarchy's of
Abating
Angels in
Atrophied,
Alchemical
Academies of the ever
After life .. . of silence.
****** strengthens in these
Accolades of violence, in
Alliance to
Appliances
Appearing in the
Arson of
Apathy, happily, to
Anguish in the
Amputation of my
Abdomen, if it meant i'm a real
American, even, when, only
Ash, remains.
Acclimating in its remains
Attained, the
Articles of my pain, in
Affluent shame, next time ..
Aim... oak
[A]?

[B] is for the
Bah of
Black sheep, and
Big
Bit¢hes, fat cats,
Bombarded in the
Blasted,
Bastion of
Blackened
Benevolent
Blokes,
Berating the
Blasphemous,
Be-seech, of
Brains, to feel
Bad, about the
Blotching of
Binary codes, erroding, the
Blanked out
Books, of
Belittled
Bureaucrats,
Bowling
Back the
Bank rolls of
Betterment, from the
Back of the
Blackened
Bus, as i'm
Busting guts, in the
Bubbling
Butts, of *****
Benched, but
Beautiful, in the
Battle, in the
Bane, of existence.
Baffled, in the strain of
Belligerence, in
Beating the
Beaming
Butchery into
Billy's
Broken
Brains, in
Bouts, of
Battering
Bobby's for
Bags of
*******
Before, affording to
Build
Bombs, is just
Beyond
Breaking
Beer
Bottles on the
*******
Benefactors of
Boulder
Bashing with the
Beaks, of
Birds, with no
Bees. just a
Being, trying to
[B]


[C] is for the
*****
Courting the
Choreography, in
Computerized
Curtains,
Circumventing the
Cultured,
Contrivance of
Chromatic
Cellars,
Calibrating, to the
Contours of
Calamities,
Celebrating the
Cyclical,
Cylinders of
Cyphered
Calenders,
Correcting the
Calculations, of
Crooks
Coughing, in
Courageous
Coffins of
Canadians,
Collecting
Cobble stones, from
Catacombs, in the lands of the
Conquered,
Capturing the
Claps of thieves, sneaky
Cats, of greed. its
Comedy. oh
Comely, to my
Cling of
Cleanliness, and for your self
[C]

[D] is for the
Dip *****, as they
Delve
Deeper in the
Deliverance, of
Deviant
Deities,
Dying to
Demand
Dinner
Delivered in the throws of
Death,
Deceiving
Defiance of
Darkened
Dreams,
Demeaning that which
Deems the
Dormant of the
Dominant, to be
Demons of
Deviled
Devilry,
Dooming us for
Destruction.
Deploy the,
Damsels in
Duress.
Defiled and
Distressed,
Detestable and
Dead. in the thump of
Drums,
Dumbing down the
Debts of,
Dire regrets.
Dissect the
Daisies of,
Disillusion, in the current
Days,
Diluting night into
Dawn,
Disconnecting the
Dots of the
Dichotomy, and arming me, in the
Diabolatry, of,
Demonology, as i watch me
Dwindle away, the
[D]

[E] is for
Everything in nothing,
Eating the
Euphoric
Enigmas of
Enlightened
Elitists,
Exceeding in the
Extravagant
Essence of
Esoteric
Euphemisms,
Escaping the
Elegance of the
Elements in the
Eccentricity of
Eclectic
Ecstasy,
Exhaling, the
Exostential blessings, of inner
Entities, and renouncing the
Enemies of my
Ease,
Easily to appease
Extraterestrial
Empires,
Extracting the lost
Embers of
Enlightenment, in
Excited delight, but to later
Entice, the fight, and
Escape, like a thief into the night of
Everywhere,
Entering the
Exits of
Elevators leading no where, to
Elevate, this useless place,
Encased in malware in the
Errant
Errors of
Every man,
Enslaved, of flesh and
Entrails,
Enveloping the core of
Everything, that matters,
Enduring, the chatter, of
Evermore,
Ever present in
Everybody
Ever made to take
[E]

Funk the
Ferocity of
Foolish
Fandangos, with
Fanged
Fanatics,
Fooled in the
Fiasco of
Fumbled
Fantasies,
Falling through the
Farms of
Freely
Found
Fans,
Flying in the
Fame of
Fortune.
Fornicating on the
Fallen
Fears of
Fat
Fish getting their
Fillet of
Fills.
Feel me in the
Frills

Granted with
Generosity.
Giblets of
Gratitude and
Greed,
Greeting the
Goop and
Gobbled
Gore,
Gleaned from the
Glamour of
Ghouls in
Gillie suits,
Getting what they
Got
Going, in the
Gratuitous
Gallows of a
Game
Gaffed by
Giants.

Hello to the
Horizon of
Hellish
Hilarity, in
Hope of
Happy, to
Heave from
Heifers, to
Help the
Hemp
Harshened
Hobos in
Heightened
Horror, to
Honor the
Habitats of
Hapless
Habituals,
Herbalising the work
Horse, named
Have Not, in the
Haughtily
Hardened
Houses of
Happenstance.

Ignore the
Ignorant
Idiots, too
Illiterate to
Indicate the
Indicative
Instances of
Idiom in the
Irrelevant
Inaccuracy of
I,
In the
Intellect of
Idle
Individuals,
Irritated with the
Irate
Illusion of
Idols
Illustrated upon the
Iris,
In the
Illumination of
I.

