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Simon Jul 2020
Timing is everything when you aren’t certainly prepared to strike down your own advances in the face of extreme fun! Because fun (on the other hand) can’t and will not strike fun at the advances (that is your own product). Only to have (“timing is everything”) shrivel up and die! Except that doesn’t make any sense to have one or the other act as a simple countermeasure conjoin up with an interconnecting way of making things (all the better). But it’s already been like that too begin with! Someone once said as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. An echo that doesn’t have any priority to offer itself, except for the many occasions of seemingly never-ending “reverberations” that rebound off an endless process meant to coincide with something more important then itself. (“Itself”) … As in a very lonesome echo that keeps “broadcasting” every chance it could get its own “echo processing” hands on! That is if it’s not already of the “correct sorts” to measure such a claim. (Since a something can’t be seemingly claimed if not for a desire not having its own identity to bear!) For it simply trying to claim something (only to get it right the first time) is only but a fashionable illusion made to show that once something only seemingly happened once… It actually had been going on for an “infinite” amount of time without any specifications for how long it could have lasted? Or how long it’s very “reverberating transmissions” (and the effects surrounding it) would essentially last for? There was never an essential answer to this very question. Since questions aren’t in the correct sorts either, when trying to come to terms with an answer that demanded essential “answers” (right off the bat) in order to carry on forward. True…true…true…. The (someone) again once said, as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. How many was that…? And how many times did it resort to acting out in the best interests of something other then itself? The narration of this very passage “ticks” momentarily, as if to really “access” any of what this lonesome echo broadcasting mindlessly was “babbling” about?! When the narration did eventually come to terms about what its own “accessing” safely filtered out in the open for (all to see…not just in itself), it was confused (more then EVER)! What information it simply found out, was about how the lonesome echo repeatedly broadcasted something too many times that of course (it was not seemingly aware of…at first). Because even if it was, it certainly wasn’t caring of the repercussions bending the very instances that are (all the sudden) too alert to take…certainly lightly. Just as the narration of this very passage once took this all to heart (once upon a time ago). (If only for just a single moment). Not long after when it revealed that these very reverberating transmissions were in fact bending the very behavior of this once lonesome echo. And as if the narration hadn’t already been ticking it’s very “accessing protocols” together, revealing also another profound secret piece of information. Is that this all took place long in the past. Showing these very reverberating transmissions were the result of an overly prolonged exposure to something finally catching up too itself. Can you essentially guess what that very (something) was who finally was catching up too itself…? If you did, great! But remember this, as it’s VERY important (so to speak) …. Cast logic completely aside for only just another overly prolonged (“exposure” of a moment) having possibly been the size of another “infinite” lonesome echo broadcasting wildly! (Not to mention fusing its mindless behavior together as one!) You’d (all the sudden) get a random “alerting call” from that very someone who was essentially reaching out with tons and tons of echo’s in order to (not just make a “too long of a point”) when they essentially were only doing it for fun. Except for the fact the lonesome echo was essentially losing itself one reverberating transmission at a time. Strongly revealing another piece of the puzzle…. That it wasn’t just losing itself throughout its own “reaching out” protocol. But simply trying to keep up with its own alerting call it kept casting judgement on in order to simulate some “twisting fate” together. A twisting fate that it initiated together (in it’s reaching out protocol) as “timing is everything”!
Fun isn’t within the priority of itself. Just as someone once said about themselves “once upon a time ago” for being essentially narrated for their very own safety. (Even if it at the time again, “once upon a time ago” was for their good!) Only to have the essential name of this very passage mock itself time and time…again!
uv Apr 2020
A book
Turns its pages
With a soft gentle stir
The flip of the edges
And the sounds that murmur

The stories
Unfolds its mysteries
Reciting the weight of its words
The stops and the lapses
Add intrigue to their worlds.

The end
Like's to be chased down
By overzealous beginnings
The length of the passage
Is the story of the innings
the door creeks

"Ah, I've been waiting it for weeks."

"It's surely the Reaper, the final undertaker."

waiting for nothing

"Maybe, he has another job. The door creeked, but he sent one of his helldog to do the job."

the void avoids my thoughts

"Hellhound or a fluffy bunny, stop me feeling so moody."

"Somebody, take my thoughts and take me voice. Not to feel more sore."


Anand Prakasque Jul 2019
the more you're attached to your narration of life,
the more you are missing the comprehension;
which indeed can't ever be contained or explained.
we are the derivative of energies and ****** up chunk of proteins, which doesn't want to be a part of anything else but you. '

you're the biggest cover to keep and you're the biggest secret to reveal, to not the very world but very self of yours.'
that's the fixture you do with narration, you never hold it; you give up on it but what you can learn is the comprehension.
Karol Apr 2019
Let me tell you about him
He is so temptingly gorgeous
I linger to stay in his arms

Let me sing about his voice
A chorus about the way he’s laughter brights the whole room

I can even write a poem about his scorching brown eyes
An own verse  for that smile that can melt the moon and bring the sun to his feet

