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BJ Sep 2020
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum behad khoobsurat **.
Ye jo tumne akhon ke kajal ko b palko ki had me dal rakha hai.
In aankhon ne jane kitna kehar sambhal rakha hai.
Kya chamak hai aankho me jaise ek choti si khush duniya ka sapna paal rakha hai.
Socha cheru thoda tumhe or thoda sata du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum nazneen **.
Phir kuch tumhare galon k un khaddo ki gehrayi dekhi.
Na us se gehri koi khaayi dekhi.
Nazar htane wala tha k us muskan ne rok lia..
Muje aj sambhalne se pehle tere chehre nadan ne rok lia.
Jane tumhe ye sab kehna lagta hai khata kyu.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dilnashi **.
Vo choti si kali bindi jo thik maathe k me kahi hai.
Vo b har shayar ko kheench rahi hai.
Jaise muje kehti ** idhar aao tumhe kano k jhumko ka pta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dalkashi **.
Ye phir thode uljhe thode suljhe baal hai.
Inki to ada hi bemisal Hai
Tumhe tang karte hai.
Manmarji chalate hai jaise tujse jung karte hai.
Chere pe aate hai tum unhe phir peeche karti.
Kabhi clip se kabhi rubber se kheenche rakhti **.
Kabhi aaye chehre pe to shayad main b hta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum koi kehkasha **.
Or vo sone ki nath ko koi
kaise taal sakta hai.
Jise tumne apni teekhi si naak me daal rakha hai.
Or kuch batein in sab se pare hai.
Tera chutkan sa Gussa hai jane tu kaise handle kare hai.
Phir vo pyari si hasi vo sharm haya  vo bachpana vo nadaniya.
Samjhdari vo nasamjhi
Vo adayein vo shaitaniya.
Or sambko tumne brabar rakha hai.
Jane ye hisab kaise lagakar rakha hai.
Kya kehna hai kya sunna hai kya bolna hai kya btana.
Kab ruthna hai kab manana hai kab satana hai kab jatana hai.
Teri har ek choti moti khoobiyon ne dil me aatank macha rakha hu.
Jane tune kitne salo se khud ko ishq se bacha rakha hai.
Jane mujme kab se or kyu ye thode guroor k lakshan aaye hai
K tuje suna sabne hai samjh sirf hum paaye hai.
Tum jaisa or koi mere aas paas ni hai.
Phir kaise manliya jaye tum aam ladki ** tum me kuch  khas nahi hai.
Ha aj maine ek kadam apne beech ki sarhad se thoda bahar aaya.
Tumne apna hunar azmaya tha vo pic dalke use shayri bnake maine apna hunar aazmaya hai.
ye padhke tum socho k inam du is shayar ko ya koi saza du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum afreen **.

Tum khoobsurat **.
Manas Madrecha Jun 2015
English Transliteration - Satya Sarvopari Sarvaat

Jhoot bolna aam ** gaya, par mahimaa satya ki kam naa aanknaa,
Bheetar ki naitiktaa ko, vivek-nayan se zaroor jhaank naa...

Man aur vani ki akhandta, vibhakt ** ne naa denaa,
Jhoot par avalambit **, swa-nistha khone naa denaa...

Kapat aacharan ko apnakar, aarthik sukh hi paaoge,
Sabal charitra banaa lo gar, toh nityaanand tak jaaoge...

Vani par jiske satya sadaa, vachan shakti siddh hogi,
Mukh se upji har shabdaavali, vaastav mein sanghatit hogi...

Abhisandhi ka gar karo prayog, jo logo ko sambhramit kare,
Toh unki nahi, tumhaari mithya, jo aatm ko hi dooshit kare...

Jab jab kanth kare dhwani, prajwalit ** satyajyoti se har baat,
Jhoot gaun samaksh uske, satya sarvopari sarvaat...

- - - - -

English Translation - Truth is above everything

Speaking lies have become common, but don't underestimate the significance of Truth,
Do peep into your inner morality through the eyes of conscience...

Do not let the integrity of Mind & Speech be dissected,
By adhering onto fallacy, do not let your self morale be lost...

By embracing fraudulent behavior, you will only get monetary pleasure,
But if you build a brawny (strong) Character, you will go till Eternal Happiness (Salvation) ...

The one who always has Truth on his Speech, the force of oration will become effectual,
Every vocabulary out from his mouth, will constitute into Reality...

