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Dylan McFadden Feb 2020
We waited – waited – waited…
For that which
We knew

Just killed the time till killing time…
With small and

We seemed to ride upon a dream…
That faded with
Slow with

And in the end, the curtains closed…
Without a

TIZZOP Dec 2019 a purple curtain

behind this curtain
is your flesh

behind your flesh
is your ego

behind your ego is the real you
we've been on a journey
like grandpa and grandmom
take me away
take me to the place of the real you
why do we always desire what we don't have?
why do we want to be somebody else?



Waktu panorama nyata cerah merona
Aku termenung dungu
Malu, cemas tak pernah begini
Atau entah pernah namun kulupa

Kala aku berlari menuju hilang
Cerah itu muncul, kupikir selesai semua
Berpapasan sosokmu, membelai pipimu
Ku tak becus
Yang terasa dijiwa makin bermakna
yang ada dihati makin berarti

Tak harap lebih berjumpa denganmu
Atau dirumah kita nanti
Rasa cintamu sudah cukup
Terima kasih

Buatmu, 2017.
Samuel itu bukan pacarku, dari dulu aku bermimpi ingin memiliki pacar bernama samuel wkwk
You're my lucky charm,
Silver locket,
Heather in my pocket.

The twist of fingers,
For a promise,
A love so pure, forever honest.
Said The Raven
To The Raven
Which Raven are you?

I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

And I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Edgar Allan Poe.

Apparently there's a rave on -
Shall we go?

Yes - let us go then you and I
As the evening is spread out
Against the sky.

But not like a patient
Etherised upon a table.

Let us like Thunderbirds
Not gentle go into this dark night.

So dressed in sable
White gloves
And whistles
They went on their way -
Not looking forward
To conversations about
Michelangelo at all.

For as we all know
Old age should rave and burn
At close of day.
And not just fizzle out.

More big shout...........................................

And rave until you fall.
Both Edgar Allan Poe and Samuel Taylor Coleridge did both write poems called The Raven. The latter's is one of the most dispiriting and disconcerting pieces of vindictive revenge in the English language.T S Eliot and Dylan Thomas did write poems called The Love Song of J Alfred Purfrock and Do Not Gentle Go Into That Good Night respectively and lines from both poems appear here in various guises. If you know niether both would make most anthologies of 20th century poetry.

And honestly white gloves and whistles were common on the rave scene in the early days.
Years later
Bathsheba's psychiatrist
Was analysing the tryst
Between King David
And her.

It was no tryst
Said she.
What a slur.
He was a ******
And an opportunist.

An amoeba would concur
Said the psychiatrist
That a shower screen
And being more demure
Would have been
Quite spiritually enterprising.

You cannot expect
Kind David to desist
From objectifying your femurs
And a cracking pair of amethysts.

Don't treat me
Like some calculating
Hormone Exchange Unit
You sexist misogynist.

You are not fit
To analyse me.

You say your name's Freud
But you're wholly devoid
Of any insight
Of what is amiss
Or my troubles might be.

Not one piece of grit
Have you put in my oyster.
You obsequious churl
I'm a girl you don't mess with.

I could have you hung.

But instead she dismissed him
and booked an appointment
With a certain professor
Who went by the name of
Carl Gustav Jung.
Based on a story in the bible about a woman called Bathsheba who was spied on by King David whilst bathing on her roof. David ended up with her after having her husband killed off. She ended up with his stillborn child.

— The End —