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"aaah" poems
I wear beads and  African bracelets for beauty. I forget why the people before me wore them. I wear them with pride not because I earned them but because I simply look beautiful. Beautiful!? What does that even mean? My Nana has scars on her body. She shows them to me with pride. Narrates stories of the war in the past like an action movie only she didn't have a gun only bows and poisonous arrows. The missing teeth in her mouth causes her to spit almost every second she talks. But this embarrassment is only felt by me. She is proud of the hole in her mouth. Suddenly I feel the urge to remove my African beads. They have no meaning only that they are African and I am and so am entitled. But I have done nothing for my heritage. Not even fight for it. Slowly it's being forgotten and people are crossing over without a care in the world. 'To civilisation' we say.  'For the good of the people' we say. But is it? We were a community wrong as we were to circumcise women, marry them off at an early age, burn the wrong... We were a community. We loved each other. We cared. We taught our children how to feel and be the earth. We taught our children to respect the earth and in return the earth blesses us with herbs to cure. What did they call it? Aaah yes 'witchcraft'. We were not animals who forget their children in  pit latrines or by the river side just because we cannot afford them or don't want them. We cared not of individualism because together we grew in spirit, body and soul. It was not backward it was culture. And culture is flexible. It can change but can never be terminated. It is not a shoe that when you grow out of  you throw and buy another. And so I am not telling you to go back to your roots because if am quite honest you were never in it. Rather embrace it. See how 'civilised' you will feel then. yours The Red_Head
0
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
Conscious beads.
I wear beads and  African bracelets for beauty. I forget why the people before me wore them. I wear them with pride not because I earned them but because I simply look beautiful. Beautiful!? What does that even mean? My Nana has scars on her body. She shows them to me with pride. Narrates stories of the war in the past like an action movie only she didn't have a gun only bows and poisonous arrows. The missing teeth in her mouth causes her to spit almost every second she talks. But this embarrassment is only felt by me. She is proud of the hole in her mouth. Suddenly I feel the urge to remove my African beads. They have no meaning only that they are African and I am and so am entitled. But I have done nothing for my heritage. Not even fight for it. Slowly it's being forgotten and people are crossing over without a care in the world. 'To civilisation' we say.  'For the good of the people' we say. But is it? We were a community wrong as we were to circumcise women, marry them off at an early age, burn the wrong... We were a community. We loved each other. We cared. We taught our children how to feel and be the earth. We taught our children to respect the earth and in return the earth blesses us with herbs to cure. What did they call it? Aaah yes 'witchcraft'. We were not animals who forget their children in  pit latrines or by the river side just because we cannot afford them or don't want them. We cared not of individualism because together we grew in spirit, body and soul. It was not backward it was culture. And culture is flexible. It can change but can never be terminated. It is not a shoe that when you grow out of  you throw and buy another. And so I am not telling you to go back to your roots because if am quite honest you were never in it. Rather embrace it. See how 'civilised' you will feel then. yours The Red_Head
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4
The talks that we had the smiles and the laughter sigh... I missed 'em. You're a shooting star wish you're not just a shooting star. Sleepless nights and morning hi's sigh... I missed 'em. You're a shooting star wish you're not just a shooting star. aaah sigh... but you really made me smile!
0
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 8:04 PM UTC
Shooting Star
Imperialistic meddlers, men of power greed and wealth Western Imperialism not too long ago was once put on the shelf Not too long ago this name was never heard Its name is New Order of DiSoRdEr But still us folk of sanity with eyes wide open we see their compliance lock-step herd vanity In White House spin gone amuck they throw their bolts of anger to all countries on the globe And with more and more displeasure we witness their destructiveness from sea to shining sea But now I hear, see and feel a distant faint rumbling the rising Valorous the rumbling stampeding of democracy by the forceful rightful anger, the free-spirited valiant word a word of truth and dignity, the echo of today, and aaah yes to hear the thundering of the mass To hear the thundering of the mass...