If you do use deceit, for misapprehending the people,
Then the illusion is not theirs, but yours, for it pollutes your own self...

When ever the throat makes sound, let every talk be illuminated with the light of Truth,
Lie is inferior in front of it, Truth is above every thing...

- - - - -

Original Poem - सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्

झूठ बोलना आम हो गया, पर महिमा सत्य की कम ना आंकना।
भीतर की नैतिकता को, विवेक-नयन से ज़रूर झांकना।।

मन और वाणी की अखंडता, विभक्त होने ना देना।
झूठ पर अवलंबित हो, स्वनिष्ठा खोने ना देना।।

कपट आचरण को अपनाकर, आर्थिक सुख ही पाओगे।
सबल चरित्र बना लो गर, तो नित्यानंद तक जाओगे।।

वाणी पर जिसके सत्य सदा, वचन-शक्ति सिद्ध होगी।
मुख से उपजी हर शब्दावली, वास्तव में संघटित होगी।।

अभिसंधि का गर करो प्रयोग, जो लोगो को संभ्रमित करे।
तो उनकी नहीं, तुम्हारी मिथ्या, जो आत्म को ही दूषित करे।।

जब जब कंठ करे ध्वनि, प्रज्वलित हो सत्यज्योति से बात।
झूठ गौण समक्ष उसके, सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्।।

© Poem by Manas Madrecha
This poem was first published on the blog 'Simplifying Universe'
(http://www.simplifyinguniverse.blogspot.com) in May, 2015.
Abhishek kumar Aug 2018
Na amiro ki basti mein rhta hu
Na hi gareebo ke aashiyane mein
Middle class ka hua
Middle mein rhta hu

Na pahali pankti ki pehali seat pr baithta hu
Na hi aakhar mein khada rhta hu
Middle class ka hu
Middle mein rhta hu

Na croro ka kabaar  hai
Na hi gulabi note hazar hai
Middle class ka hu
Meri jarurate saman hai

Na luxury car hai
Na nhi cycle apni bekar hai
Middle class ka hu
Auto,riksha, paddle chalna
Apne liye aam hai

Na meri girlfriends char hai
Na hi single rhna izzat ka swaal hai
Middle class ka hu
Apne yaar,dost shandaar hai

Na aasman chhuti imarto par likha apna naam hai
Na hi sadak kinare bitati apni shaam hai
Middle class ka hu
In dono ke beech
Kaat leta apni raat hu

Na videsh ghoomnta hu
Nahi sehar se bahar jaana muskil samjhta hu
Middle class ka hu
Apna desh pura ghoom lena bhi bahut samajhata hu

Na sir jhukane wale log hai
Na hi sir jhukane wale hum hai
Middle class ka hu
Sabko gale lagana hi
Apna dharam hai

Na hi ac mein kaam karta hu
Na hi dhoop mein pasina sukhata hu
Middle class ka hu
Pankhe ke niche apna kaam karta hu

Na suraksha karmi apne pass hai
Na hi sarir apna lachar hai
Middle class ka hu
Apni jaan ki raksha apne hath hai

Na chhapan pakwan banate apne maharaj hai
Na hi khaali pet sota apna pariwaar hai
Middle class ka hu
Meri maa ke haath mein hi sara sawaad hai
JAMIL HUSSAIN Oct 2016
Sara Jahan Mast
Jahan Ka Nizam Mast
Din Mast, Raat Mast, Sahar Mast, Shaam Mast
Mast Sheesha, Mast Suboo, Mast Jaam Mast
Hai Teri Chashm-e-Mast Se Har Khaas-o-Aam Mast*

The world is intoxicated
The order of universe is intoxicated
The day is intoxicated; the night, the dawn and the evening are intoxicated
The glass is intoxicated, the goblet and the wine itself is intoxicated
Your enchanting eyes have made everything so intoxicated.


— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Shivam Porwal Dec 2017
Me bhi tumhari tarah 1 aam insaan hu
Pareshaniya mene bhi dekhi hai, takleefe mene bhi sahi h
Kuch waqt k liye khud Ko kamzor bhi paya hai
Mera bhi man mushkilo ko dekhkar ghbraya hai,

Par inhi sab chizo se 1 tajurba paaya hai
Jisne Zindagi ko jeena ka 1 naya rang sikhaya hai

Sangharsh aur musibatein to jivan ka ek hissa hai
Aage bhi badna hai sangharsh bhi nahi krna hai ye to galat kissa hai

Sangharsh ke bina tajurba kaha se laoge
Aur tajurbe ke bina kya sikhoge aur sikhaoge

Ab waqt aa gaya hai tumhe himmat dikhani hogi,
Apni kathinaiyo par apni asfaltao par tumko Vijay Pani hogi
Apne irado ko or majbut banana hoga
Kuch karna hai kuch karna hai in jazbato ko dil me utarna hoga

Ye zindagi ki ladai hai tumhe khud hi ladni hogi
Apni kamiyo ko taqat banane ki kala tumhe sikhni hogi
Tum chaho to duniya jeet skte **
Apne har sapne ko haqueeqat me badal skte ** !!! :)
An inspiration poem which inspires to fight with the conflicts
Vineeta rai Mar 2019
Pyar me ek ldki ki khwahish apne partner se... Ldke thoda samjhe...meri feelings in kuch lines K jariy...

Ladkiyan krti hai pyar dil-o-jaan Se..
Ldkiyan nibhati h riste ko bade aaram se...
Ladkiyan sanjoti hai apni khwahishe ko seese ki kaanch me....
Bikhrte hai wo khwahishe riste ke naam pe...
Ladkiyan nahi karti apni khusiyo ki parwah relationship me....
Isiliy bali cadhti hai unki khusiyo ki sare aam pyar ke naam pe...
Ladkiyan sab karti hai rista nibhane ko....
Par.... Par..
Gaur kriyga unki ldko se expectations v/s reality...
Ladki Cahti hai ldke ka pyar...
Ushe milta h bus ldke ka gussa yrr...
Ldki cahti hai ldke ka waqt...
Ushe milta hai bus intezaar...
Ldki cahti hai ldke ki understanding...
Milta h ushe bus misunderstanding...
Ldki cahti hai unka trust...
Milta kya hai frustration ke balloon ka brust...
Ldki cahti hai bus apka sath...
Aur app krte ** unke har khwahiso ka kaam tamam...
Kaam Tamam..
Not for all boys.. But all who do unko samjh aa jae to achi baat hai... Ldkiyo ki khwahish jada ni h bhut simple si demand h jb wo apke liy sb kr skti h to kya app unki khusiyo ka khyal v ni rkh skte...
for each of ALL her: her... he she and him: and her O you: oh i... ALL her or hers: the sighs: sighs via: all? assured, exclaiming: ah! as a sigh... brothel Islam like brothel church: mother of bordello... in no defence but at least the witches were banished and so was superstitions about women and bestaility and men and autism... for all? ah: and summon A'am... from all: and ah: to all as Ah and Am... because the Arabs were to learn from the Egyptians: and not criticized the Hebrews: well: they did that: in the beginning: but even without eating pork: became lost in inheritening the ***** juice of Satan: dinosaur black gold: Islam became naturally defunct via natural inheritence stones rocks and Mammon... Muhammad Mammon Mammah... i need to wed Allah to A'am... before it is too late... the Islamic girls are frightened... i'm not surprise why... be: loved: don't idealise the beloved: just be: and so will come of being of the loved... women oh so shy and so lovely women i cant's translate into a universal queue of oglong: ablast... little words... little feelings: but such an intact grand whole unison of a you.. some pseudo-scientist ahoy... or just a compactness of the child before you: dreaming of trans-species in going beyond the races of man and needing toi meet the need for breeding Monkeys with Bears: we are to end up as Monkeys that no one knows who were: but Monkeys that had to become Bears! we can at least say: then man went into bear... from monkey... but where did monkey come from?! Achilles: child: memento of history: forgeting it... ah:am... or perhaps: a'yam... or ah-yam... then came the D with the Veil of what i'd give: should you not be with me... oh Ahyyam... who said Allah was a bridge to brides... an old Jewish seamstress in the Arabian peninsula... foretold cul de sac fates of singletons... who said of the right names in lettering from BL CN: AE: AI:
Ahyyam: no less the Adam of the devil V in the **** of all Eve.


nie! ja tego! szwabowie nie przebacze!
tego FRYTC
nien nein nein!

when Kant said: analytical a priori
via mathematics:
1 + 1 = 2
1 - 1 = 0:

but zero was so late a commer
of the common denomainator
of multiplication:

