#sir
Try not to look so confused.
I am not a contradiction.
I am simply proof
that God has an excellent sense of humour
and a taste for paradox.
I am heaven, yes
but not the sort one reaches
without first answering difficult questions.
And I am fire too,
which is only philosophy
with better lighting.
When I love,
men call it grace.
When I speak plainly,
they call it danger.
Curious.
A man may be complex
and they call him profound.
A woman says two true things at once
and suddenly she is a mystery,
a warning,
or worse
“too much.”
But what is philosophy, really,
if not learning to sit calmly
in the presence of contradiction?
And what is a woman,
if not the finest argument
against simple answers?
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 9:08 PM UTC
~a message from Lori Jones McCaffery~
Indeed.
But old g-hosts, familiar and friendly.
À la Casper, are comfy ones, who cozy
with us as need arises, and need
never falls, only rises liked fresh
oven-baked brioche bread, of which
the ghosts do smell, for they well recall
their prior human foibles,
and one be,
a home scented blessed by the smells of
caring…and they bring to us STILL living as
a reminder how lucky we are to be
alive
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 3:24 PM UTC
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!!
By Vedanta Anagha
What I heard was complete silence.
I recently saw a man with no words—
A quiet admirer of this world.
Phone in his left hand,
Pressed gently to his ear,
Standing as if talking to the sky,
Standing as if hearing the heart.
I stood behind him, lost in myself.
My call was full of words,
The air offered soft, gentle love.
I didn’t hear the voice,
I didn’t hear the whispers.
I try to join him in the peaceful crowd.
I try to understand—to hear what silence is about.
He is quiet. He is honest.
My words cut through the edges of recovery.
He gives all of himself to the voice he hears.
What I learned today was just a mistake—
One I make every day.
His calm gaze pierces the world.
His zipped lips speak every truth.
To me, He is now a teacher.
And I call him–
Good Evening, Sir!
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
is a list humming with fraught fragile fragrant delight:
humble
hugging
humility
human
hugely
humor
humdinger
I could go on forever
but no need, the humming infectious
and you are adding you owned version
yes. hu too
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 1:10 PM UTC
THINGKING AM LOST
DROWNED IN THE CORNER......
JUST LEFT-BEHIND
ALONE IN THE DARKESTSIDE....
NO ONE TO TURNED INTO~
MY GRIEF OF SILINCE AND LOST!
YET, HELLO POETRY AWAKES
TO TAKE MY SENSES AND BE FREE....
YOU ARE THIER MATE's
TO WAKKEN's ME UP AND FREE!
TO LET GO!
AND BE FREE AGAIN.
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 10:34 AM UTC
YOU ~
THINK YOUR ARE RICH ENOUHG
REACHING THE SKY
ME~
KNOWING STILL, DEEP THINGS INSIDE
REACHING THE STAR's.
AT THE END's OF THE DAY's
ARE WE, BOTH STILL THINKING A PART?
OR WE ~
NOT THE SAME SAME THINGS IN MINDS!
OF KNOWING OUR TIME!
IN THE SERVICE's OF FAITH,
AND FOR THE FILIPINO's PEOPLE's!
WE BOTH DIE ALONG THE WAY's
THUS, WE BOTH FIND THAT PART.....
OF WHO WE ARE?
A
SPACES BETWEEN US!
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 10:14 AM UTC
This place is a home.
There's a dining room table
I can do my homework on
and a kitchen I can burn down.
This place is still a home
Even though there's nobody
to come home to after a long day's work
or someone to sit and have dinner with.
No, this place will never be a home.
In this house everybody
looks at their phones
instead of their family.
In this house the kids
take their dinner upstairs.
In this house the parents
fight in the middle of the night.
No, this place will never be a home.
This place is just a house
that I just so happen to live in.
Jan 20, 2022
Jan 20, 2022 at 10:24 PM UTC
How did you Know?
How could you see the acrimony before it arrived at my doorstep?
Sir, who are you?
And can you dispatch your soul to my side...
What's that? I hear...You never left my side?
You stand in the shadows...but why? So that you know you are not alone...horseshoe bar...glass of wine in the sunshine...walks and talks and pure visibility...change your costume...so funny it's been a while since black and white...thank you for the music it always makes the difference...my soul DJ 💋you know where to put them...siempre and now more than ever...just haven't met you yet...
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 4:40 PM UTC
No youthful regrets beset
None of that stuff shines to last
I do not, will not
Look back through closed windows without seats of cushioned green, no
A neck is facing forward for a personal fast
And I for the hunger next of dawn
Will taste all that the future holds
Nothing
Will turn
Me back
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 4:42 PM UTC
A beautiful creation
A powerful persuation
Underestimates nation
Build the foundation
In my heart navigation
Hey! You curly haired
The one let the coffee said
I'm warmer than her
Be careful!