0
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
To hear the thundering of the Mass
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮ Spongy semolina cake toothsome lemon kiss rich, orange-blossom syrup gold-kissed and fragrant So buttery sweet cinnamon Aaah! ╰⊰✿⊱╮
0
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 12:16 PM UTC
╰⊰✿ ́Revani'✿⊱╮
Instagram Anak: Tay, ano po iyong ingles ng gramo? Tatay: Gram, anak. Anak: E 'yong kilogramo po? Tatay: Kilogram, anak. Anak: May relasyon po ba ang gramo sa kilogram? Nanay: anak ng kilogram ang gramo, anak. Anak: Aaah! Ganun po ba? E 'yong tinatawag na instagram po? Nanay: Madali lang iyan, anak. Ang tanong mo ba ay kung magkadugo sila? Anak: Tumango ang anak. Nanay: Ang instagram ay lolo ng gramo at tatay ng kilogramo. Tatay: Umalis ka nga sa harapan ng anak mo. Na-bo-bobo ako sa iyo e. Dinadamay mo pa anak mo.
0
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
Instagram
I've Been Waiting So long, I've been looking too hard, I've waiting too long Sometimes I don't know what I will find I only know it's a matter of time When you love someone... When you love someone... It feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too (Aaah-aaah) maybe I'm wrong (Aaah-aaah) won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong? (Aaah-aaah) this heart of mine has been hurt before (Aaah-aaah) this time I wanna be sure I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Ooh-ooh-ooh) to come into my life (life) I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) and a love that will survive I've been waiting (I've been waiting) for someone new (New) To make me feel alive, ah-ah Yeah, waiting for a girl like you (waiting for a girl) to come into my life (Aaah-aaah... Aaah-aaah...) You're so good, when we make love it's understood It's more than a touch or a word we say Only in dreams could it be this way When you love someone... Yeah, really love someone... (Aaah-aaah) now I know it's right (Aaah-aaah) from the moment I wake up till deep in the night (Aaah-aaah) there's no where on earth that I'd rather be (Aaah-aaah) than holding you, tenderly I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Ooh-ooh-ooh) To come into my life (life) I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) and a love that will survive I've been waiting (I've been waiting) for someone new (New) To make me feel alive, ah-ah Yeah, waiting (waiting) for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) to come into my life Oooh-oooh, oooh-oooh, I've been waiting Aaah-aaah, (waiting for you) oooh-oooh, oooh (Aaah-aaah) oooh-oooh, I've been waiting (Waiting) I've been waiting, yeah I've been waiting for a girl like you, I've been waiting Won't you come into my life? (Life?) My life? (It's been so long) I've been waiting for a girl like you I've been waiting, (I've been waiting) oh-oh Foreigner
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
I've Been Waiting
I've Been Waiting So long, I've been looking too hard, I've waiting too long Sometimes I don't know what I will find I only know it's a matter of time When you love someone... When you love someone... It feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too (Aaah-aaah) maybe I'm wrong (Aaah-aaah) won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong? (Aaah-aaah) this heart of mine has been hurt before (Aaah-aaah) this time I wanna be sure I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Ooh-ooh-ooh) to come into my life (life) I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) and a love that will survive I've been waiting (I've been waiting) for someone new (New) To make me feel alive, ah-ah Yeah, waiting for a girl like you (waiting for a girl) to come into my life (Aaah-aaah... Aaah-aaah...) You're so good, when we make love it's understood It's more than a touch or a word we say Only in dreams could it be this way When you love someone... Yeah, really love someone... (Aaah-aaah) now I know it's right (Aaah-aaah) from the moment I wake up till deep in the night (Aaah-aaah) there's no where on earth that I'd rather be (Aaah-aaah) than holding you, tenderly I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Ooh-ooh-ooh) To come into my life (life) I've been waiting, for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) and a love that will survive I've been waiting (I've been waiting) for someone new (New) To make me feel alive, ah-ah Yeah, waiting (waiting) for a girl like you (Waiting for a girl) to come into my life Oooh-oooh, oooh-oooh, I've been waiting Aaah-aaah, (waiting for you) oooh-oooh, oooh (Aaah-aaah) oooh-oooh, I've been waiting (Waiting) I've been waiting, yeah I've been waiting for a girl like you, I've been waiting Won't you come into my life? (Life?) My life? (It's been so long) I've been waiting for a girl like you I've been waiting, (I've been waiting) oh-oh Foreigner
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43