Kant's a priori
castle: analytic of other horror synthesis:
1 + 1 = 2...
but before numbers were
beyond trans-:
rigidity of letters:
they were:
lavish exports of idea
from India and via
Arabia?
seriously?!

i was supposed to eat a pizza
tonight:
i rather the idea of cannibalism:
writing by myself
is so much more Inshallah:
Bismalah:
      Quran O Aam...
               not Allah: Aam... Allah is a female
name... Allah is the bride of Aam...
Allah is the Bridge of Aam...
just look at the terrified women...
they do not fear Islam's men...
they fear the Male Deity
hidden in the Female deity of Allah:
i wouldn't know:
whether Allah is a masculine sounding name
or whether Allah is a feminine sounding name:
Muhammad was a man...
Aisha was a female:
was Allah ibin Muhammad
was Allah shy loom Aisha...
the Moon the earth and sun the Gravitas?
i think history needs
historiology like post Kant post Nieztsche:
****-scructurists...
   Heidegger...               i'm a disciple of:
the chimera of man
as the schematic of ego super ego id
the scalpel: sister: from a descent from heaven
into a struggle:
Hebrew with Arab! reunited!
joy! O joy to the world
like there might be no end of this drama
of fief and thieves and fire and force!
i am:
the post-monkey...
via cats
via dogs:
who want to make
the daft ain sof
connection with the bear... imprint...
i will not find it swinging from branches
and then onto the moon:
i need to rekindle myself
with caves and paintings of packaging
tomato soups and Andy Warholls
rather than steering for antelopes...
the king of nature is a trinity
of the chimera:
serpent...
yes yes yesssss....
lion, gorilla... bear... banner? eagle...
and ye who want to be blessed
forever:
just the amount of torture of
the fates of sheep and the winds of lacklustre...
but i see the screaming ego:
and i can't sooth it with id...
no super-ego abides to give learning:
therefore from shadow to moon
to shadow on the moon
the eternal exent of nacht:
then onto the sun to scortch.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
for my friend, the artist,
Ayesha Joy Burkey

the answer simplest,
is there any other way?

we paint, fashion jewelry,
even human beings,
for and from
wire, stone, DNA,
and paint

our harshest critics,
ourselves,
always we busy saying,
not good enough

so South Dakota,
breathe release,
let one whom,
you have never
in flesh seen,
see you through
the ten plagues,
to a promised
answer~land

long have I searched for my
flawless poem,
knowing it my be
my next one,
each a doorway
to the next

this one,
and the
one before,
never good enough,
keep the essay going,
in fourth gear

so South Dakota,
in hot springs,
salve and be saved,
rapid city breaths exhaled,
in Jerusalem,
see the deal sealed

breathe release,
read out loud,
for hereby,
and nearby,
your voice must join me,
in this semi-silent
collaboration to make
this solo poem
into a
partnered painting
all yours,
your very own

can't you believe,
the mere question
you posing,
within,
the answer,
reposing...

The creation act,
frailties fraught,
what we design,
never good enough

but we paint on,
for the paint,
when eyes embraced,
says
a piece of my grief
herein encapsulated,
and so on and on,
to the next,
thus it's entirety
lessened,
one step closer
to diminished

you, grief painter
right hand cunning,
me, grief writer,
lest we forget,
through our art,
that even if our
words fail
our tongue, the ears,
to comprehend,
to communicate,
to convey,

but the eyes
they,
cannot be denied,
eyes,
that have gazed upon your
painting prayer

Of course you heal,
tikun (repair) of your world,
in every brush stroke,
you answer,
sufficient,
dayenu,

and then you
Restless Painter,
ask again, and answer,
af p'aam lo maspiq,
never good enough,

and I say it once more:

can't you believe
the mere question
posing,
within, the answer,
reposing...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Two small paintings are part of a number
I did as an assignment
when I went to stay with my son.
One of his OCD symptoms  
is seen in a difficulty to get through doorways.  

When I showed the collection of work
to my teacher she said  
"do you realize you are painting open doorways?"  
And indeed, the motif was there
whether abstract or realist.  

Can one heal a child through paintings?
Or one's grief at being helpless to change things?"