******* the
Jobless
Jokers, and
Jimmy the
Jerkins from their
Jammie's, in
Justified,
Jousting off the
Jumps, in
Jokes, and
Jukes of
Just
Jailers,
Jesting for
Jammed
Jury's to
****
Judgment from the
Jitter
Juiced
Jeans of
Jesus.

**** the
Keep of
Khaki-ed
Kool aid men,
Kept in the
Kilometers of
Kits,
Kin-less
Kinetics,
Knifing the
Knights of
Kneeling
Kinsmanship,
Keeling over the
Keys of
Kaine, with the
Karmic
Karate
Kick of a
Kangaroo.

Love the
Levity, in the
Luxurious
Laments of
Loveliness,
Lovingly
Levitating in
Level,
Lucidly.
Living in
Laps, of
Lapses,
Looping, but
Lacking the
Loom of the
Latches
Locked with
Leeches of the
Lonely
Lit
Leering of
Lightly
Limbs, that
Lash at the
Lessers in
Loot of
Lost letters,
Lest we
Learned in the
Lessons of
Liars.

Marooned in
Maniacal
Masterpieces,
Masqueraded as
Malignant
Memorization's of
Motionless
Mantras, but
Merrily
Masking
Mikha'el the
Mundane, who is
Musically
Mused of
Monsters,
Mangling the
Monitor, but
Maybe just a
Moniker of
Marauders.

Never to
Navigate the
Nautical
Nether of
Never
Nears.
Not to
Nit pic the
Naivety of
Nicety.
Notions
Neither take
Note
Nor
Name the
Noise of
Nats in the
Nights of
Neanderthals
Napping in the
Nets of
Ninjas

Ominous in the
Obvious
Omnipotence of
Oblivious
Obligatory
Opulence,
Of
Other
Oddly
Orchards
Of
Offices,
Ordaining
Orifices in
Offers of
Ordinary
Ordinances in
Option-less
Optics,
Optionally an
On-call Oracle, in
Optimal,
Overture.

Perusing the
Pestilent
Pedestals of
Personal,
Parameters,
Pursuing the
Petty
Plumes of
Piety with the
Patience of a
Pharaoh,
******* on the
People with the
Penal
Pianos of
Port-less
Portals, in the
Paperless
Points in the
Palpal
Pats of
Pettiness.
Poor, but
Prideful.

Quick to
Qualify the
Quitter for a
Quick
Quill in
Queer
Quivering of
Quickened
Questioning,
Queried in the
Quakiest of
Quandaries.
Quarantined to a
Quadrant, of
Quagmires.
Questing the
Quizzing of
Quotable
Quartets.

Relax in the
Relapse of
Realizations, and
React with
Racks of
Rolling
Rock to
Rate the
Rep of the
Rain-less.
Roar in
Rapturous
Rendering of the
Random
Readiness in the
Ravenous,
Rallying, of the
Retinal
Refracting of
Reality.
Realigning, the
Righteous
Rearing of the
Realm, and
Retrying.

Steer the
Serenity in
Sustainability, and
Slither through the
Seams of
Slumbered
Scenes.
Secrete the
Solo
Sobriety of
Sapped
Sassys,
Salivating upon a
Slew of
Stupidity,
Steadily
Supplied in
Stream,
Suitably
Slain in the
Steam of
Sanity.
Sadly, i
Still
Seem,
Salvagable.

Topple
The
Titans in
Tightened
Terror.
Torn
Territories
Turn
Turbulent in
The
Teething of
Totality.
The
Telemetry of
Time,
Tortured of
Torrent
Theories,
Told in
Turrets of
Transpiring
Terribleness, from
Tumultuous
Tikes unto
Teens,
Trading
Toys for
Tea.
Thrice
Thrusted upon by the
Tyranny of
Tanks.

Unanimous is the
Ugliness in the
Undertones of
Undreamed
Ulteriors
Undergoing the
Unclean in the
***** of
Utterly
Upset
Users,
Uplifting the
Unfitting
Ushers in
Underwear-less,
Ulcers,
Undergoing the
Ultra of
Uberness.

Venial in
Vindictive
Viciousness of
Vindicated
Venom,
Venomously
Vilifying the
Vials of
Villainy in the
Veins of
Vampires,
Validity of
Valuable
Violence, is
Valiant in the
Vaporous
Vacationing of
Vagrant
Vices.

Why
Whelp in the
Weather
When you can
Wave to the
Whirling
Wisps,
Whipping Where the
Whimsical Were
Way back in the
Wellness of
Whip its,
Wrangling my
World,
With
Waterless
Worms, as
War shouts are
Wasted in the
Wackiest
Walks of
Waking
Wonder.

Xenophobic
Xenogogue, of
Xenomorphic
Xeons, turn
Xyphoid, in the
Xenomenia of my
X, my
Xenolalia of
X, to
***. im lost in the
Xenobiotic zen of
Xerces, on a
Xebec to the
X on the map.
Xenogenesis, in the
Xesturgy of my
Xyston
Xd

Yelling
Yearned from
Yelping.
Yard
Yachts
Yielding, to the
Yodel of
Yeah
Yeahs, to the
Yapping of
******
Yuppie
Yoga
Yanks, over
Yonder.
Yucking it up with the
Yawn of a
Yocal.