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮ Deliciously sweet street treat From dough unsweetened Usually long, thin or thick Deep fried, golden-brown Sprinkled with sugar mixed with cinnamon Chocolate dip Aaah! ╰⊰✿⊱╮
0
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC
╰⊰✿ ́Churros'✿⊱╮
The night sky lights up in a colourful array of blues, reds, yellows, greens. Spectators ooo and aaah over the display. Loud bangs makes the little children flinch and squeal in delight. Making memories with friends and family on these warm nights. Plenty of food in the coolers and the kitchen to share Board games on the table and lawn games on the grass to play. Fireflies twinkling and dancing on the front lawn at twilight. Campfires red and orange flicker softly in the dark, warming the coldest of feet those nights. Stories are passed on from generation to generation, and silly campfire tunes are sung and danced. It's summer time; ice pops to be eaten, laughs to be exclaimed, photos to be taken, friendships to be formed, and all-nighters to be pulled. It's summertime, yes, it's summertime.
0
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
It's Summertime
Musical night chants in summer night a calling in stilled darkness An impending scattered thought soothed by the nightingale Reflection in a cool reverie as the great earth-shadow stretches in abundance The body caressed by moonbeams dances the rhythm, and the rhythm flows upon another; a time to stroke and embrace the eternal night passion Participation of the Venus ritual involving heated flesh, sweet, sweaty smell of pleasure entwined excitement in a ****** chorus of Nirvana And the final falling limp relaxation of the aaah wow...
0
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
A summer night rythm
He took issue with the small gestures in life. The birthday message from a friend not seen in a decade, the idol chit chat that filled the cafe's, cinema's and other such places, proclaiming them fraudulent unthinking habit, a motion with no true sentiment and in return the followers of such social constructs took issue with him - or worse, pitied him. He despised most human interaction because of this. Often being told that he 'rubbed people up the wrong way' or was 'too antagonistic' He just saw this as another excuse to expel him from the group (whatever that group was) All because he didn't partake in the usual social etiquette and fakery of the masses- this view only led to him being mocked further and neatly labelled as a stroppy, teenage rebel. His thoughts and voice cut down with replies of "Aaah stop feeling sorry for yourself!" "Stop going on about it!" " You're soo negative!" Because in all honesty nobody wants to be around a down in the dumps, killjoy, party pooper right? He could find no solace in the little things nor understanding in the greater questions of life, so he drifted along. Bitter onlooker to a species so separate from his own. Desperate to somehow integrate into their ranks but convincing himself that such thoughts were mere acts of desperation. And he was a desperate young man, desperate and despairing at his separation from the world and all others in it. Yet admittance to such feeling would rarely depart his form. No, he would mock and ogle at them from afar. He would rather be Outcast than Cast Out.
0
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Andre 3000 ain't the only OutKast (Andre Nalin)
He took issue with the small gestures in life. The birthday message from a friend not seen in a decade, the idol chit chat that filled the cafe's, cinema's and other such places, proclaiming them fraudulent unthinking habit, a motion with no true sentiment and in return the followers of such social constructs took issue with him - or worse, pitied him. He despised most human interaction because of this. Often being told that he 'rubbed people up the wrong way' or was 'too antagonistic' He just saw this as another excuse to expel him from the group (whatever that group was) All because he didn't partake in the usual social etiquette and fakery of the masses- this view only led to him being mocked further and neatly labelled as a stroppy, teenage rebel. His thoughts and voice cut down with replies of "Aaah stop feeling sorry for yourself!" "Stop going on about it!" " You're soo negative!" Because in all honesty nobody wants to be around a down in the dumps, killjoy, party pooper right? He could find no solace in the little things nor understanding in the greater questions of life, so he drifted along. Bitter onlooker to a species so separate from his own. Desperate to somehow integrate into their ranks but convincing himself that such thoughts were mere acts of desperation. And he was a desperate young man, desperate and despairing at his separation from the world and all others in it. Yet admittance to such feeling would rarely depart his form. No, he would mock and ogle at them from afar. He would rather be Outcast than Cast Out.
