I read it in a book today that really caught my eye,
it said "to climb you have to rhyme" and that stuck in my mind.

That phrase, the catch, the maze that hatched,
I can't think of anythings else!
Get out the dictionary! A new order must be dealt!

This poem started as an untitled draft with only the words:
"I didn't mean to say the worst thing at the right time."
Then I ended up rewriting and changing the whole thing.

Hang on, hold on...
...we get the fiddle out,

Now the old Ban-jo...
here comes it now,
clap tune with us...

America went in the can when Hollywood then brought-in,
The good feelings sneakin' 'round as Old Times never for-got-ten.
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!

Real T.V. got your goat as poli-ticks snake your vote,
I guess that's how, guess what's now, -rock that boat!
LOOK AWAY! LOOK AWAY! T.V. keepin' Dixie!

Take a knee you N-F-L, NBA you go to Hell!
Still not same, as Me 'n Me, with money, life is swell!
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!

Demo-cracy was thrown a hand, when Dixieland lost it's stand,
Oh live and die for T.V.

Keep your eyes down now, -boy don't look around...
...Our way, -T.V. -is Dixie!

HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!

Gotten out? The Great Gar-den? Then we shot your Mar-tin.
And ole Jay Z we'll mow him down, every time he hits our town,
oh you'll see, catch a grave, as God T.V. keep y'all a slave!
Not the same, as Me n' Me, in spite of all your New money!
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!

HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!
HOORAY! HOORAY! America, still Dixie!

Remake of the Dixie tune for modern times. It must have been hilarious to see people dancing and clapping to this tune as it appears to be made in jest to mock racists.

So confident when signing up for it.
So comfortable once in.
So awkward when outside the door.
Am I the me who wants to be in?

On the fly

This globalised English language
really has got the lot
a mix of multiple origins
in a linguistic melting pot

Romans, Vikings, Angles & Saxons
native Britons tongue disolved
William conquered for Normans
contemporary English evolved

Exported across the planet
through Africa and North America
various regions of Asia
with convicts to Australia

The language of the settler
history may view as invader
the raided native Britons
became an overseas raider

First language English speakers
with innumerable dialects and accents
some inner city British delivery
to outsiders makes no sense

Written English historically works best
it's rhythm and rhyme scans so well
other languages have many beauties
but for poetry it rings our bell

*Australian friends.  The convict line is just a line from history, no offence intended. Thank you.

The daughter of the moon and I
Fell from the stars
And crashed into a lonely lake
Where she would spend all of her days
Forsaking all others
Except for this
The wielder of the sword to be
To rule the world
By his own outstretched hand


Eventually you forget how to escape
To open the door at the back of your mind
And walk on though it
Into the new
And that is why we should value our innocence
And our children in such a way as we do

I was speaking of imagination...

driving late night
moon low, lookin like a street light
slow down, got some red lights
caterpillars growing up and startin to take flight
hand on your hand got me feelin right
and gos, the feelins so fuckin tight
thinking about your lips how i bite
when we're drivin late night.

and you've got this glow.
this halo
around you.
and my eyes should be on the road
but god knows, I can't control myself.
like wanting to taste the lemon
when i've got theses cuts on my tongue.
like gasping for air
when the room feels too tight
and all these fuckin feelings
and we're just
driving late night

i wrote this in my head while driving my love around late at night until the early morning.
Dori 7d

I’ve only known darkness,

never the light.
I’ve been surrounded by shadows that have blurred my sight.
I can still picture their faces,

red eyes and all.
But today I’m the light at the end of
hells hall.

Shofi Ahmed Sep 18

A slice of the Moon flanked
by a pair of moonlights.
And a butterfly pair basks
in the sunlight.

You and me too,
we will rhyme and sing
simply in mother tongue.
In the good old original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks and all
Angels listen in paradise’.

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