Zapped from a
Zone i
Zoomed with
Zeal in the
Zig and
Zag of my
Zapping
Zimming
Zest, upon a
Zombie-less
Zeplin.
Zealot,
Zionist, or
Zoologists,
Zeros or ones, just
Zip your
Zip locked. and
Zzzzz
Zzzz
Zzz
Zz
Z
Zero
this is a work in progress
Matloob Bokhari Oct 2014
THE LIGHT OF LIBERTY
Matloob Bokhari


Peace be upon you, O daughter of the Chief of prophets.
Peace be upon you, O daughter of God's friend.
Peace be upon you, O daughter of the lady of Jannah.
Peace be upon you, who inherited bravery, fluency from Ali.
Peace be upon you, who became a symbol of liberty.
Peace be upon you, who is the lady of knowledge, patience.
Peace be upon you, who practiced what she taught.
Peace be upon you, who spoke against despotic institutions.
Peace be upon you, who challenged miseries with a message.
Peace be upon you, who remained entangled in tribulations.
Peace be upon you, who was paraded from place to place.
Peace be upon you, who  completed  mission when  all were dead.
Peace be upon you, who un-masked Godless regime.
Peace be upon you, who sowed seeds of awareness.
Peace be upon you, who delivered sermons on freedom.
Peace be upon you, who rescued the spirit of Islam.
Peace be upon you, who criticized terror in courts.
Peace be upon you, who prayed;" Lord! Accept sacrifice."
Peace be upon you, who in the  sad night remained in   prayers.
Peace be upon you, whose speeches silenced crafty intriguers.
Peace be upon you, whose name will remain eternal in history
Peace be upon you, whose lifestyle inspires   generations.
Peace be upon you, who said "God's curse on tyrants"
Peace be upon you, who forced tyranny to take refuge.
Peace be upon you, who said, "Our memory will never die."
Peace be upon you, who won battle of human rights.
Peace be upon you, who is a sun in history of humanity.

Michele Vizzotti-White: Hazrat Zainab challenged miseries with a message, if only more people had this gift eh there is always tomorrow :She  is a sun in history of humanity, yea def.
God bless the smart, beautiful and brave spirits in the world. ( na na three cheers to Hazrat Zainab :)




Kevin M. Hibshman : You are a light, Matloob!

Isabelle Black Smith: I have read parts of Quran. I need to read more. The Quran is indeed a holy text, filled with much wisdom. Thank you for telling about Hazrat Zainab . It is most interesting. I love the study of
history. The story of where we have been as people is fascinating to me. I do feel that in order for us to be successful in our future and avoid
  repeating the mistakes of our past we must truly have an understanding of where it is that we have been. Such a courageous woman this Hazrat Zainab was to speak out so boldly against tyranny in her time. Truly inspiring! You've given me some more reading to find out more about this remarkable woman, I think. Thank you for the introduction of this lady .  And such a wonderful meditation in your poem. A fitting tribute to this holy and inspiring woman of justice and peace.




Neil Perry:  I'd never heard of Hazrat Zainab  before, but she seemed an interesting person who was against injustice.



Em Meilė : This is a beautiful story plucked from history...and you have paid great honor and homage to our brave predecessor Hazrat Zainab, with your wise and beautiful words.  I stand beside you, Matloob, as we plant the seeds together.




Satyender ParkashAas: Peace be upon you, who prayed, mindful,idealistic,inspiring the human fully. I love this too.


Tina Farnworth : I am an atheist but Hazrat Zainab  sounds like an interesting lady! A strong woman indeed!

Tod McNeal: Beautiful Matloob! Had a guy friend me and begin posting all kind of hateful spew against Muslims on my page. That sort of thing is divisive and not in Unity. There are Muslims who can't stand Christians and Christians who can't stand Muslims. Both are not living in the light of LOVE that both religions place at the highest order of importance. Sadly both Holy books associated with the respective religions have plenty of quotable fodder (and even more sadly actionable fodder) for those whom wish to be divisive and hateful to others. ONE LOVE is not just Christian to Christian or Muslim to Muslim...it is UNITY with all. That is how I feel.


Ann Carruth Donoghue: Very powerful write, bravo x
John Castellenas : I like your thoughts and the purpose of this poem.




Kristine Nicholson: Yes, it is the people with goodness in their hearts who make Spirit shine through the words & institutions of religion! Your Ode to Hazrat  Zainab is glorious! :) Ken


Flora Vasconcelos : Peace be upon the suffering flesh , the suffocated souls , the barbed-wired hearts , the walled eyes , the forbidden breath!





Kriston Scott:I didn't know this lady. It is enlightening. Thank you so much for telling  the story of Hazrat Zainab, Peace be upon her ~   inspiring and beautiful.


Sandra Delussu: Where are those bold people gone dwell?
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
i seem to only see three constellations in the night
sky these days... the modo -
it be the sign of: the age of scorpio,
there's but the big & little dipper (respectively)

º
               º
                      º

                              º
      ­                                                      º
         ­                         º
                                      ­               º

do these people really need to be spoon fed?
the smaller dipper is akin to the big
dipper, hence to write in the other
and last constellation (minus that odd rhombus
without a name) -
  and believe me when i say: orthodox
astrology doesn't agree with me:

                          º
                       º
                    º

                       º
                         º
                          

            º                          º  

i guess i managed to draw the right
schematic,
   besides the point, there are but
three constellations in the night sky
around here, and one is a revisionist take
on the scorpio...
******* hippies, and your age of aquarius,
     this is what a scorpion looks like,
and nothing what you've indicated,
i'm starting to think that astrologists
did poorly in geometry class...

but i'll end it on a positive note...
  
   there is more dignity in being ascribed an
epitaph, than being given a "proper" burial...