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5
i am ******* dying to be something other than a ***** hiding from her own shadow, twisting herself up in senseless wants maybe if i tattoo my skin or gauge my earlobes or pierce my nose or wear band t-shirts no one's heard of or go to shows and head bang alone, then, yes, then, i will be unique, oh **** there's a tumblr for that, actually, there are a thousand tumblrs for that, moving on... how about i try wearing black and hiding from the light, pulling away until i only come out at night, speaking to no one but the notebook i carry everywhere with me, ah, **** that's been done too here, here, how about this, i'll enter the mainstream, get my degree, even work a job from seven to three, marry a **** bag with no sense of life, have some kids, and pretend i take joy in being a wife, and then, when i'm having his colleagues over for dinner, i'll lose it and **** them all with a butcher knife as i backflip over our ten thousand dollar dining room set they'll oooh and aaah, and somehow forget, that i'm ending their mediocrity, instead they'll think, what yoga studio did she join? her legs are so much more defined than mine and as they all lay bleeding out over their steak tartar, i will smile and smooth my perfect blonde hair, and wait to join the leagues of the unforgettable
0
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 2:00 PM UTC
even psychos have american dreams
.*thank god the English girls were into Pakistani boys... i'm literally off the hook... not that i was expecting to bang one of their hoards of spending outside a male sensibility of earning money... thank god i can double up with not being circumcised.... phew... uninhibited listening sessions to early Madonna, like some Duran Duran fetish... make-over death-metal... bass, man, the bass! the 80s snared the mark... woah woe... oh woah... so is there something to be bothered about? no? wh'aaah don't you use it... wh'ah'ah'ah'ah'ah... this is the part where i pretend to give a **** right? so i basically get to **** an oyster or a chattering clam? which one is which one is where i get reminded that i originate from eastern Europe, whereby eastern, Europe, is around the Urals, knee deep in **** in Russia? Copernican antithesis or something?! oh, don't let me down... i'm trying to get into the groove... you have your commonwealth fetish party, i'm the damaged goods guy... i'm the guy who'd make a great dog-leash companion but a ****** father.... well... don't know about a father, more like a ****** boyfriend... thank **** i'm not the sort to mind myself as: the desired goods; it's like... holiday... for 71 years; give or take; **** if i was the person, deluded, about fulfilling the role of a partner... no... that was never going to work... i'm out... the end... a big NO NO... i'm ******* listening to Duran Duran... if i had a girlfriend, she'd be in her late 40s for fuck's sake!* not a lot of birch trees in western europe, eh? plenty of oak filled forests... not many pine tree forests? sure...                        east meets west; back east an oak tree was... UNESCO...                 western Europe... not so many pines... are there?         don't lie... i know there aren't... and there aren't as many marshlands...     with marsh reeds.... in western Europe... the air is variant in terms of the perfumery... but sure as **** a lack of birch treets... and certainly the oak overcomes the pine tree in terms of counted density.
