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Jenny Bllr May 5
you are
syntax and semantics
phonetics and phonology
you are
written and oral
formal and informal
you are
past and future
now and forever
you are
identity and heritage
togetherness and uniqueness
you are
simple and complex
imperfect and perfect
you are
Sexus Obscura Mar 2019
Oh, the way you inhabit me
I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying
Pulsing, your emanations
Consume me and I refuse to release you from my clutches
Struck breathless instantly
You offer little reason, but you return my robbed passion
I glimpse at your grave eyes
And I feel the tide of the sea within me start to part for you
You catalyze my stolen gaze
I almost feel you shudder and rush in my sodden esophagus
A soft pink suckle
I euphorically asphyxiate for you, on you – with you
Unuttered, my subconscious
Fabricates the smell and taste of your flesh using your words
My body is left ravenous
To the conjecture of your apparition as it levitates above me
Below you I kneel – impure
Please let your sensory invading of my aquatic mind cleanse me
I chant a plea to your figment
Imagining your tongue feeling the words move inside my mouth
My glistening incantations drip  
And I feel your stirring when my lips part for evening prayer
I awaken an appetent beast
Rising to dominate the submission hibernating in my sharp bones
My locked jaw wants it all
I won’t release you, so let me taste your last watery breath

I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying
Hiba Aamer Oct 2018
Wisps of sound rise and melt in the air,
The high and low stresses, the articulatory stretches;
Linger, vanish, manifest, proliferate – digest.

A humming note strokes the whims of a heart,
Through tapestries of tingling blade of tongue,
It slides into existence and existence it wears till it obliterates.

Wisps of sound rise and melt in the air,
Like Chinese ring daggers they curl into
the abode of your consciousness again.

A mellifluous phrase carries the calm of Ravi
as it glides through the hollows of ears,
Now in your memory, now forgotten,
Now revived, now devised,
Now it journeys towards the ripples of your utterance,
And now it fiddles with your own conscience.

A wisp of sound falls over the skyline of a tongue
It transforms into a soulful voice,
And arbitrarily makes sense!
ConnectHook Dec 2017
❣ = ❣ = ❣

HE am not it
WE am SHE but pronoun are sexist
SHE + IT = ****
HE + roomfull of SHEs = they (not sexist)

Down with all gender-based languages!
Gender-based grammar is inherently sexist and oppressive.
Grammar itself is a hateful, rigid, and often overtly racist construct.
It is little more than an imposed control system which attempts to assign roles and reinforce identities that facilitate social regimentation.  Such patriarchal and occidental euro-supremacist control must be resisted, even at the socio-linguistic level of grammar itself. Traditional family structure reinforces and justifies this linguistic oppression, and is to be forced to adapt or rendered obsolete. "Fathers" and "Mothers" must yield to  "others".

Useless vestiges of the fascistic Roman tongue such as Italian, Spanish, French, Portuguese, and Romanian, along with all associated Romance-derived dialects must adapt and evolve toward current progressive understandings of gender-fluid reality -- or be abandoned.

As a global and genderfluid re-evaluation of rigid and outmoded languages develops, humanity will make significant strides toward collective empowerment, both lexical and ******. Desire will be freed from patriarchal norms and find itself free to cathect onto the object of its enlightened choice.  False and patriarchal notions of singular/plural will no longer be inflicted on unrestrained multiplicities of being. We won't need no more significators to point out a practices that mean a nothings man out the reified racists of language herself as pronouned "other".  Boo boo hate she up the mandingo adder abbot shahooligalistaaphany.
Urgh urgh I are free! Bort grammar break ump ump humpty daffodil.
It am not significate ourselves into oblivion.
Deep le Ning Oct 2017
Wanting me liberty, beating?
through the Somewhere Do I...
reason to belong
are I the hold back start

When to just down,
Know be cold make me lost
you're a whole We
But I'm validation head,
till the English out not more,
and I find
have home gone
I wanna gone

turning Nothing My man are
They my till or hands,
it No river,
exchanged I could not,

Shouldn't You've the God,

Now don't go you on you go
and I fix if my
enough talk Wasted
smile them gone
can between
did me I street work

I wanna heal
honey May 2017
I regard my attraction to language as an affair,
as a withstanding relation,
a product of indecorous communication.
This devotion has demanded a life of its own,
accepting my whole as its proxy.
Others won't understand this affinity.
They aren't familiar with the curving lilt of a domestic tongue,
Nor the taste of a verse fermented in the mouths of one's ancestors,
Surely not the stuttering moans of a mother dialect,
Yet the sharp sting of a jagged vernacular,
or the mastery and art behind the articulation of a single utterance.
This discourse developed over time,
I required maturation and growing before my notions aligned.
I felt eager upon observing the pervasive movements of great text
Which delivered a high known greater than ***.
It is true that I contemplated profoundly first,
before committing my desire and will to the whole of verse.
But now that my diction reflects the appeal of great literature and enamoring fiction
I couldn't be more satisfied.
Viji Suresh May 2016
English with 26 letters, is generally thought to be the simplest language on earth. A language built up on 26 letters is amazing.

But within just handful of letters, how many words can be misspelled..

My childish attempt to rhyme and write...

ei or ie, we are confused when we write,
it's then the words jump to end their lives.

Homonyms, homophones, homographs
It's fun to know the very facts.

Bear tried to **** Jack with its bare hands,
Jack had to bear the brunt of the bear.

Speed is what we thrive to do
If we forget to Brake, will break a head or two.

100 cents makes a dollar
Jack sent his wife to buy a stroller
She smelled the scent of a broiler
And forget all about the stroller.

The people who lives in Desert
do they have dates as their Dessert?

The dinner was perfect
The wine complemented the feast
The hosts were perfect
And were complimented for their treat.

The King who reigned Prussia
Rode high holding his horse's reins,
But his horse started to panic
As it started to Rain.

Drew looked at his new site
The building looked a perfect sight
When asked for the legal owner
He cited the document which held his right.
Childish scribbles
E Townsend Oct 2015
Watching the exchange of two people in love
really validates the small percent of hope
I have left in marriage. It completely overshadows
the bad experiences I've seen between my parents.
You see how she absolutely lights up
when he talks, like the stars have arrived
after a rainy day. For those few moments
of seeing real love, I forgot all my cynical
views and desperately wished I had that exchange.
Hearing him say "This is why I married you"
after she said some intelligent remark about our
parts of speech work sheet, and her smile
spoke all the words unsaid. How so in love she still
is, with this man from their wedding ten years ago, and a kid throughout their ongoing journey. They are a story
so rarely told, and I want to shout to the world that love
remains alive.
I was in my linguistics class and my teacher's husband came in and posed as a student, and their energy played off so chemically explosive. When he was talking she was a beaming ray of joy. I hope to experience that one day.
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