and by "proper" i mean: the leech family
members waiting for inheritance,
  the sycophantic actors of attendance -

throw me into a mass grave, i don't mind
for a "proper" burial...
   there is no dignity in whatever burial
ensues as many will do...
but allow man to transcend
the date of birth ** / yy / zz
and the date of death zz / yy / **
with an epitaph...
        however "wise" the man was in life,
his dignity only arrives postmortem,
in the form of an epitaph...

but one epitaph overshadows a thousand
quotable mentions of the man, when alive,
but one epitaph of a david,
overcomes the oeuvre of maxims of a goliath.
    
whatever argument for light pollution exists,
even when in the scottish highlands
i didn't see any more stars...
  there are only three constellations in play
on the night sky,
  and one of them is the genuine scorpio
constellation,
with the orthodox constellation being
bogus, fake, unnecessary...

i, i've spotted the constellation of scorpio,
and i did so: with my naked eyes!
Sam Greig-Mohns Mar 2012
Words fell from my mouth
Like snowflakes or rain storms
And as I stopped to ponder them
I saw the names of other people
Like Dickinson and Frost
They floated between my own words
And changed the few they touched
Until there was little left
But lines borrowed
Then left to dust
Priya Devi May 2015
Dear girl who dreams of my  manic pixie nightmare

You are the one I never expected to meet
I am the one you have met a million times before

You're the girl obsessed with film craving invasion on television screens, propagandist **** muse, docs and a **** cut
I'm the girl obsessed with ******* and using boundaries as skipping ropes or thread to turn my hair to tapestry

You're Bowie
I'm Hendrix

You like visuals, shapes and sound and pretty cinematography and things I can't understand, your mind is a transcript in calligraphy I can't decipher,
I like books that come in three and getting to the end and not knowing how to live anymore

You're brimming full of hope and dreams and set lighting
I'm disappointment and drowning shame in the bottom of tumblers, spilling the leftovers into quotable dialogue

You're too good for my obscenity to taint, you can't find what you're looking for in me
I'll be your undoing spiralling constantly in a figure 8

You are the manic pixie dream girl we've all been searching for
Shlomo  Jan 2019
'Black'
Shlomo Jan 2019
Part I

When in doubt blame the black man.
Doubly so if it rhymes with that man,
the crack man. The cap man, the rack man. We got you on a lock man.
Shoot em, **** em, **** em up, all the way up!
Till he's nothing but black, man.

*** what could be worse than being black?
A half-man.
Ubiquitous; everywhere, but fits in with no man.
Woman? The last said there's something off about that man.

Part II

All I did was swipe right, and now it feels like a wrong turn.
"Maybe it's just not your turn yet."
Or maybe I'm trying too hard, with nothing but bad bets.
Feelings of desperation, manipulation is **** near perpetual.
**** it. I'm just tryna get another quotable, man.
https://shlomotion.co/poems/black-and-right/
Advent  Feb 2019
Untitled
Advent Feb 2019
I feel like a sick lady waiting for well wishes from my sisses and mates. I’ve been a giver and a settler and in three weeks, I found myself hanging in between. And now here I am, in my sickbed crying for attention— living in this pocket-sized, time-filler, slick box for most of my days just prying on everybody else’s lives to check how incomparable it is to live a life less like mine.

Everyday at five, the sun sets, overshadowing the blue sky with soft transitions of reds and oranges. And just right before I knew it days, weeks have already gone by. I found myself with nothing but dull empathy and collective misery. I re-spiraled down to the mantle of my being until it hit me— attention is cheap, but intention is gold. And I have wasted so much time, so much time, chasing the idea of perfect romance from the most impossible people. It made me worry, too, on how bad I have been in making decisions just to curtly satisfy my longing for any human who can provide even the slightest damp on my cold skin.

I’m not trying to compose a self-help quotable narrative nor ****-**** essay about self-love. I have stripped off the idea of 1-2-3s, of healthy coping mechanisms, of capturing perfect moments from the most mediocre, mundane fragments of life during my trying times. These past few encounters have been merely playdates and guessing games where I’ve lost sight of innocence and sincerity, making it hard for me to differentiate temporariness with permanence. And knowing kindness with or without an agenda is like a cloud in my head. Therefore, throughout these years, the flowers I planted have slowly wilted under the shade of infinite uncertainties. I have lost the love I was willing to give, and I can’t help but think that romance is not for me. I’m tired of giving and losing; I have given up moving mountains and breaking walls just to find myself being stabbed for being too much. From this day on, I am going to be me, with me. A bloke. A woman—alone in a swarm of parasites and flock of birds. A strong, pragmatic, detached woman in this horrifying epic journey of self-salvation.

—Advent
3:27am
Grace Apr 2018
Sometimes girl of the First, when I catch a glimpse of you
in the mirrors at angles or in the scraps you’ve left behind,
I become convinced that I’m doing better.
I see you, in a moment of red faced sadness,
breathless from taking things too literally,
red eyed and pink from the constant six am to midnight days.
I’m better than that, I begin to think and then
I wake up on mornings like this one, aware of my own uselessness,
itchy with guilt and pulling at my hair as the impending sinks
down on me and I have no idea how I’m going to survive this.

So let’s go back two years, to see the girl of the First.
It’s March Two Thousand and Sixteen, and I’m sure you’ve heard it before, but
Every morning, I wake up and tell myself to seize the day, and every evening, I’m still where I started: happiest when daydreaming, worst when living.
It’s like looking up and expecting to see someone else but meeting your own eyes.
Except, do we really know our own eyes? Possibly not.
It’s like looking up and seeing my self, but off kilter slightly.
Seize the day? Now we just accept the flatness.