0
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
eastern europe
.*thank god the English girls were into Pakistani boys... i'm literally off the hook... not that i was expecting to bang one of their hoards of spending outside a male sensibility of earning money... thank god i can double up with not being circumcised.... phew... uninhibited listening sessions to early Madonna, like some Duran Duran fetish... make-over death-metal... bass, man, the bass! the 80s snared the mark... woah woe... oh woah... so is there something to be bothered about? no? wh'aaah don't you use it... wh'ah'ah'ah'ah'ah... this is the part where i pretend to give a **** right? so i basically get to **** an oyster or a chattering clam? which one is which one is where i get reminded that i originate from eastern Europe, whereby eastern, Europe, is around the Urals, knee deep in **** in Russia? Copernican antithesis or something?! oh, don't let me down... i'm trying to get into the groove... you have your commonwealth fetish party, i'm the damaged goods guy... i'm the guy who'd make a great dog-leash companion but a ****** father.... well... don't know about a father, more like a ****** boyfriend... thank **** i'm not the sort to mind myself as: the desired goods; it's like... holiday... for 71 years; give or take; **** if i was the person, deluded, about fulfilling the role of a partner... no... that was never going to work... i'm out... the end... a big NO NO... i'm ******* listening to Duran Duran... if i had a girlfriend, she'd be in her late 40s for fuck's sake!* not a lot of birch trees in western europe, eh? plenty of oak filled forests... not many pine tree forests? sure...                        east meets west; back east an oak tree was... UNESCO...                 western Europe... not so many pines... are there?         don't lie... i know there aren't... and there aren't as many marshlands...     with marsh reeds.... in western Europe... the air is variant in terms of the perfumery... but sure as **** a lack of birch treets... and certainly the oak overcomes the pine tree in terms of counted density.
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25
she always make the first cup, for the pleasure of pleasuring is but another love poem in disguise, she, a prolific writer in dance, in her own right nights never enough milk, yet never tell, nonetheless, my lips loud kiss each other the exhaled aaah can be heard just far enough, to reach her kitchened, richened ears who enjoys more that first cuppa, she or me, is a debate reinvigorated daily, the judges remain secluded, happily refusing to a verdict issue, necessitating a new trial, no mock this one, for it is a daily-born creation a Hawaiian java creamery of just another love poem 5/13/17 7:24am
0
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
she always make the first cup
Rhythmically Pulsing, Unfailingly Beating, Tirelessly Pumping, It doesn't until last rest... It doesn't rest until last... The "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag", The "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom", The "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep", It doesn't get tired normally... It doesn't normally get tired... The heart-ache happens, Aaah-aah-aah-aah-aah..!! Tired-old rig starts failing, The fading "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag", The failing "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom", The fainting "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep", The pain then subsides to either of the two... Either it can take a loan of few more years or.. It halts ultimately to relieve itself & the bearer.
0
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
The Functional Unit
Aaaa aaaa aaah… Little Claire’s last words before she went Turned phantom, lost forever from the touchable world I know her as the ghost who hides in the kitchen cabinets, Haunting our tea saucers, And other good china… Unable to cross over that fine river Searching, incomplete, she is Unsatisfied in some way If only she could remember why I am forgetful too Mother is mad at me I didn’t dust the cabinet linings Like she asked But Claire is so grateful, because I forgot Just long enough, for the dust to Gather What she left unfinished, A simple sneeze, She really didn’t have a clue. Finally… Choo! No more unfinished business. God bless you, Claire.