Don't get burned sir!
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
The minstrels bello and promenade
Causing youths to parody
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day meh paramour our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
I will burn it into meh mind
The energy of your shape across the horizon
And the heavens beyond
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day mah paramore our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
Flowing with nimbus a bird of pray scours midgaurd
Caught in torrents a mariner catches fleeting glimpses of midgaurd
Bird of prey stiring air the torrents becomes untenable
Inch toward shore and grasp it to understand it's only soil
With the potential of our end millenarian revelations come within our grasp
However faced with dread nightmares and the vastness of time
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
I'd act as your maypole
An utterance to stir your soul
Meh day at your whims
Say we have gone riding into the echos even throughout the lowlands
Within and surrounding the loch
Monoliths reach from the heavens and take root
A parcel yet afore we arrive to bare witness
Honest decades passed now we shall bare witness with joy
In A day meh paramour our party will show and you will know we have arrived at your call
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 11:18 PM UTC
not all **** videos are equal
one searches the index,
hopeful a screenshot
pinpricks the eye and the peculiar
peculiar need of the moment
like most things good and appreciated,
sifting through the chaff is a learned skill,
required but not intuitively sired,
not every new word in the dictionary
delights, insights, triggering a welcome!warning
the sifter’s handle fits the hand uncomfortably,
requiring egregious prodigious turnings,
till the flour is silky and manipulative, ready,
pleasure is work, luster need maintenance
you passover, skippering,
a search for the next and the next,
treasured island is constantly on the move,
it’s coordinates require GPS updating
rerouting rerouting rerouting
what does this reveal about you?
there are no simple single path pleasures,
the first bite delight is ultimately worn down,
recalled but not equally fully restored,
so we need, insistent for new thrill pathways
to get to the same old pleasured places
the body acts, the body’s acts, the body’s reacts
familiarity is a museum collection,
everything human requires updating,
especially essentially by
the imagination’s perpetual swiping
Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 7:53 AM UTC
***** Cat ***** Cat
Want to drink some Milk
Yes Sir, Yes Sir
Three Bowls Full
One for Myself
One for my Kitten
And one for my lazy sister
Who sleep for the day.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 9:43 AM UTC
I was the childlike girl next door for him.
He was a gentleman and the crush of almost all the neighbours.
He never spoke too much so I was never a good listener.
For him I never mattered so much.
But I, like all other neighbours, had a crush on him.
His body never got my focus, but his writings were.
Day by day I fell in love with his unspoken words.
On a rainy day I wanted to express my love,
As because it was his favourite season after all.
Yes, he loved monsoon a lot.
Many neighbours had asked him once,
Why he love monsoon so much?
He never spoke too much, as I have mentioned above.
But he said he will narrate it on a rainy day.
When I went and knocked his door,
His roommate said he had went upstairs.
Greeting him a smiley bye, I went to meet my guy.
Love for him or for his words, I was confused a lot.
But I had already started calling him as my guy.
Silly or stupid or again childlike girl, what he will address me now?
I was wondering and riding towards him.
He was sitting near the terrace door and was writing something.
Hey, hi, Writing some poems I guess Mr....
I was silent for a while.
It didn't bother me anytime, but I realised,
I do not know his name.
*** what a great lover I am,
Without knowing his name I had fallen in love with him.
My heart corrected me this time.
You have fallen in love with his writings and unspoken words and not with him.
I smiled and said to my heart,
May be I have fallen in love with his writings and unspoken words,
But the love for him is pure and real,
And I believe the love for him is also devine.
My conversations with my heart was broken by his touch.
Seeing me lost in my own world,
He had given me a **** on my shoulder and said,
I am a writer so I want to be known by that.
He may have wanted to say something more.
I truly like a bad listener stopped him and said,
Shakespeare had once said,
"What's in a name!"
And being a lover of your writing,
I too want to say,
In name there is no fame
Because fame is there where creativity and innovation resides.
He actually smiled and kissed my forehead,
And then took me to the terrace and said,
When I had come,
The place was new, people were new,
But when I saw you, I felt something not new.
I do not knew by your name but your smile was very much known.
Your smile was like the sunshine which I knew from a time immemorial.
Then were you spoke to me for the first time,
Your words were like the breeze which inspires me to write.
I used to notice when you read my poems after coming home.
Your comments after reading my poems everyday,
Was the best gift for everytime.
And you thought you never mattered so much!
I was happy that you understood my writings more than I had expressed in words.
I am not worried about the answer, I may get now,
But after knowing about your favourite season,
Monsoon became my favourite too.
Without any fear, I want to confess that,
I have fallen in love with the childlike girl who stays nextdoor.
Whatever be your answer,
Just say it keeping the raindrops as our witnesses.
Drenched in rain but my tears were real.