So I’m trying to write this out, as if it will help.
To write from the heart, or straight from the mind, as they say, but my fingertips and the realm of feelings don’t always connect.
Except they must do, you see,  because thirty thousand, three hundred and seventy six words later, you are still writing it out, as if it will help.

But here it is, How I Feel:
It’s an itching beneath my skin,
one I can’t scratch unless
I peel my skin off first and claw at veins,
but never mind that. You can adjust yourself
to this terrible tingling that plagues your limbs,
but you can’t get over the very real moments
of looking in the mirror and ruining all the skin
on you body, not for some deep or dark reason,
but just because.
It’s a pain in the chest, that doesn’t lift.
It’s called anxiety, or maybe guilt-ridden happiness.
It’s a restless sleep, half awake, half not. (What?)
It feels disgusting, like I’m tangled, mangled up inside.
It all feels disconnected. (Like this Is Not Real)
Like the wires to reality have been severed.
It’s like that cool suspension between believing yourself
to be the Worst Person In The Whole World Ever
and also so completely out of this world, that you don’t even belong in it.

It’s the Big Cliche.
What can I do to make my feelings original?
What can I do to make my feelings a little less self-referential?
Nothing. We’re in a mirror maze of our self, remember?

So I’m just smiling on the outside, to make it up to you,
to pretend, again, but I hold two conversations
simultaneously, one in my head
and another with you.
(Yes, today’s been alright)
(I wish I could **** myself)
(it’s been fairly good| I wish I wasn’t here anymore)
(and we’re back to back, and you’re resting against my shoulder blades
or your fingers are digging into my collar bones,
and you’re resting your mouth against my ear to spit in it.
I’m just trying to have a normal conversation,
but you’re leaning against my arm, murmuring, I wish I was dead)
(I know, I say, I know, I know, I know)
It feels like I can’t move.
But I do and I don’t want to.
There’s a world out there,
(a whole ocean)
but I’d rather be in my head (on the shore) but maybe it’s that which makes it all worse and yet going out makes me feel more useless.
There’s just nowhere that I want to be. My own head, my own daydreams are boring.
My room, my house, my safe haven, have become spaces I want to run away from.
But where to? There’s nowhere in this whole stupid wide world that I want to be.

Look, how I’ve descended into whines and plain language. I guess I’m just not poetic enough to make feelings look pretty, but then some feelings can’t be made pretty.
They can be made quotable to the point where we are all metaphorical.
Writing it out, making it unreal, as if it will help.

The problem is
is that the problem doesn’t go away.
It’s the inevitable vagueness. The only solution is the end of everything.
It won’t get better because I keep scratching at it.
I’ve been making my own monsters (read, problems) for years.
It’s out of my control because it will inevitably happen.
It is. It is. It does.

That double is. It’s ugly. But how do I operate on language and make it work my way? What can line breaks do? Surely, that makes it poetry?
Experimental, at best. But we’re useless remember, girl of First year?
What does it matter anymore? Nothing matters.
We’re never going to make it, so why worry about it being interesting anyway?

But these are excuses, everyone else’s and mine too. Just stop worrying, as soon as you get on with it,
it will be over. And now it is and you’re making four out of three
because now it’s the end, you don’t want to leave.
Smile, it might never happen.
(It has.) (It will.)
Smile, sometimes faking it does help.
If you can forget your sadness,
if you can dress it up,
sometimes you can delude yourself enough
to create pockets of time in which things might be
maybe, maybe, maybe, okay!
(I’m not making any promises though)

Yet here is the Problem, the Contradiction:
I don’t know what  I really want out of this.
It’s wandering aimlessly, looking for approval and appreciation that I can’t take when it’s given. It’s walking in circles to make time pass, it’s rewriting old poetry, to make time pass, it’s doing anything, to make time pass.
There’s nothing you want out of this.
(Sometimes, things can just be important in and of themselves,
but in this case, I mean you can’t make your dreams a reality
because you have no dreams)

Everything feels tacky, (Everything feels bad)
life’s like a gift shop.
It only looked good when I was seven.

(It’s like being crowded, when nobody’s near)
Just don’t touch me, don’t talk to me,
and I’ll  write bad poetry in the library
because I’m so lonely and
the library of first year is a
cold, damp space in your mind.
They build a new one and it’s
one of those spaces you can
convince yourself you are useful in.
Just don’t talk to me,
I’m so dull, but god, am I so lonely.
Life’s just a game of making time
pass in a cold, empty library,
crying into the books because
it’s too dark to read the words.

I’m making monsters from all the bad I can find.
I’m running from the things I’ve made with my own hands.
(Can you guess what I mean?)
(I bet you can.)
(And if you can’t now, you will do later)
(Frankenstein, over and over again.)
(At least I’ve stopped trying to be Victor)
(I’d rather be Ginevra, and maybe that’s worse)

I’ve used all these images before and I’ll use them again,
(And these are just the images I’ve described so many times before –
somewhere between the First and Third, we’ve decided to start rewriting our self)
but they’re the ones that stick like worn out phrases in conversations.
Dead metaphors (of me,)
and I’m itching
like mosquitoes have landed beneath my skin and are eating me alive.
I stand in the now, quoting myself. I know, I say, here’s the mirror box.
I’m making my own dead metaphors and my own personal clichés and
at what point did I get so tangled in myself? I have no idea how to survive
the world, so I make a labyrinth of my own poetry.
The girl of the First pulled this all together from scraps and notes.
She kind of experimented with this by writing at different times, in different moods, inserting new bits in and laughing at the reflection of herself, because what’s better than a nice a bit of self-depreciation to soothe all the guilt?
It’s not her best work, but she just needed to get back into writing poetry,
and to get back at herself.