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
Unfinished 3/24/13
Chini ya mnazi bandarini Kumbukumbu ndizo zilizobakia tu Kunizinguka akilini Huba lako kulikosa Yaumiza moyoni Upepo kutoka baharini Tulipoketi ukininong'onezea Sikioni kwamba ni mimi tu Kwamba utanipenda Tukichora zetu mchangani Aaah, nyakati za raha hizo! Ukaniliwaza mtima Tukapanga mipango ya milele Nabakia kutafuna utamu Wa kumbukumbu tu Chini ya mnazi bandarini Nikilemewa maradhi ya moyo Filamu ya huba letu akilini Tukicheza ufukoni Penzi ndio madini ninayokosa mwilini Kama kosa ni langu najuta Usinkwepe rejea nakwita Nitakuenzi nikutunze almasi Tulitwae tunda la penzi nawe Tulichovye buyu la asali Wengine waone kijicho Tupendane tena Chini ya mnazi bandarini
0
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 3:07 AM UTC
Rejea Mpenzi
I'm different yeah I'm different, I'm different yeah I'm different, been praised since birth for my originality ***** mentality bow down to the freak of freaks with the good techniques compliments of god just for being odd think I'm plagued by benality cursed by originality they think it's the coolest they think it's so great they don't understand how this twists my fate I'm different yeah so different pretending to be indifferent to being treated maltreated isolated outcast never understood different isn't so good and if I could I'd be so much more generic I'd have little simple thoughts eco friendly watts get starbucks on weekends do my nails and hair highlights down to there and if you only knew how it feels to be so **** alone you wouldn't be so prone to envy my creativity when it's met with such negativity to have no coherence of proclivity I'm a slave in captivity people come by and watch but don't touch they point ooh and aaah but they don't know what to feed me how to care for mee my biggest strength is my biggest flaw Since birth I've been told I'm so original but I'm so broken it's clinical almost criminal these thoughts I have living in a world so fictional I'm so fuckin' lonely and hungry and slowly freezing to death with no one to keep me warm or speak to I'm cryin up a storm because no one understands no one knows my heart no one knows my soul you'd think with all this praise I'd be able to climb out of this hole but truth be told lord behold I am a long sad story nobody can unfold.
0
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Yeah
I'm different yeah I'm different, I'm different yeah I'm different, been praised since birth for my originality ***** mentality bow down to the freak of freaks with the good techniques compliments of god just for being odd think I'm plagued by benality cursed by originality they think it's the coolest they think it's so great they don't understand how this twists my fate I'm different yeah so different pretending to be indifferent to being treated maltreated isolated outcast never understood different isn't so good and if I could I'd be so much more generic I'd have little simple thoughts eco friendly watts get starbucks on weekends do my nails and hair highlights down to there and if you only knew how it feels to be so **** alone you wouldn't be so prone to envy my creativity when it's met with such negativity to have no coherence of proclivity I'm a slave in captivity people come by and watch but don't touch they point ooh and aaah but they don't know what to feed me how to care for mee my biggest strength is my biggest flaw Since birth I've been told I'm so original but I'm so broken it's clinical almost criminal these thoughts I have living in a world so fictional I'm so fuckin' lonely and hungry and slowly freezing to death with no one to keep me warm or speak to I'm cryin up a storm because no one understands no one knows my heart no one knows my soul you'd think with all this praise I'd be able to climb out of this hole but truth be told lord behold I am a long sad story nobody can unfold.
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78
Aaah!!! No don't do that please. Thunk!! Shut up you dumb ***** Aaahh!! Please don't do this I said shut up before I slit your throat That's it baby just relax and enjoy yourself okay... Now get up and get dressed ya'hear I said get dressed ***** No Awwh **** maine no Awwh **** what have I done **** maine **** Sitting silently I unwillingly witness the death of this woman This beautiful innocent sweet woman Sitting silently I witness The death of this woman This poor helpless creature Being violently ripped to shreds Ripped to shreds by the hands of the hands of this monster Never even being giving the opportunity to live life to the fullest Unbearable scars and permanent bruises Will forever tattoo her once flawless skin Skin the color of the earth's  blood red deserts after the gorgeous sunset Tinted with blood and the slightest hint Of him Head hanging limply to the side Clothes no longer clothes but rags Discarded on the