A.J. Burkey
Hum  to  yun  aam   hai,  pur naaz    hotey
Warna  ap   par   bhi   asar   andaz   hotey

Tere  saaz  se  kaha  mili   hai  meri  awaaz
Phir   tere   asraar    ke    humraaz   hotey

Dikhatey hum manatey  hai  yaaru ko kaise
Kabhi  aa.kar wo hum se  to naraaz  hotey

Is Ishq me daikhey  hain  jo  Qatal gah  bhi
Kaash  us   inteha  ke  hum  aghaaz   hotey

Is  bey-jaan shayiri se wo ro padi  Sharafat
Shayir na hotey, kam az kam jaanbaz hotey
A free verse Urdu poem.
Nidhi Jaiswal Nov 2020
Bas hame malum naa tha
kisi ke sath pane ki
khawahish bhi na thi
kisi se bicharne ka gam v nahi tha
To kya tha jo tha
bas hame malum naa tha.

Jane anjane me hua tha hame v kuch kabhi
The bekhabar hm bhi
Khudse hii khabar the

Til Til se sanjoya tha khaboo ka v mahal kabhi hhmne
Tut gaye sare khawb par til v na dikhi

Khawbo ki atishbaji dil me iss qudar ** rhi thi
Jaise khuli aashaman me tare nazae aane lage the

Uss hasin shaam ko main
Dulhan ki tarah saji uss saksh e oo aam ka main
Talab e intazar kar rhi thi
Par wo nahi aaya
Wo pal tham si gyi
Meri sanse ruk hii gye
Mano
Bin mausam ki bijliya barasne lage
Aachank tufan sa utne laga
Mere dil ke har kone me
Brishsh v hui khuli ragistan m
yado ka silsila mitne laga
kuch is quadar jaise
Reet pani me tairne lagi
Bas hame malum naa tha.

This poem is based on reality of life when you truly loves to someone but  still they don't understand your feelings. Than we feel  life is just stopped. But we should move on.
Thanks for reading
Autumn Feb 2013
sitting in class, perfectly silent, makes my teacher ask "are you sick, autumn?"
but you see mr. teacher you would not care even if i was. My mind said only deep to the bone, but you thought my normal obnoxiousness was normal for me. Yet this quietness inside me has been wanting to break out for oh so long and now it has. why must you believe i am the wau"i" am?
why couldn't you look deeper to find the real me?
i am not silent, nor am i what you all believe me to be.
so stop assuming i will do what oyu say,
so stop believeing i will say this not that,
so stop insulting me because your insults are so ridiculous you have no idea,
your insults don't even compare to me because you don't know me,
so i beg of you to please just stop.
so i beg of you to please just keep on going as if nothing will make a differnecr when im gone.
i beg of you to stop defending me.
i beg of you to stop saying i impressed you with my being quiet when thats who i aam, i beg of you to stop being so danm ignoraant.
i beg of you to open your eyes.
for thats all i want.
open your eyes, and seee that i am me and you are you,
and that that's
what it simply
is.
so
i
beg
of
you
to
p
l
e
a
s
e
open
your
EYES
Rahameem May 2021
Hello world, I am a dusty flower
among ****** pebbles
gathered on the road which
no one can see us
even though we do not hide

Hello world, I am that kid
who weeps when a bombshell happens
instead of a hanky that I get
They bestow me such beautiful fiery bullets
right on both of these eyes
what a lucky me
My tears are stopped
Then, I will never weep again

Helelleow
Hello woorld

Hello world, I am that kid
who always summon
God's name in every single I take
a sharply gravel and throw it into the sky
not even one-minute passes
God answers me already
and He tells me
Son, you don't need to summon me anymore!

How lucky I am, all I need is just one gravel
then I can meet Him in Behest

H e ll o, woo rrl dd

Hello, world
I am that kid
who until now
cannot understand
are we even living on the same earth?

once I've heard about the other kids
on another side of this earth
when the sun slowly disappear
their mothers look for them and take them home
enough for playing!
Their mothers say

I kn ee ww
Ikh
Ikne
I knew,

I knew this world already knew
that, I am that kid
who does not have a mother
nor home
Yet has the world known?
that I also don't have the sun  

Because
All of my days sense cold, as an endless snowstorm
Because
All of my days look dark, as a hole embedded  in my mother's head
Because
The sun is just for them, who guarded by fully armed soldiers

Be caaus e

He ee ll o wo  oo rlll d
a rre yo uu st ii ll t h eerr ee ?