I’m just so torn between wishing (today) was over or hoping it will stay to put off tomorrow.
I’m just so caught between wanting to end it all and wanting to survive it.
I’m just so torn between wanting time to pass and wanting time to stop.
I’m craving the shore again, but I’m desperate for (desperately afraid of) new places
Just go with it, I try to tell myself, let it happen, but the only thing that’s coming is the dark, vague inevitable and I think I’d rather run back into the mirror maze and back into myself.

Girl of the First, sometimes I think I’m doing better,
but at other times I think you were right.
It only gets worse.
I specialise in grotesquely long poems, making my own dead metaphors and attempting to avoid the future :)

From the girl of the First, back in March Two Thousand and Sixteen:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1576767/im-sure-youve-heard-it-before-but/
MBJ Pancras Jun 2020
Adam
The unborn human
Made of soil by the Lord
For to rule the world.

2. Eve

Made of Adam’s rib
To live and serve with her mate
But fallen to sin.

3. Disobedience

The act against God
Inclined to the devil’s word
Unbelief in God.

4. Nakedness of Adam and Eve

Disgraced by their sin
Saturated in the fruit
Stripped of holiness.


5. The Garden of Eden

The place of God’s land
Of freedom and temptation
Of good and evil.

6. Satan in Serpent

The one arch rival
Of God, fallen of his pride,
Intruded to rob.

7. The Fruit of knowledge of Good and Evil

A mystery image
Made of God to try His man;
The logic of God.

8. The first parents’ punishment

Drifted from God’s Peace;
Fallen into Satan’s trap;
Of sorrows and death.

9. Abel

A righteous God’s son,
And born to be slain by Cain;
Innocence perceived.

10. Cain

A tool of evil
Shrouded with disgrace and shame;
The root of evil.

11. Noah and the Ark

God’s righteous man
Saved by his obedience
By the Grace of God.

12. The Flood

The Judgment of God
Fallen upon sins;
A great symbol of new life

13. Babel Tower

The evil image,
A symbol of human pride,
Conquered by Wisdom.

14. Abraham

God’s chosen human;
A father of great nations;
The faith understood.

15. Sarah

A blessed mother;
Blessed with Isaac in late age;
Abraham’s true heart.

16. Ishmael

A son of Abram
Born of Hagar by force;
Displeasure of God.

17. ***** and Gomorrah

The twins of evil,
Cradled by Satan with filth;
Burnt into ashes

18. Lot’s wife

An image of greed;
Ruled by the worldly desire;
A pillar of salt!

19. Isaac

The bond of Lord God
With Abraham for the race;
Faith tested in him.

20. Rebekah

Born to Bethuel
Full of generosity,
Mother of Jacob.

21. Jacob

Power and grace of God
Meant for cunning and deceit;
Yet blessed with Israel.

22. Rachel

A wife of Jacob;
Favourite and pleasing; mother
Of new progeny.

23. Aaron

A high-priest of God;
Elder brother of Moses,
A prophet of God.

24. Andrew

Yea, an apostle of Christ,
Brother of Simon Peter,
Living with the fish.


25. Barabbas

A condemned robber,
A convict praised by the Jews,
Thoughtless of the good.

26. Daniel

A man of visions;
Hero in the Lion’s den,
Unharmed by God’s Hand.

27. David

The psalmist of God,
The second king of Israel,
Guided by the Lord.

28. Samson and Delilah

A fool with muscle
Deprived by an evil force,
Fallen to blind death.

Scheming pretty ***,
Tainted with treachery,
Realm of sedition.

29. Elijah

A Hebrew prophet,
Persecuted for slurring
Ahab and Jez’bel.

30. Elisha

A great successor
Of Elijah, a prophet,
A stern disciple.


31. Enoch

The son of Jared,
Prior to Noah’s Great Flood,
Taken by the Lord.

32. Joseph

Sold to slavery
By his own jealous brothers,
The great vizier.


33. Esau

The twin of Jacob,
Sold his birthright to Jacob,
A son of Isaac.

34. Esther

Beauty embodied,
Then turned a queen of Persia,
Saviour of people.

35. Ezekiel
His book of visions
Predicts the fall of Judah
And Jerusalem.

36. Ezra

Ancient Jewish priest,
Law-maker at the altar,
Sent from Babylon.

37. Gideon

A wise Hebrew judge;
Led the Israel to victory
‘Gainst  Midianites.


38. Goliath

Philistine giant
Killed by David with a stone,
Terror to Hebrews.

39. Jesus Christ

He’s the Word of God,
The Way to Eternity,
God in human flesh.

40. John the Baptist

Forerunner of Christ,
Beheaded by King Herod,
Baptizer of Christ.

41. Judas Iscariot

Betrayer of Christ,
Fallen on thirty pieces
Silver to death.



42. Lazarus

Restored from death
By Jesus; for whom Christ wept,
Mary and Martha’s.

43. Lot

Abraham’s nephew;
Escaped *****’s destruction,
His wife, salt pillar.