floor by their lifeless owner Her body battered and bruised limply lays Exposed to the world and all of their unsightly thoughts Her neck is only but a piece of matted skin for the bones are as fragile as china in an earthquake Breast at their finest peak Almost ad if they're going to explode Explode like an active volcanoe Het treasure is almost disfigures Its as if it was only a toy A toy giving to a reckless little kid Blood here sagging pieces there blisters oozing with the deafening odor of him Puddles of *** on the sheets and in between her legs Het hair matted to the sheets, dried tears and blood stains her face Body pale and limp It looks so familiar and yet so strange I know this woman bit I've never seen her before a day in my life Wait the picture Its getting blurry and fuzzy Gasp....thump-thump thump-thump Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Please don't do this No please don't, please     DEJÀ VU
0
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
Dèjà Vu
Aaah!!! No don't do that please. Thunk!! Shut up you dumb ***** Aaahh!! Please don't do this I said shut up before I slit your throat That's it baby just relax and enjoy yourself okay... Now get up and get dressed ya'hear I said get dressed ***** No Awwh **** maine no Awwh **** what have I done **** maine **** Sitting silently I unwillingly witness the death of this woman This beautiful innocent sweet woman Sitting silently I witness The death of this woman This poor helpless creature Being violently ripped to shreds Ripped to shreds by the hands of the hands of this monster Never even being giving the opportunity to live life to the fullest Unbearable scars and permanent bruises Will forever tattoo her once flawless skin Skin the color of the earth's  blood red deserts after the gorgeous sunset Tinted with blood and the slightest hint Of him Head hanging limply to the side Clothes no longer clothes but rags Discarded on the floor by their lifeless owner Her body battered and bruised limply lays Exposed to the world and all of their unsightly thoughts Her neck is only but a piece of matted skin for the bones are as fragile as china in an earthquake Breast at their finest peak Almost ad if they're going to explode Explode like an active volcanoe Het treasure is almost disfigures Its as if it was only a toy A toy giving to a reckless little kid Blood here sagging pieces there blisters oozing with the deafening odor of him Puddles of *** on the sheets and in between her legs Het hair matted to the sheets, dried tears and blood stains her face Body pale and limp It looks so familiar and yet so strange I know this woman bit I've never seen her before a day in my life Wait the picture Its getting blurry and fuzzy Gasp....thump-thump thump-thump Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Please don't do this No please don't, please     DEJÀ VU
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50
I leave in a hood where gun shots have become music to our ears. It goes like "bang-bang" We know its an alert that we are one short... I live in a hood where blood has Become the painting of street art... Its like we lose to gain... I live in a hood where underground kings have become the pimps of all clit's.. Its like "aaah-aaah" Yeah ***** you gon' be ****** for A ***** to gain rands... I like in a hood where knives have become friends with underskin.. Its like knives have been glued into pockets... So welcome to my hood...
0
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Untitled
1 don't you young become poets it may sound romantic and cool but that's what it is - it sounds Yeah, it's all about how it sounds Mom was right: *Better be a dentist - for though you stare all day into mouths you'll be agape when you look at your bank accounts* Dad was right: *Better be a surgeon-specialist - for though you fix areseholes all life-through your bank account is never a dark hole* And poetry, remember, they must have told you, doesn't sell; the Humanities are not for humans; Writing is for those who can't talk their way up - so don't aspire to be a poet dear young ones for you'll suffer all life of scarcity of means, plenty of sneers and want 2 And your husbands will tell you: *I married you cause being a poet I thought you could moan and oooh and aaah and make better love than that!* And your wives will scowl: **** your poetry! Get me real diamonds and money!* 3 So dear young ones perhaps you want to give up your verse and turn to medicine or finance or engineering and study for dollars instead *a return on investment is what you want*
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
don't become a poet (cautionary verse)
when Death calls at the casements of this mortal home he’ll not scythe my soul into the black unknown - No! with feathered feet and honey-breath will dance my lucent Lord of Death i’ll breathe - aaah! - in bright and velvet arms here you are my Prince at last