We can talk about the dreamy boy that might be a illusion
You can only touch for a moment cause it will disappear
Something you taste once and then never again
A pleasure of heaven life gives you for a instant

If it wasn’t for my letters he will fade in time
But it will be a sin not to give the privilege of eternity to such a pretty soul
“I’m in love with Tyler Durden.Thats why this **** ain’t never working for me,I’m in love with a fantasy”
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2019
सुनाताहु मे अब, एक घरकी कहानी —२
जिन्दगीने किया, कैसे छेड्खानी

हस्ता, चेहरा हे उसका, दिलमे दर्द हे पुरानी
लगाहे आग मनमे, कोइतो पिलाव थोडा पानी
प्यार देकर बढ्ता हे , कभी कम नही होता
दर्द सुनाकर दिल रोता हे, आसुव का दासता —२

सुनाताहु मे अब, एक घरकी कहानी
जिन्दगीने किया, कैसे छेड्खानी

ऋतु आएँ, अाँख आगे, नआया, उसके अपने
नइ पत्ते, लगा पेढँपे, नआया, उसमे मौसमे
खुशी कोइ रंगमे नही आता हरघडी सामने
बन्द किए पल्कँे, उघरते नही सुनके बात, प्यारके —२

सुनाताहु मे अब एक घरकी कहानी
जिन्दगीने किया कैसे छेड्खानी
Genre: Gazal
Theme: Story Of Pain || Narration
Anya Oct 2018
Category 2,
not too bad...
Swirling, whirling
Pounding, hounding
Rolling, Spinning

Category 3...
Freight train,
coming from every direction
Major, but nothing new

Just an hour
Hold on,
We'll pull through

Pressure suddenly
Ears constantly

Category 4,
Too late
My father's sharp

Pieces of homes
ripped off like flakes of skin
Leaving the ground barren
Only the bear bones
possibly remaining
Till they too,
are forcefully wrenched

A majestic structure,
now reduced
to *******

Mother nature
hurling trees
in her

of seconds

The roar
mirroring the one,
in my head-telling me to

The world...
a symphony
of rage, ferocity, passion
Violent reds,
splotches of
orange and fuchsia
I unfortunately,
trapped within
As the clashes and roars
Waves and cutting wind
Swirl around me, I wonder,
is this,
what an insect feels like,
stuck in a washing machine?

Come to bed,
my father calls
I go,
to the pillows and covers
that should be warm and soft,
but to my touch,
appear frigid

My eyeballs
practically popping
until at
some unknown time,
they shut
and I



Sunlight streams in,
A dream?
Oh, if only...

Unable to contain the hope,
I leap up to my window-      And freeze

not trees,
not homes,
not anything
Just a mass of objects rendered useless and stamped with the label of
My father says,
No more running water

My neighbor's little blue
in shambles

as I step outside
After what seems,
like a long arduous battle
I was an unlucky
caught in the middle

Despite the
churning feeling
in my stomach          The broken battered *******,
the ruined property       The, miserableness
Of the situation

But then again...
As my father,
Thanks the Lord
My mind,
is blown away
As I stand,
In awe
as my eyes take in the majesty
of those few,
hundred year old houses
still standing
To clarify-I was not in hurricane Michael, this is only my attempts at imagining what happened coupled with you-tube videos.
Anya Oct 2018
I just realized,
I have a painting of
A pineapple
In my room
Made by
Yours truly

I have a pineapple
Hat bought on a whim
At Walmart
Last year

I have a newly bought
Because of
The sheer

I nearly googled pineapple
I used to watch Sponge Bob
(For those of you who don’t know, he lives in a pineapple)
I don’t even eat pineapples that much
What’s going on?
I think multiple
Sets of coincidences
Became a serious
But I don’t have a pineapple obsession!
Do I?
Possible weird, mildly worrying obsession of your own? Feel free to comment!
Anya Sep 2018
I'm not saying
that this is how it is
In all my years of school
the one thing I've been taught
is the American Revolutionary war

Which makes sense
it was technically the official formation
of the country I currently live in

But really,
In 10th grade
I'm having deja-vu back
to fourth grade
when we even had a musical
about it
(I was student #2 by the way)

And now
we have the Broadway musical Alexander Hamilton
I am TOTALLY a fan of
the numerous reoccurring themes
I've had stuck in my face
enough to remember
for the
So, Revolutionary War:

Okay, I don't know if you actually
got anything from that
but basically
it was a rushed (sort of) summaryish
of the American Revolutionary war

Well, I mean I've only learned
about it from one side

Anyway, by now I almost know the facts
we learn in school here
as well
as the back of my hand
which I don't know very well by the way
why do people even use that?

Anyway, it's not completely old material
that we're learning
there's analyzing too

Just today we analyzed the differences
and Anti-federalists
you probably don't want the
nitty-gritty details
And that concludes my
tirade/(I can't really call it a tirade because it wasn't angry
so maybe narration?)
About history class
Hope this quirky
piece of writing
gave you a few smiles!

(Or if not confusion works too.)
In all honesty I started this as a valid poem but my strange mood made it spiral seriously off track.
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