44. Luke

An Evangelist,
A physician, who wrote Acts
And Jesus’ Gospel.

45. Mary Magdalene

A sinful woman,
Redeemed of evil spirits,
Devoted to Christ.

46. Matthew

A tax collector,
An apostle of Jesus,
A Gospel writer.

46. Matthias
A Christ’s Apostle,
Chosen by lot to replace
The Christ’s betrayer.

47. Melchizedek  

The priest of Salem,
A prototype of Jesus
Christ’s priesthood of God.

48. Moses

A Hebrew prophet,
Who had led the Israelites
To the Promised Land.


49. Nebuchadnezzar  

King of Babylon,
Who  destroyed Jerusalem;
Exiled the Jews.



50.  Paul

A Christ’s Apostle,
Died as a martyr in Rome;
Wrote great Epistles.

51 Peter

One who left fishing
For Christ as an Apostle,
Denied Christ three times.

52. Pontius Pilate

“What is Truth?” He asked.
The Roman procurator,
His hand in Christ’s death.

53. Solomon

The king of Israel,
Credited with great wisdom,
Son of David.

54. Susanna

The wife of Joachim,
Falsely accused but saved by
Daniel's wisdom.

55. Tetragrammaton

Hebrew Name for God;
Revealed to Moses on Mount
Sinai. Named ‘Yahweh’.

56. Mary

The worldly mother
Of Jesus who fostered Him
Till His death of Cross.

57. Ten Commandments

The law for the Jews
Carved on the stone, and rendered
Through Moses for them.

58. David’s sling

God’s Power hidden,
“Gainst the evil Goliath,
A sign of victory.



59. The Great Flood

The Lord’s Great wrath ‘gainst sins,,
The fair judgment of the Lord
For a new era.

60. Noah’s Ark

God’s Shelter on earth,
A prototype of Jesus
Christ for salvation.

61. Pillar of Salt

Symbol of man’s greed,
Lot’s wife, the victim of greed,
Wrath of human sin.

62. Plagues of Egypt

Curses of the Lord
Upon the sins of Israel,
Lesson to the world.

63. Solomon’s Wisdom

Incomparable
Gift of God to Solomon,
And none on earth has.

64. Psalms

Heartfelt songs to God,
Joy and distressed flow from heart,
Musical prayers.

65. Ecclesiastes

Truth of Vanities,
Preaching the short span of life,
And to fear the Lord.

66. Proverbs

Wise sayings of God,
Hidden truth of life in short,
All quotable quotes

67. Genesis

In the beginning,
Record of God’s creation
And of great nations.



68. Exodus

Israelites’ freedom
From slavery in Egypt;
The book of journey.

69. Leviticus

Book on rituals,
Traditions and practices
Led to the altar.

70. Numbers

The culmination
Of the life of Israelites’
Flight from the *******.

71. Deuteronomy

Drifting of Israel
In wilderness forty years,
And of Moses’ death.

72. Joshua

Conquest of Canaan,
Campaigns of the Israelites,
Forming of twelve tribes.

73. Judges

Unfaithful Israel
Fallen into punishment,
Cycle of sins ran.

74. Ruth

Ruth accepting God,
Israelites as her own folks,
Liturgical book.


75. I & II Samuel

Forming theology,
God’s Law given through prophets,
Based on Jewish life.

76. I & II Kings

History of Israel
From the death of King David
To Jehoiachin’s aid.


77. I & II Chronicles

Genealogy
From Adam. A narrative
Till Cyrus the Great.

78. Ezra

The first arrival
Of exiles during Cyrus,
About unique Jews.

79. Nehemiah

Firmness to restore
Jerusalem. Appointed
Judah’s Governor.

80. Esther

The queen of Persia;
Upset of the genocide
Of her own people.

81. Job

The vindication
Of God’s justice for man’s woes,
A theology.

82. Song of Solomon

Celebrating
****** love and enjoyment;
****** passion.

83. Isaiah

Jerusalem be
The centre of worldwide rule
By the Messiah.

84. Jeremiah

Message to the Jews
In exile in Babylon,
For their idol gods.

85. Lamentations

Grief o’er the city’s
Desertion; return to God,
A funeral dirge.



86. Ezekiel

Visions on three themes:
Judgment on Israel; nations,
Blessings for Israel.

87. Daniel

End time portrayal,
Visions and message of God
That He is just God.

88. Hosea

Slur at idol gods,
A metaphorical note:
Israel’s faithlessness.

89. Joel

Great Lamentations
Over locust plague and drought,
Call for repentance.

90. Amos

A short oracle
Announcing God’s great judgment,
Disgrace of great crimes.

91. Sin

The passage to death,
The arch enemy of God,
In various forms.  

92. Judas’ Betrayal

It is Judas’ Kiss,
God’s plan destined for Christ’s death,
Closeness defeated.

93. Peter’s Denial

Human fear of man,
Mortal bond ‘gainst Jesus’ Way,
Winning cowardice.

94. I AM

The Name of Lord God,
The Everlasting Father,
Holiness in Christ.



95. Grace

The unmerited
Divine aid to human life
For their saintly life.  

96. Mercy

The compassionate
Forbearance shown to the crooks
For their repentance.

97. Gratitude

Of being thankful;
Readiness to love others,
A virtuous act.

98. Repentance

Sorry for one’s crimes,
The divine change from one’s sins,
Pow’r of salvation.

99. Patience

The power of courage,
Tolerance of incitement
With no annoyance.