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Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
when Death calls
AaAH !!!In this ecstatic fusion of sighs,whispers and breaths raising to wild decibels in the aura surrounding US... lover... do you fail to just see how my eyes well up the instant your gaze morphs into that one touch so what... if your eyes fail to see the invisible tear in my heart as ...I trace those lines in my silences where your kiss lingered just a moment ago How I wish it was your soul which lingered there instead... in all its vulnerable wholesomeness
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Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 2:18 AM UTC
Soul(?)mates
The Gram sir, polygonal father firefly stand in Cibatus ... thread and thread form light. In the year 1300 miliérnaga great night, the Lucibatus provoke a detritment an ***** He fell back to Cibatus And her delicate body broke into two parts... In the center was in "A"; Her two columns Stumble down at the head of Mr. Gram. He in the compartment, The pulverized seeds scraped Galloping ice that undermined the Cibatus The year in 1200, Oh syllogism much light! You coordinate the central hole Cibatus basket; gramineous navel dim oracle Coming through the middle, Dodona River as light. In the center of barley, Mr. Gram healed their wounds; Fecracia corpuscles, Major ***** Susea ... that ruled with all his power by blizzards. "Not Cibatus or broken, traditional custom was broken by wind and not by Light gram " In the dark night of San Corinth, It fell night where Mr. Gram asleep ... happy told the fierfly your damage would not alter its sun. Toward the end of the day, He said his greatest roar... Their wings hawked loose Cibatus noise pain! Lat night came, and invisible, transparent body wanted spring, Love this protozoan Cibatus alone. Farewell  said fierfly in 1300, when it fell by the protozoan crag ... Signs metal birds They said ...; Aaaah ..! and noise Gram God, They said! Aaaaah ... Aaah ...! Nor no hugs or charity, the rough particle spring circle flierfly donated the ***** ... Limestone Road He loved the feet of ash, white bodies laughed and they transmuted his absent body. Flierfly he opened his eyes... Cibatus looked at his winged whistling song: " Fly Fierfly, stretch your threads; Mr. Whiskers love Gram ... buried next to the root of Cibatus " Farewell Thousand Three Hundred ... ! JOSÉ LUIS  CARREÑO TRONCOSO 10 to 11 July 1995.
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Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
C I B A T U S
The Gram sir, polygonal father firefly stand in Cibatus ... thread and thread form light. In the year 1300 miliérnaga great night, the Lucibatus provoke a detritment an ***** He fell back to Cibatus And her delicate body broke into two parts... In the center was in "A"; Her two columns Stumble down at the head of Mr. Gram. He in the compartment, The pulverized seeds scraped Galloping ice that undermined the Cibatus The year in 1200, Oh syllogism much light! You coordinate the central hole Cibatus basket; gramineous navel dim oracle Coming through the middle, Dodona River as light. In the center of barley, Mr. Gram healed their wounds; Fecracia corpuscles, Major ***** Susea ... that ruled with all his power by blizzards. "Not Cibatus or broken, traditional custom was broken by wind and not by Light gram " In the dark night of San Corinth, It fell night where Mr. Gram asleep ... happy told the fierfly your damage would not alter its sun. Toward the end of the day, He said his greatest roar... Their wings hawked loose Cibatus noise pain! Lat night came, and invisible, transparent body wanted spring, Love this protozoan Cibatus alone. Farewell  said fierfly in 1300, when it fell by the protozoan crag ... Signs metal birds They said ...; Aaaah ..! and noise Gram God, They said! Aaaaah ... Aaah ...! Nor no hugs or charity, the rough particle spring circle flierfly donated the ***** ... Limestone Road He loved the feet of ash, white bodies laughed and they transmuted his absent body. Flierfly he opened his eyes... Cibatus looked at his winged whistling song: " Fly Fierfly, stretch your threads; Mr. Whiskers love Gram ... buried next to the root of Cibatus " Farewell Thousand Three Hundred ... ! JOSÉ LUIS  CARREÑO TRONCOSO 10 to 11 July 1995.
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As the bells ring for saints to go into heavenly slumber At sunset the grey-haired lay in the box proper Away from the moist air they'd love to take in longer Acute heartache stay, hours into days as brothers go beyond the border A chunk of charming choristers sing hallelujah A once happy home goes silent, a loving sand goes yonder Aaah! I, scared to go in now pray to you merciful father.
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 4:21 AM UTC
In Thoughts