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I'm obsessed with these two boys, that I'll never meet.
I love to hear them make noise, I think it's very sweet. 
They changed my life for the good, and I can never thank them.
I'd hug them if I could, say all the things I've been wanting to say to 'em. 
I listen to them everyday, no matter in what way it is.
It could be in my mind as I lay, relaxing in pure bliss. 
They're in my head and they won't leave, it's getting to be painful, knowing we'll never meet.
Their songs, are telling me to believe, but it's getting hard, I'm feeling defeat...
When I wrote, in like 2018, it was about my favorite music duo, Bars and Melody. They saved my life with their music. They will forever be in my heart.
We feel ourselves rogue and peasant slaves -
In that is no disgust.
Collectively yet to have been stripped of
Our formalities, plunged into fiction, devoid of normality -
An undiscovered country, if you must.

We doze cosy in dreams of passion
Where space and silence nudges pens; they bleed.
Though liquidity stiffens
Flair and genius warm the air
Assuming a pleasing shape, indeed.

We weep under a broken voice
When seas of trouble rise to strike us down.
Remorseless - how can it pause to pick and choose?
Treacherous - anxiety bedevils our news
But temporary, false is its crown.

When we think or moan, twiddle thumbs or disengage,
There is nothing, not even tears, that dares to drown our stage.
azzan Mar 29
Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Stained white on the inside,
Brown on the out.

Hit it on its head,
Slash it apart.
Nourish it with spices,
Of a Southern past.

Fuzzy to touch,
Lined in coir.
The remaining path
In defining who we are.

Droplets of the Ganges,
Drowned in the Thames.
A conflicted soul,
In search of a cleanse.

Coconut, coconut, coconut,
That one's spoiled!
So send him back.
for more, follow @azzan.juma on instagram!
OJ Mar 17
It is Tuesday March 17th
Stuck in the house with my family
School was cancelled
Friends cannot visit
Therefore I am here
I made a *** of mint tea for me and OJ's little sister
And did a lot of work OJ had not done
Checking email periodically to see if anyone died
I got up at 8 to clean the bathroom
Enjoyed some coffee with a waffle and jam

As I'm here I await a message from a friend on Skype
Staring at the screen as I write out this poem
As the words flow through my mind

I take a break and watch an old fashion loony tunes cartoon
The world lost a talented actor one year ago today.
After being on Earth for almost 83 years, he passed away.
He starred in 'Keeping Up Appearances' and 'The Old Guys'.
People also loved his performances in '1990' and 'Pack of Lies'.
He also entertained us when he starred in 'Othello' and 'Born and Bred'.
His entire fanbase has grieved for 365 days because he is dead.
I found my home in our country
I am a grateful part of you
Brothers, what will our future be?

Watch my Doctor Who, drink my tea,
I say "sorry" all the time, too:
I found my home in our country.

We make some people angry,
though, did we take something from you?
Brothers, what will our future be?

The Daily Mail isn't happy:
Too many foreigners who
can find a home in our country.

Learned the language, the History,
I love it all! I'm asking you:
Brothers, what will our future be?

Brothers, some of you don't want me,
I would still give my life for you.
I found my home in our country,
Brothers, what will our future be?
I'll become a UK citizen soon. I'm still not sure we're welcome anymore, but I would give my life for my fellow Britons
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
One thousand six hundred and sixty six
none: a salesman, a noble, or a cook
Macabre swam the sea of ****** Bay
In a fleet, the Dutch, French and Britsh he took

A crimson tide soaked the sand to a stain
Great reefs, he made, floating stench of maim
The more Macabre swam for lust of pain
More life, to the vast ocean floor, he claim

Now, three hundred and twenty three years on
Under a full moon in the depth of night
He, Macabre, still swims a ****** Bay
In search of an undaunted soul to fight.
A Personification of Macabre
Michael H Aug 2019
Your blue blood veins,
red, white, blue stains,
mind closed just like your borders.

Despite the wars,
the foreign and poor,
are given their marching orders.

you just don't see,
is what makes the world so great.

'The futures white, see',
'In good old Blighty',
you bleat as you close the gates.
Steve Jul 2019
Let’s build a wall to keep us all
A great big wall 12’ tall
And don’t put in a door
Then pretty soon
They’ll talk about it
On the moon
It will keep us in and keep
Them out and just in case
There’s any doubt
We’ll give ourselves a name
To show we’re not the same
A name with glamour
And with glitz
A name that rhymes with nitwits
**** and *****
Then everyone will sing another tune
We’ll call ourselves the Brits
And our leader will be
Boris the buffoon
Let’s make Britain great again
Let’s go to war with Spain
Or with France
Let’s lead the world a merry dance
When Britannia ruled the waves?
And history was written
On monuments
And in graves
What are we waiting for?
Let’s go to war
Let’s feed the poor
In killing fields
Like we did before
When we were great

God save the Queen
And the British State.
Hard to fathom how things have got to this depressing and frankly, worrying stage.
Justine milward Jun 2019

I’ll take my cue and talk about waiting
fidgeting, fumbling grumbling
Round the corner
For hours
But where would we be without the queue?
keeps us in line
Keep us in order
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