100. Truth

The Lord Jesus Christ,
The Way to Eternity,
Christ’s Second Coming.

101. Obadiah

An oracle of
Edom’s divine judgment note,
Restore of Israel.

102. Jonah

Swallowed by a fish,
Drifted from God’s commandment,
And then repented.

103. Micah

Jerusalem’s ruin
Predicted; Judah rebuked
For its idol gods.



104. Nahum

Assyrian’s end
Predicted, and Nineveh,
Poetical style.

105. Habakkuk

Five oracles of
Chaldeans rise to power,
Might be a Levi.

106. Zephaniah

Warnings of the Day
Of the Lord with His Judgment
Upon the sinful.


107. Haggai

Rebuilding temple
Greatly to strike poverty
In Jerusalem.

108. Malachi

Of second return
Of prophet Nehemiah
From Persia long time.

109. Mark

Of Jesus’ mission,
Sketch of Christ as a Hero,
A Gospel writer.

110. Luke

An Evangelist;
Doctor who wrote the Gospel,
Might have written Acts.

111. John

Disciple Christ loved,
Revealed Christ, the Word of God,
And Jesus’ mystery.

112. Acts

Birth of Christian Church,
Christ for the Gentiles also,
Luke might be author.


113. Romans

Pauline Epistle
Of salvation through Gospel,
The Church growth in Rome.

114. I & II Corinthians

Rebuking Corinth
Of their infamous life-style,
Paul, a firm preacher.

115. Galatians

The controversy
With the gentiles o’er Moses’
Law for salvation.

116. Ephesians

Keeping Christ’s Body
Pure and holy –that’s the theme,
Paul’s fervent preaching.

117. Philippians

‘Thank You’ note from Paul,
Epaphroditus’ fortunes,
Canonical note.

118. Colossians

Christ’s supremacy
Over the whole universe,
Godly life to lead.

119. I & II Thessalonians

Firm preaching of Christ,
Salvation only in Christ,
All must be redeemed.

120. I & II Timothy

Leadership in Church,
Warnings against false doctrines,
The roles of women.

121. Titus

Unruly false teachers,
Who led people towards death,
A scathing attack.



122. Philemon

Self-designation
As a prisoner of Jesus,
Prayerful request.

123. Hebrews

Christ, the Radiance of God’s
Glory; the Express Image,
Upholding all things.

124. James

Patience in trials,
Christians to overcome sins,
Consistent in Christ.

125. I & II Peter

Steadfastness in faith,
Christian virtues exalted,
False teachers condemned.

126. I, II & III John

Fellowship with God,
Not to lose learnt of Jesus,
Hospitality.

127. Jude

Quotes from the ancient,
Admonishes all to live
In Christ forever.

128. Revelation

Obscure images,
Spiritual images,
Symbolic fable.

129. The star from the East

Christ for the Gentiles,
Salvation for everyone,
The world needs a guide.

130. The Magi

Christ, the King of kings,
All shall bow before the Christ,
The Greatest Ruler.



131. The shepherds

God shall not forget
Even the common people,
Pastoral image.

132. The Manger

Christ’s humility,
A virtue of a leader,
Proven example.

133. Mary and Joseph

The Lord’s chosen womb,
And the chosen guardian
Of the Divine Babe.

134. Scourges upon Christ

Sins of the mankind,
The obedience of man
To satanic law.

135. Crown of Thorns

Pleasures of the world
At the cost of Divine Love,
Unholy worship.

136. Crucifixion

The old law been sealed,
The Law of Love to open,
The sin on the Cross.

137. “Why hast Thee forsaken Me?”

Sin separated
Man from God. Great agony
Without holy God.

138. The Garden of Gethsemane

A communion
Betwixt Christ and the Father,
Blood of agony.

139. Miracles of Jesus Christ

The Power of God
Manifested upon Christ
That the world knows HIM>



140. The Early Days of Jesus

A preparation
For the Divine Ministry
That man follows HIM.

141. Jesus’ First Coming

The Way born for man
Unto God the Eternal,
Of Mercy and Love.

142. Christ’s Second Coming

End of human life,
Christ the Judge to curse sinners,
Steadfast in HIS Plan.

143. Jesus’ Resurrection

Death has lost its sting,
The arch foe of God defeated,
Mankind begets Hope.

144. The Pentecost

The Spirit of God
Descended upon people
To proclaim the Word.

145. Atheist

The terrible phase
Of mankind which rejects God,
Shrouded with darkness.

146. Disbelief in Christ

Shrouded with glamour,
Lover of Death forever,
Sipping sweet poison.

147. Idol Worship

Brutal devotion,
Acrobatic somersaults,
Towards the Chasm.

148. Temptation

Sugar-coated trap,
Poison in enticing fruit,
A sweet hug to fall.



149. A soul between good and evil

Between Life and Death,
Walking on a strip of thread,
A sword on one’s throat.

150. Satan

Fallen Lucifer
With unseemly countenance
Wolfing human souls.

151. Heaven

God’s Abode ever,
Ineffable Glory reigns,
Joyous Light dwelleth.

152. Hell

The pit of Satan,
Agonizing gnashing teeth,
The endless darkness.

153. Judas’ Kiss

Outright betrayal,
Unrepentant self-collapse,
Thirty silver bits.

154. Sermon on the Mount

Beatitudes of life,
Truth preached with figures of speech,
The Voice of the Lord.

155. Eternity

The timeless journey,
No halts; no breaks; no fatigue,
Existence ever.

— The End —