He llo wor ll d, I aam thha t kiii dd
wh oo stil ll ha s g uts to sp e eak up
yet th e y cut of f my  th roa t

Hel lo ww oor lld…
I AA M THA
II AAM THAAT K
HEELL OO WO RRLL DD ?? !

HELL ..!
This poem's dedicated to all Palestinian kids
MANGO, THE KING OF FRUITS & HAFOOS/ALPHANSO  IS THE EMPEROR.

Sweet as sugar,  luscious, with a mouth watering taste n flavour; are insufficient words, to a Mango describe;

Sometimes tangy, sometimes sour, but when ripe, often sweet as sugar; can't describe a Mango aptly, this scribe.

As kids, we were often, this offered, as a reward/award or you may say, a lucrative bribe.

Summers scare most of us in the tropics; but jackfruit and mangoes lure us beyond this unbearable heat;

With "Aam panna, Baflo, lassi, chhash, nimbu-pani,"  one can somewhat, the summer heat beat.

If we have many many more Mango trees, an "Aambawadi", is actually a wonderful, a truly good retreat.

So let's not just enjoy the fruit, let's also plant its seed.

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2020
is it just me, or, do we really lie in waiting
for some... shawshank redemption
cold-shower... this: guilty until proven innocent
paradigm "shift" of the status quo:
that somehow... we're not lingering hope
that: once in old age...
once the ****** urges and impulses have
disappeared - we can find the playground:
once more... remind me!
are we expected to find playground friendships
in old age?
or are we to simply couple:
dementia riddles of ****** innuendos
of cucumbers coupled with,.. oysters?!
sniff of the ol' wildflower...
or a pair of pink infuriating the burgundies...
lesser: the burgundians...
after all: d'artagnan was a gascon...

"woke" goes "w'ham - ham m'aam:
thank you parmesan" - and broke...
for all the talk of racial inclusion...
the protagonist's whittle voice
in... some obscure background...
the race precursors of psychology;
firefighters reunited!
spandex ballet!
london's:
and the fire's raging!

they once said... belmarsh prison...
oh belmarsch prison is the, worst!
bedlam?
prison: no prison... society...
i would very much like...
to appreciate... what's cage appropriate...
and what's... leftover disney *******
maze cooking: sordid:
hi! how are y'ah?!
my name's bob - i'll be your
breathing instructor for the next
to weeks... hope you drown.

and yes: however odd the face...
it can't compensate...
esp. when the language behind it...
has horror i.q. of a down-syndrome:
balloon blower;
either narrator... or protagonist...
pun-ctu-a-tion...
even without diacritical markers...

you can... most certainly...
make... hyphen icisions...
it does require someone of a priestly status
to: "spot the cipher" of pause
and... detail...
apparently the church allowed...
a brief summary of how...
all were taught... literacy...
while some were... freed from the shackles
of slavery...
or some otherwise mentioned
piece of hag...
hog... and roadkill *******...
        
       at this point... bukowski and his
dyslexic pride doesn't help...
give me 150 years... posthumously...
not when i'm alive...
150 years after i'm dead...
bukowski can ******* with his b'aaah...
his b'aah... there's only so much pride
an educated man can take from...
what can hardly pass as being
self-taught...
i call it the stiff rubric of the unshakeable:
1 + 1 = 2... and f + u + c + k / u =
the blatant obvious!

coarse says: these words are to be somehow
distilled... made less...
oat and ore-esque...
refined like french corsets or english top hats!
well... i say refine them as blood-sausages
working on the grounds of:
only replicas of haggis welcome!

i somtimes wonder...
where does my shadow wander off to...
when i'm asleep?
MANGO

Salute you I do; "O Shenshah o ke  Shenshah";

Mango, king of all fruits, tastiest is,  hence a Shenshah;

Delicious, sweet, mouthwatering, like sheer nectar you taste.

There is hardly a part of you that is utilized not, or is a waste.

The pulp of course is undoubtedly the best, as compared to the rest .

Wonderful are your  jams, sweets, candies; n "aam ras" definitely is the best.

In season this,  not to be able to eat you, feels like a grave grave sin.

The seed, beneath the cover hard, is excellent medicine;

O Mango,  your skin, cows, goats, buffaloes happily devour.

Eating you whilst still green is real fun, with salt n chillies...tangy n sour;

Mouthwatering is that taste; "baafla" also very healthy is.

Will you folks collect mango seeds n sow them pleeeeeeease.

Armin Dutia Motashaw.

— The End —