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Robin Görtz Feb 18
Imagine a fortress of bright shining marble
With windows like eyes and a big open drawbridge
An entrance to street-life, the market and games.

Imagine a person engaging in struggle
A challenging life that is answered with courage
A wanderer pushing towards his aims

Imagine a mirror portraying a sparkle
Of fortress and wanderer linked in an image
Now add to the mirror a crack in the glass.
A silent sound
Travels past the edge of the universe
And I’m here
Wondering where you are

I’ve look from left to right
And to right to left
Hoping for your presence to step in
And save me from my own mess

I act like a childish man
Wishing for the world to fix
My every flaw and defect

But the world doesn’t work that way
And the sooner I realize that
Then my task will be set

The progress I one day want to see
Will depend on the work I put in
Robin Görtz Feb 13
The gentle Man

The gentle Man though one of lust
Is whistling only then,
When bonded in a veil of trust;
Not saved by many men
He holds the door for anyone,
He greets you as a fan.
He leaves a tip, he gets things done;
For he´s a gentleman.

A solid ground he offers those,
That tumbled, fought and fell,
When crashing waves of life went lose
And drowned all hopes of dwell.
He is the wall of steady stone,
His body fortified.
No hatred ever moves his bone.
His father lives and died.

His fist, well feared, the burning flame
A nourished by a demon force
Has never struck, but in a game
No human and no horse
Right in his pocket rests all hell
Five-fingered, clutched and nailed,
Yet he is calm 'cause let me tell
At him the devil failed.

His love is pure, is deep, is true.
The last a weapon still,
That pierces hearts like him and you
That crushes people´s will.
His tongue a blade he slowly cuts
Away the cancer lie
By breathing words with courage-guts
That hurt, that ****, revive.
रोज उठकर सबेरे पेट के जुगाड़ में, 
क्या न क्या करता रहा है आदमी बाजार में।
सच का दमन पकड़ के घर से निकलता है जो,
झूठ की परिभाषाओं से गश खा जाता है वो।

औरों की बातें है झूठी औरों की बातों में खोट,
और मिलने पे सड़क पे छोड़े ना दस का भी नोट।
तो डोलते हुए जगत में डोलता इंसान है,
डिग रहा है आदमी कि डिग रहा ईमान हैं।

झूठ के बाज़ार में हैं  खुद हीं ललचाए हुए,
रूह में चाहत बड़ी है आग लहकाए हुए।
तो तन बदन में आग लेके चल रहा है आदमी,
आरजू की ख़ाक में भी जल रहा है आदमी।

टूटती हैं हसरतें जब रुठतें जब ख्वाब हैं,
आदमी में कुछ बचा जो  लुटती अज़ाब हैं।
इन दिक्कतों मुसीबतों में आदमी बन चाख हैं,
तिस पे ऐसी वैसी कैसी आदतें गुस्ताख़ है।

उलझनों में खुद उलझती ऐसी वैसी आदतें,
आदतों पे खुद हैं रोती कैसी कैसी आदतें।
जाने कैसी आदतों से अक्सर हीं लाचार है,
आदमी का आदमी होना बड़ा दुश्वार है।

अजय अमिताभ सुमन
सत्य का पालन करना श्रेयकर है। घमंडी होना, गुस्सा करना, दूसरे को नीचा दिखाना , ईर्ष्या करना आदि को निंदनीय माना  गया है। जबकि चापलूसी करना , आत्मप्रशंसा में मुग्ध रहना आदि को घृणित कहा जाता है। लेकिन जीवन में इन आदर्शों का पालन कितने लोग कर पाते हैं? कितने लोग ईमानदार, शांत, मृदुभाषी और विनम्र रह पाते हैं।  कितने लोग इंसान रह पाते हैं? बड़ा मुश्किल होता है , आदमी का आदमी बने रहना।
Though no stick
In the forest
Is perfectly

But are
And bent,
And deteriorate

A Man
Comes around
Who loves
To create

And He takes
The crooked
And draws
Something straight

"God can draw a straight line with a crooked stick" - Martin Luther
Zywa Feb 4
We have competed

a lot over our fathers –

which of them was worse.
“Omstandigheden” (“Circumstances”, 2020, Koos van Zomeren)

Collection "Actively Passive"
There is no need for noble graces, with you, I have none. Just one entreat, request and command: "Come."

'You' see me for what I truly am, behind this regalia of dignity and honour; hides a ****** man. Now come, and heed my command.
You know me, for what I am; and yet still, you accept this broken man.
Betty Jan 30
All things bright and beautiful
all creatures great and small
all things wise and wonderful
we have defiled them all
a heap of broken butterflies
dodos & tigers too
it tells us all we need to know
about wonderful me and you!
Saying it like it is!
Nikkie Jan 30
I feel it in the tenderness in your expression,
when you call me baby over the phone.
I feel the  charm of your masculinity.
Something deep inside of you transfers esoterically
inside my soul.
I want you to get deeper into our merger.
I want to be your dream come true.
I want to cradle myself next to you;
a blanket on the floor, a pillow on the bed,
a tent in a back field in the middle of the night.
it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as I lay next
to my man.

I will be happy, I will be whole.
I like it when you call me baby, I am fully aware that
I am yours.
I am dedicated to my African King, and I know that you are
devoted to me.
When you call me baby, I know you mean it.
You arouse a fireside of warmth inside my wet harbor,
and when you call me baby, you make me feel like Black Beauty!
I feel the sensations of your heartbeat, jiving to music that
only we can hear..

You make me melt like heat to ice, when you touch my lips,
and kiss me goodnight.
I feel exclusively special when you call me your Lady!
I can’t help but hold a torch for you.
I like it when you call me baby, it makes me feel rather
profound for you.
When you call me baby over the phone,
I want to add your sentiment as my preferred ringtone.
Nikkie Jan 30
A watched *** never boils.
But when the heat is too high, the *** boils over.
Then again, when the *** is empty and sitting on
a burner, cold to the touch, it serves little to no
purpose. Why don’t you add something to the ***?
Why is it just sitting there? What are you planning to
do with it? Are you planning on adding your own
special recipe to the ***? Are you adding a unique
sauce to it? Are you going to add water to the *** and
allow it to simmer? Or you going to add a secret ingredient
to the *** that you don’t want anybody to know about?
Is the *** going to yield a hearty meal? Is it going to be food
for my soul? Only you know what you want in this empty
***. I can’t add to, or take away from your *** Because it
doesn’t belong to me. I feel like you want to add a piece of
me to your ***. but a part of you is afraid of how the finished
recipe will turn out. How can you be afraid of an empty ***?
Why aren’t you adding your favorite foods to it?
The *** can’t produce empty contents.
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