My body was there, but not the soul within,
I felt something strange, a battle to begin.
Unfamiliar feelings, emotions untamed,
Lost in a world where I couldn't be named.


I moved and spoke, but the words felt astray,
As if I were dancing to a tune I couldn't play.
My body, a vessel, devoid of the core,
A silent, empty vessel, craving something more.


In the silence of that moment, I yearned to be whole,
To reunite with my soul, to fill the gaping hole.
For I knew in that instance, what was truly amiss,
My body was present, but my soul was in abyss.

what kind of person fantasizes about being sicker than they already are?
man, it's time I realize life is worth it and I've made it this far
when I can't forget, can't forgive, and get stuck
tires spinning, thoughts running, strength thinning
out of control
what role does my faith play in feeling whole?
I wish I could erase this hole eating away inside
but then I might just feel more empty
I try to cut through the feelings by cutting through the skin that covers this lifeless body
the razor shreds my flesh instead of fleshing out all of the chaos inside this mess of a mind

We never had it all.
But we had an open sky full of stars.
The edge of the universe didnt seem that far.
Riding saturns rings all the way.
Passing the man in the moon with a smile and a wave.
Felt like cloud 9 only higher.
Astroids setting the night sky on fire.
Escaping reality stuck in a dream.
Lasting forever or so it seemed. Until
Out of nowhere tragedy struck.
An unseen darkness. With such a force of bad luck.
A black hole pulled us in.
A beautiful life never to be seen again.

I went down the rabbit hole
scrounging through darkness
squirming a maze of movements
just to reach a dead end
with only a rabbit waiting there
to inform me that I’m stuck in a hole.

** Xuan Huong (1772-1882) was a risqué Vietnamese poetess. Her verse — replete with nods, winks, double entendres and ****** innuendo — was shocking to many readers of her day and will doubtless remain so to some of ours. Huong has been described as "the candid voice of a liberal female in a male-dominated society." Her output has been called "coy, often ***** lyrics." More information about the poet follows these English translations of her poems.

Ốc Nhồi ("The Snail")
by ** Xuan Huong (1772-1882)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My parents produced a snail,
Night and day it slithers through slimy grass.
If you love me, remove my shell,
But please don't jiggle my little hole!



The Breadfruit or Jackfruit
by ** Xuan Huong (1772-1882)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My body's like a breadfruit ripening on a tree:
My skin coarse, my pulp thick.
My lord, if you want me, pierce me with your stick,
But don't squeeze or the sap will sully your hands!



Bánh trôi nước ("Floating Sweet Dumpling")
by ** Xuan Huong (1772-1882)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My powdered body is white and round.
Now I bob. Now I sink.
The hand that kneads me may be rough,
But my heart at the center remains untouched.

Most of Huong's poems were written in Nôm script, a complex Vietnamese adaptation of Chinese characters employed from the 15th to 19th centuries. Through her Nôm poems, Huong helped elevate the status of Vietnamese poetry. A century later, she was called "the Queen of Nôm poetry" by Xuan Dieu, one of Vietnam’s greatest poets.

** Xuan Huong was apparently born in the Quynh Luu district of the north-central province of Nghe An. Xuan Huong means "Spring Fragrance" or "Scent of Springtime." Her father, a scholar named ** Phi Dien, died young. Her mother remarried, as a concubine. Huong grew up near Thang Long (modern Ha Noi), in a male-dominated society in which polygamy was permitted and men were more privileged than women. Huong may or may not have been a concubine herself. Very little is known with any certainty about her life. In 1962, Nguyễn Đức Bính admitted, "I don't know anything about the poetess Hồ Xuân Hương and other people don't know any more than I do." And yet legends do take on lives of their own ...

Keywords/Tags: ** Xuan Huong, Vietnamese, English translations, snail, grass, shell, hole, breadfruit, jackfruit, tree, skin, hands, sap, stain, dumpling, body, powder, powdered, sink, bob, swim, pond, heart, center, red, nom script, spring fragrance, spring essence, concubine

A hole.

Means there's space to grow.

Now go forth, with this knowledge and go insane.

And never forget, my disciple, space out for the space outside is beautiful and the space away is always greener.

Endlessly strive to get nothing accomplished. Click the X. Submit the test. There will be no marks for you. Fill it yourself.

Sometimes I look at you,
And love runs through my veins.
A love that that brings energy
For my brain,
My muscles,
My spirit.
Sometimes I look at you,
And I don't understand,
What you're doing here,
With me,
Why you love me
So broken
Beyond repair.
Sometimes I look at you,
And I want to drag you
To this hole I'm living in,
Perhaps that way
I won't be so lonely
Perhaps that way
You'll feel what I feel
And discover
You'll be better off somewhere else.

Existence of human life is derived from living microbes,
Living microbes created from carbon, hydrogen oxygen and other elements from earth’s matter,
Cell development three billion years ago has led to creation and subsistence of plants and animals,
Living ecosystem and animals developed from monkeys to apes,
Evolution of apes to human’s transition has been the most controversial phenomena,

Making brains think of black hole and big bang theories,
Bringing Theory of coexistence and Theory of Evolution in place,
Finding substantial evidence is key to understanding the formation of life,
Where 7 theories on origin of life was initiated,
Biogenesis and abiogenesis became the cult of living hypothesis,

Where DNA and RNA has given the living forms to read the genetic blueprint,
Searching for the new theories of existence and evolution,
Developing new atmosphere in the universe across earth, ocean and sky,
Where each process is dependent on natural existence,
Life is moving with the physicochemistry of biological survival.

By Madhusudan Dabhole

today I’m gonna make it

getting done with the stuff I left for days or a week, reading a book once again that I excitedly flipped every page, losing a grip on a string of a blue balloon, today I’m gonna spend all of my pennies to my unrequited wish, similarly to a black hole that keeps gnawing my heart; this is what it cost.

Today I’m gonna find out why they are calling us “black swans”. I will make their blood drain, we will dance at them until their eyes glow green. Today I’m gonna make it, but not the girl who cried wolf at night.

Loneliness steadily chisels away my soul
Colder each moonlit night
Where heart was located is now just a hole
Empty bed without love will never feel right