I felt like Monsoon had gifted the best rain that day.
Without any confusion, I hugged my guy.
Many days, months and years had passed since then.
Then what!
He continued with his Writings and unspoken words.
He now goes for world tours,
To spread his unspoken words.
And I?
Being his better half, accompany him everywhere.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
How many songs wrote never known?
How many crescendos
lost to the echo
of merciless Fortune's squealing tired tire?
How many words?
never perturbed
silt beneath the oceanic span
between here and fame's centurion?
How long until god thrusts them into day?
to trace glibly along the interstate
for some passing child to stumble upon
and resonate?
How many bodies
removed of soul
Riddled with bullet and dirt of metal
sank deep into the earth and turned to worms
and protozoa
and chirps
and birds
and grass
and bark
and leaves
and trees
and Pax
Humana
How many greats' fate
Do we forget in our mad scramble
and the many fateful decisions
To save
or burn
Their words
and hands
And let Destiny
or Jesus
or Allah
or Krishna
or Mahayana
Guide their thoughts
to greater heights
Of how much
Have we lost sight?
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
In the audio recording you sent me
An hour of touching yourself
punishment for misbehavior
you giggled and cried at the same time
The "Oh, fuck"'s
"dear, God"'s
They built up inside
screaming for the pain to stop
With a trembling whimper.
"This is fun, but I can't wait 'till it's over"
If only you had said this sooner
In the daylight
We could have known
Time was running out.
We were never so honest
as our ***
Not even to ourselves
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 11:06 AM UTC
*Insane, insane what follows old
This tragedy you're about to be told.
Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
It is love that we most of all bequeath.
Amongst green pastures grows a flowering field
One not tainted by what this life yields.
Somewhere in the withered forget-me-knots
It lives long enough to be what it ought.
A shining prince upon a silver steed
Riding home to find that which was decreed.
Nothing more than just a thought
Of something born here in Camelot.
Oh mastery of misery art thou my friend?
Do we have so much to gather or defend?
Send us upon this grievous plain
To battle for all that must be regained.
Oh ported soul of Arthur’s gallant lot
Send to us the dear Sir Lancelot.
He be the bravest of all hearts,
His bravery known right from the start.
He hast no legend braved in fear
Doing the right by his lady Guinevere.
Life deals us such a broken art
Of a finger painted love here in Camelot.
The quest be of ill fated charms
Where love survives the coat of arms.
To be so brave is to be a slave
Fighting for the thing we crave.
For no coat of arms can delay
Love’s onslaught once on display.
For to pour the grail back into the flask
Would be to hold love as a captured task.
For ‘tis love that captures all at last
And nothing loved can truly pass.
Though the lance laid silent Lover Lancelot
His secret survives him here in Camelot.*
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
Jaimin sir, a kind man, with smile cute,
Prepared for supporting me in lawsuit
Is ready to fight against any odd acute;
Managing school and university with astute.
In the premises everyone does salute!
Revered for his perseverance which dilute
All miseries, anxieties and commute
Joyfully with him in leisure to compute
Your mistakes and victories that overshoot.
All liked him for his ability to refute.
Grumped man speaks cool like flute
Under omnipresence, one who does hoot
Ruins his own impression and does salute;
Unacceptable people do get execute
Surely; teachers like me are with parachute
Inspired by him to remove Prafulla persecute,
Remove such drastic elements for institute.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 7:57 AM UTC
My Principal is forever ready to explore
New things from students who implore
And set a new goal for them to outscore
In their own life. He is ready to restore
Intellect and discipline in school therefore
Stands out and administers students’ footsore.
Cherian sir the one who is fighting war
Against anxiety and worry on door,
Which pester children and occasionally gore
Their morale and self-esteem. They spoor
Away from study which he sojourns before
They reach to larger extent and be cocksure.
Never he criticizes without any reason poor,
As he is a positive thinker. All of us roar
Which is pacified by him but for sure.
He is the man of principles and decor
Whose blessings on all of us ever pour.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:42 AM UTC
my naked morning
stretch
captured
within warm arms
my skin
cherished
in morning kisses
sleepy smiles
greet the sunshine
her skin
warm
fragrant
mine
soft
delicate
his
steel
under velvet
his pleasures
become ours
seeking his need
hearing his want
soft lips
sharing
our morning love
gently waking
from his deep slumber
we devour
with helter skelter kisses
silken
warm
shamelessly given
is our feast
loving
breakfast
in bed
for three
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
How to be a great tweaker
1) Go get some drugs
2) Don't take them yet
3) Go get some tweaker friends
4) Go get some snacks and take a shower
5) Put on clean clothes
6) Go to a tweaker friend
7) Give them the drugs
8) Walk over to a light post
9) Give it one dollar
10) Go eat that food
THE END.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC