"addressing" poems
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea.
At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate.
This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land.
“Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment.
Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement.
Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused.
Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control.
The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed.
In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
A proud man,
Upright and unshakable
In belief and morals,
Once only I did I see him
Without a tie.
A child of Edwardian England,
The links Of his watch chain
Glinted
As they hung
With formality and elegance
From his waistcoat pocket,
Yes, even as he worked.
And work he did.
Patiently,
Brilliantly and tirelessly
With ingenuity and imagination.
A craftsman from a bygone age.
A master of his tools.
Grandfathers are soft,
Playful, bear-like in their
Gruff-whiskered familiarity.
Not Poppy.
Unwittingly aloof from his grandchildren,
We avoided the need for directly addressing him,
Unsure of where we stood.
He’d probably have secretly
Loved the informality
Of our secret nickname.
I hope he knew.
The chapel piano did for him.
Too much weight for his work-weary ticker.
Grandma gave me his pocket watch to keep,
And for a time I treasured it,
Measuring its weight
Like a smooth round pebble
In my palm.
A workman’s watch;
Practical.
A yellowing face
Behind a scratched
And hazy glass.
But accurate,
And precise.
Reliable as the man.
Detached in life,
I liked to hope that
Gazing down,
Watching,
He just might have
Laughed
In loving acknowledgement of his
Grandson’s curiosity
And foolishness
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet,
With heart-thumping nausea
Adrift in a sea of springs.
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:15 AM UTC
Machine ground days
Somehow survived by clinging to precarious plans
Die for those.
For proles are stuck in a televised gleam
but I’m barred from distractions
I’m a man of action
Spring healing:
I found a new hope to get through the day
It has a name and it’s you
Workday: animistic curses
against people and their systems and products
except animals would escape forever
as soon as they open the cage
but we stay
The beastly gnashings of overworked merchandisers
for invisible self pocket stuffers
The competition's getting to us, comrades
I feel swindled out of my labor
I was pregnant
but they sold my child before
I woke up
Addressing the solipsism of my rehab circle:
I’m Kagey, and my life is hazy
but, blunted or no, let’s get this clear:
don’t trust your senses
and that goes for all my human peers
Body is a cage full of defenses
Still, I’m suspicious of reality
whether it’s façade society
or the wooden chair in front of me
Still, I enjoy the virtual scenery
I ain’t talking about on the T.V. or phone screen
I mean the willows, buildings, and faces
But all these mushy green acres are fakers
blobs without our eyesight
Still tho,
me and the universe are tight.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 8:00 AM UTC
myopic frames on a stern temple remind me that once he too wandered recklessly and felt ardent
empowered by time on his sleeve
there was nothing he couldn't conquer and nothing standing between the open air and breathing it in
i suppose the difference here is i grab the breath of air and hold it in my pocket for when i stop being so nervous
marshmallow heart
the road only goes one way and the streetlights hover and coil eternally, you can never meet the epilogue
a drive-thru drink in one hand while you feel your hair tangling into a mess of a beehive, the one that likes to unwind in soft tendrils on a weak pillow
heart racing for the constant fueling of a near empty tank telling you to go further this time, this time
time isn't yours
holding in a cough
i too have tried to drown waterbugs
my cheek pressed against the tiles of a kitchen floor, hand perched languidly as my fingers make circles in the tiny swamp i made in the middle of the room
but i forget laying there until i hear my own soul walk in with bare feet addressing the elephant in the room, the one that hasn't left since i was sick with bronchitis that winter years ago
and i want to tell her to come here, to come back inside myself so it doesn't feel so cold this season of frost but she brushes me off with the temperament of a child
"i don't exist, i never did" the words dawdle back and forth from her back molars to her incisors
and i remember when i felt like i was dying when i hopped from one state to the next but realizing a little to late that if i were to go back my dread would jump on the back of my shoulders and force me to look it into it's shiny face and show me the mild nuisance of what it means to be alive
so my soul closes the door and i hear the keys rattle and i myself sink into the warm arms of someone i spent my entire life with
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
There are many definitions of pride,
All in which, are perceived from a side,
Notable opinions indeed when we’re addressing the dogma that arise when mind project words that express one; wise,
However, it’s all contrary to me,
Pride isn’t something relating belief,
It can’t be put aside if it’s beyond side; choice/time,
Egoist defined when declined, rejoice inclined,
I can’t respond to a situation,
There’s no resolution when living unconditional and uncertain,
I am beyond interpretation,
I do not allude in illusions and wonder why they’re certain,
Abracadabra Hocus-Pocus...
Omm, “This State Farm jingle isn’t workin,”
AHP; “Magic”; Ouroboros,
Analytical Hierarchy Perspective on Serpent,
“They have power; They influence the course of events with supernatural forces”
That’s Magic?
The law of attraction; influencing life with thoughts; Quantum Mechanics, Force is,
Say “attract it,”
Demographics defining diplomatic, power be to the tree that’s aristocratic,
Problematic if geographic determines what’s democratic,
Tragic when ethnography constitutes what’s archetypal and habitual;
A classic ritual opposite of obsolete; of course bigotries automatic,
Bring back the art of holographic,
I’m leaning back like Crack if it’s dogmatic,
I do not understand how we understand species before intelligent and acknowledge intelligence like we never had it,
As if dyslexia was a natural condition; as if this ability was somehow previously hidden so with awareness became magic,
Freedom of speech,
“But I don’t like your words, sir”
Freedom to be,
“Those are not the clothes I prefer, sir”
Being discrete,
“He’s not in my position, he must concur”
Oh, What is believed?
They’re obligated to assumptions, so they infer most-
Too much pride will **** a man,
By picking a side he’ll lose a hand,
If using his pride he’s sure to win,
If losing his mind; insane a friend,
Clueless of time; he’ll never die,
Til P take a Ride, and replace his pride with another man’s.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 5:30 PM UTC
A letter of intent, so clear, addressing me
written in exquisite feminine form,
in the script of love, her eyes encrypted;
only I'll be entitled to read it, none else,
and undertake the next delicate move.
It comes gliding towards me, isn't it magic?
Nothing unexpected this , in fact two pair of eyes
for a cool one week,did negotiations in intense silence
pregnant with desire, culminating in love,
the scent of love
elates, it's in the morning air, binds us together, wafts!
Yes, you are the wild flower, the honeybee is here.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
My Principles Are Not For Sale!
This poem is dedicated to all those secret, righteous souls, the silent minority (and heaven alone knows who they are) who guide their principles of conduct, whenever their evil inclination challenges them, by the credo "G-d is watching." They do what is right, unimpressed with what "everybody else does." They readily hold their lip, and bow their head to maintain this "peace" in G-d's world. To them, know, this is their holy sacrifice--a sacrifice to G-d, on his very Alter (our world).
Surviving adversity, it is really against the odds
that you'll still stay normal with your full deck of cards
Like many a cause that you know have a price
where principle is concerned, you're ready to sacrifice
There is right and there is wrong, you don't need to belong
your principles are just, they have made you headstrong
No rhyme and no reason can sway you from this cause
because you've pondered its justice and have found no flaws
Shouts of anger and negativity galore
you are now tasting just what is in store
What words could you offer to those limited in thought
when all is finished, would it be your wisdom they sought?
Words of the heart enter the heart, when all else fails
it's not a bad place to be, when addressing another's ails
To overcome adversity there is not always one solution
but it can never be found in starting a revolution
In final sum, it seems like the rule of thumb
better to negotiate that peace and then some
For the alternatives are all to clear
why perpetuate hatred and fear
so put aside your differences
and find a world wishing to care
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
My Principles Are Not For Sale!
This poem is dedicated to all those secret, righteous souls, the silent minority (and heaven alone knows who they are) who guide their principles of conduct, whenever their evil inclination challenges them, by the credo "G-d is watching." They do what is right, unimpressed with what "everybody else does." They readily hold their lip, and bow their head to maintain this "peace" in G-d's world. To them, know, this is their holy sacrifice--a sacrifice to G-d, on his very Alter (our world).
Surviving adversity, it is really against the odds
that you'll still stay normal with your full deck of cards
Like many a cause that you know have a price
where principle is concerned, you're ready to sacrifice
There is right and there is wrong, you don't need to belong
your principles are just, they have made you headstrong
No rhyme and no reason can sway you from this cause
because you've pondered its justice and have found no flaws
Shouts of anger and negativity galore
you are now tasting just what is in store
What words could you offer to those limited in thought
when all is finished, would it be your wisdom they sought?
Words of the heart enter the heart, when all else fails
it's not a bad place to be, when addressing another's ails
To overcome adversity there is not always one solution
but it can never be found in starting a revolution
In final sum, it seems like the rule of thumb
better to negotiate that peace and then some
For the alternatives are all to clear
why perpetuate hatred and fear
so put aside your differences
and find a world wishing to care
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
I am the monarch of the Sea,
The ruler of the Queen's Navee,--
When at anchor here I ride,
My ***** swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman's taunts.
And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts
His sisters and his cousins!
Whom he reckons by the dozens,
And his aunts!
'I am the lowliest tar
That sails the water.
And you, proud maiden, are
My captain's daughter.'
'Refrain, audacious tar.
Your suit from pressing;
Remember what you are,
And whom addressing.'
For I am called Little Buttercup,--dear Little Buttercup,
Though I never could tell why;
But still I'm called Buttercup,--poor Little Buttercup,
Sweet Little Buttercup I!
Fair moon, to thee I sing
Bright regent of the heavens;
Say, why is every thing
Either at sixes or at sevens!
He is an Englishman!
For he himself has said it,
And it's greatly to his credit
That he is an Englishman.
3.4k
Sweet nectar
from a forbidden
flower.
I must remember
that life is simple.
Enchanting meadows.
whispering
in my ears
forgotten dreams
and
promises.
You would make a lovely bouquet.
A vase of lies
sit on the kitchen table,
addressing me
with meaningless
memories.
Each spring
you grow back.
robing me of
my piece of
mind.
And each blossom
reminds me
that it will soon
be
over.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
We were equally matched
Until a plan was hatched
You became the subtle aggressor
By making appearances lesser
Using your passion aggression
To steer a passive direction
You perform a vanishing act
By canvassing flak
Balancing black
Against a sky so blue
Teaching me that which is true
Is different from what I knew
So my anxiety naturally grew
You launch a resistance
By remaining silent
On this plane of existence
Where you're the pilot
Not taking the right angle
Into the Bermuda Triangle
That is your social sphere
Where you disappear
From committal fear
Of love being near
So I throw a search party
But your presence is tardy
Because you're departing
On the journey you're starting
Without me
Slouching
From my submission
To your anti-admission
Splitting our position
Like nuclear fission
The air has become radioactive
Through light that is refractive
Through ways which are retractive
Living this ugly way to live
Sharpening my shiv
To escape this cell of decay
Where flowers bloom and fray
But can't see the light of day
Not one ray
Stuck in the marked moor
Of this dark war
I use parkour
To avoid aggressor attacks
Never cutting me any slack
Bringing pain back
Until I crack
Lost in your blank expression
I make a grave concession
Enslaved to your impression
Yet afraid of your aggression
Caught between
Taking heed
And fulfilling needs
Born from greed
I'll only impede
You scream aggressively
Like you're ********** me
Just by addressing me
After making a mess of me
With deafening quiet
You attack with a diet
Of a steady riot
And I won't buy it
You left when you were here
But stayed once you weren't near
You switched to a guillotine gear
Based on how you wanted to appear
Striking me from the equation
By utilizing deflation
For a sinister elation
You removed our relation
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:23 AM UTC
Perception is a sickness we conceive.
Letting people control our reactions.
Changing our level of satisfaction.
There is choices in every emotion we produce.
Being offended is a feeling we have comitted.
What you say or do has no effect on my rationality.
Unless, I let your insecurities influence how I carry my body.
Addressing our contaminations helps open our eyes.
No longer being victimized by the lies others drown us in.
We can make the decision to keep opposition or let it roll down like rain.
Having positivity in all is an unlikely belief.
However doesn't mean it can not be studied.
Self control, dedication and confidence is the mixture you need.
Do not wallow in self inflicted misery.
All it takes is you to make a change.
There is no other reasoning it really is simplicity.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC
I wish each blunt I'd smoke
would erase a letter of your name
from the top of my lungs.
You see, you've changed my name
to "C'est la vie, Darling".
My mother died later that year
so the phone calls addressing my forgotten self
stopped eventually.
Two Thursdays ago I had cinnamon buns with Hades.
He was such a flirt with
these benevolent eyes of liquid brown
mirroring my self hate
and bad dub;
casting me away
from your smell in my apartment
right before you wash the day off your mortal flesh.
He bought me scented candles
and invited me to where the roots are,
and there wasn't enough oxygen
to lit up my blunt.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Dear Gerard,
Yes, that's your name now. You'll have to get used to it.
Now that's besides the point. There will be a very hard time in your life.
Where you feel like you're not like everyone else and try to be like them.
Just F-ing embrace it. Cause that's what makes you who you are.
There will be people at different times in your life that will try to make you bad.
But don't ever let The Light Behind Your Eyes fade because of them.
There will also be a time where your thoughts get the best of you.
That's when you'll find the sheriffs of emo town.
You'll also find Patrick Stump and all of Green Day.
Then, in about a year or so, you'll find something that you didn't know was missing.
which is the show Supernatural. All of which will save your life many times.
One thing I want you to never forget is ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING.
Oh, one last thing, try to have a good relationship with your mother.
Apr 14, 2022
Apr 14, 2022 at 12:50 PM UTC
To kiss someone's lips
Or grab them by the hips
One must enlist
In the power dynamic
Inside every relationship
There are surprises
Of different disguises
I must ignore the lies of
Reachers and settlers
Stalkers and meddlers
Those who are aloof
And those who are goofs
The process never foolproof
When animals hide their hooves
I took that dubious bet
I thought it'd be fun
A game of Russian roulette
With a fully loaded gun
There were unfair rules set
That's how you won
A one hundred percent threat
I'd be hurt a ton
It started effecting my health
When I couldn't be myself
Because my self emulation
Amounted to self immolation
So I sought your consultation
For the vacation
Of placation
But you took advantage
At least from my vantage
I could see your rampage
Straight from the Stone Age
Like a time traveling mage
That summoned a cage
There was a pattern
We kept going around
Like the rings of Saturn
Until I hit the ground
You made me foolishly wait to test me
And then hated when things got messy
Now you claim that you're a blessing
For what you do after **********
You must be jesting
Confidence cresting
Never confessing
Or addressing
The emotional underbelly
You just like to undersell me
Saying that I'm underwhelming
I'm talking to a tundra telling me
That it makes me a better me
Apologizing not part of your plan
You tell me you don't understand
You must think I'm stupid
To treat me so putrid
My patience you've used it
So the dead weight loosened
Once I let go of your noose hand
You come back begging
You incorrectly pegged me
As forgiving not petty
I guess you never met me
Or at least said goodbye to the best me
After never acting on the behest of me
And making me think less of me
You've become a pest to me
Not part of my destiny
Just part of the generic sea
Of those I let be
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
Let me start by saying how sorry I am. I didn't want this to be an apology letter, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that that is what you deserve, and I never gave it to you. I built you up, just to eventually tear you down again because of my own selfish insecurities. And after everything was said and done, you still loved me. You accepted me for who I was, with every single fault. I never realized how significant you were to me until you left. I just couldn't comprehend that even when we were over, you were still what kept me sane. I would **** to spend a lazy day doing absolutely nothing with you just one more time. You have no idea how much I've gone downhill since you left. I know you always thought of me as the strong one, but lately I have been a complete mess. I can't talk to anyone though, because no one really knows me like you do. You doubted I would miss you at all, but I find myself thinking about you more and more everyday. The other day I looked through our old conversations. It broke my heart. I want to talk to you. I want to hold you. I need you. I just really wish you were here.
All of that being said, I am so proud of you for what you're doing. You're finally addressing your problems and taking control of your life. You've inspired me. I am going to pursue help for my problems with sociopathic tendencies and depression. I hear you're very happy and have found where you want to be. I also hear you're not coming back, and I assume we will never see each other again. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I made a huge mistake. I thought I was falling out of love with you. And I got scared that it would lead to me doing something stupid. But I never fell out of love with you, and I still haven't. I love you. I know that even if I see you again that you will have changed, and be a completely different person. I'm not religious, but I pray to god that you still love me too. It's terrifying to think that I'll never see you again, but infinitely worse to think that I will and that you no longer have feelings for me. I really wish I had come to these realizations before you left. I never even got to give you a real goodbye. So that's what this is I guess. I doubt you will ever see this, but I can hope that one day you will accidentally stumble upon it. I know you'll know it's about you. So goodbye, good luck, and by chance I hope our paths will cross in the future.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
Friends, family should be thankful.
Very thankful that many of us uses calmness through a storm.
Instead of reacting to everything that comes down the road.
We, in life realize many people over react to anything.
Which creates more problems then the solution of solving the pain.
It could be a simple word over heard and twisted around.
When the words that said were addressing common sense.
Which sometimes, you simply have to question the people.
Calmness through the storm of hell shows when you don't reflect back.
Cause that's the person they don't want to see.
Or come face with the person you use to be.
Calmness, a word close enough to be called peace.
Have taken control of your heart and soul.
To keep your friends and family from making you lose your religion.
So, quietly you remain.
Thanking God for being within you.
Cause there was a time.
When the devil use to rule.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 8:13 AM UTC
Strange, except true.
Some folks refuses to face the real truth.
Whenever asked, who profited more from racism?
Since Civil War and probably before.
We all within the real world know this answer.
Using the politicians present and of the days of old.
They craft legislature to hold back some.
Just like laws created to banned throw from counters and selected water fountains.
Where the water were the same color?
So, who profited more from racism?
Presently, we heard "Black Lives Matter" which isn't against any particular group.
But as with any controversy some complains and miss the point.
Which were addressing verdicts decided by juries in courts.
Where some are dead on?
And others completely wrong.
Then like a Four Tops songs "It's The Same Old Song".
The power that be always complains they being done wrong.
Without addressing, who profited more from racism?
Families with good connection.
Where their child should be serving time?
Instead on probation seeking some type treatment.
Because the power of wealth works decisive in those decision.
Facts, has been written and analyzed several times.
That white often don't how to handle conflicts with others.
Then when you bring this up.
Many use the reverse racism tricks.
Failing to comprehend many white judges courts decision that got off many.
We seen this in Alabama and Mississippi during the sixties.
And continue to in the present.
If up for votes whites would revert back to segregation.
Cause been on a competing level they finding out education truly matters.
Then they had better schools in the past.
And was the creator of white flight.
But history has pointed out during days of old they terrorized blacks during the nights.
So who profited off of racism?
Of course this is just one person's question?
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Heart
as we say
meaning it literally
and you do
hear it when
we speak
for the voice addressing you
is your own
though we know now
that the you
we are speaking to
is not the person
we imagine
yet we go on telling you
day after day of the person
we imagine
ourselves to be
forgetting as we tell you
learning even from joy
but forgetting
and you hear
who is speaking
you hear it all
though you do not listen
2.1k
How to write an English poem
Well this is what I do,
I listen to my dear friend "Jon"
Then I go about copying him.
He says Good-marrow My to Thy lady
I laugh & reply back Hath thee fared well,
Like I'm in Shakespeare's Macbeth.
I love how
He uses "thou" different then myself
I say thou in sense of "even though"
translations are must
to understanding my friend!
He speaks in
Cockney- crockery riddles
Yet some how I understand.
I doth not speak to make
fun of him
for I love his English gib,
I listen while learning
to write a sonnet since.
How to write an English poem.
I listen to Sir "Jon's"
witty sense of humor
His cloaked sarcastic'ness
as he talks in general,
Saying such this as
Aroin't thee & Blimey ole chap
as if I know'th what he means.
How to write an English poem
Well frankly it's a pickle of a thing,
I say I doth rightly know lets ask'th
Sir"Jon & see!
He say'ith to me
"change your ****** dialect"....
And
when he's spitting made
He yells
O' God Save the queen.
He also talks of frippery
& ask if I'd like a spot of tea
when asking me questions
he laughs & quotes
such things like ;
" cheeky" little beggar or monkey
as "IF" I
know what he means.
Funny thing is though
Sir "Jon'
never really
******* told me
How to write an English poem
(so answers to every-ones question- I'd say walk around & say top of the morning,
ole chap & blimey, Even things like Bristol Cities & things likes this don't forget your "TH" s
addressing your selves a lot & put emphasis on every other syllable & thing!)
Well dear Sir "Jon"
I am not a British Bolk
Just A YANKEE- New Englander
oh & a NuYorican
Ta Boot
So next when I see You
****** Friend tell me-
How to write an English poem !?!
Always Me Ayeshah
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 6:29 AM UTC
addressing my southpaw weakness...
don't know... my left hand is a bit...
weak...
started to train it...
by extinguishing cigarette
butts on each other knuckles...
have two vacant slots to fill...
and plenty of whiskey...
why?
i paid my Shylock...
i was **** with the Gorbachev
**** on my right shoulder blade...
now comes the fun part!
the lesson...
of boxing, with not boxing gloves!
i want the middle finger knuckle
to... hurt... the... the most...
like Tom Waits'
circus narrative...
**** these teenage girls cutting...
how about their start burning
themselves,
with hot, metallic objects?
how's that?
less blood!
ha ha!
two knuckles down...
two to go...
i'm giggling with anticipation...
while, i, eat,
the, pain! ha ha!
who gives a **** about
predictability,
preachers / theologians
or stock brokers?
so who?
the Turkish barbers,
the English tailors,
the French chefs?!
who?
the roof, the roof,
the roof is on fire,
let the ************ burn...
we don't don't need no
water let the ************ burn,
let the ************ burn...
i'm a simpleton...
catch the genie... catch the lamp
sort of scenario...
otherwise?
bon voyage / bon soir /
mon amí!
god, i hate the french!
it's like...
you want to lick them...
face to face...
and then... punch them...
my type of ****** nationalism!
comes the third knuckle...
and the cigarette...
it will be put out onto!
- like an interrogator might...
you show the victim undergoing
the torture, with yourself
prior...
and then?
torture the **** out of them! ha ha!
i.e. who's the buckle,
who's the knuckle, and who's the knee?!
oh please! please!
don't mention the oysters
of the elbow!
have some common decency!
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
*why do people always pain themselves to write as if they could ever be understood, when so few read them, and even a fewer number care to understand? and why do so many ably bodied ******* themselves with writing? why have they lost the taste for fresh air and instead chose a wheelchair that writing is?*
in legal terms - are you implying a play on synonyms or
just simply stating: d'uh, i don't know what
that means? ah, a limitation on the vocabulary,
an atypical symptom of lawyers - when socrates attacked
eloquence per se, he also defeated himself
by ensuring law abided by the law of highest eloquence,
and the rabble got diddly-squat, his attack on rhetoricians
lost the prowess of attracting debased educators
with himself the most debased educator:
and instead attracted lawyers... thus the law of the eloquent,
rather than the rubric of the least eloquent...
lost an eye for an eye, lost a mouth with it too...
i rather be fed eloquence and education
and coarseness to equally educate
than be fed a justice fed by eloquence alone,
because if this is to be the equilibrating case,
then serving justice will just be a case of speaking
in a satin tongue of readied rhetoric
as justice so called,
and when speaking in a coarse tongue
no justice will be made applicable...
i rather be educated by someone in a coarse tongue
than be brought to justice by someone in an eloquent tongue,
i rather not be educated by someone in an eloquent tongue /
i rather be brought to justice by someone in a coarse tongue
(the mob),
at least the coarse tongue is well equipped to
address the many who require educating,
unlike the eloquent tongue equipped to
address itself and itself alone, rather than addressing
the jury who blindly pass judgement, because
the lawyer's tongue is not in the mouth of the defendant
but in the lawyer's mirror of social strata of respectability
appearing so guiding, kindly tying a bow-tie of applause.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
A fruit and vegetable vendor,
simple and humble,
Always seen with his handcart,
alongside the road, which was parked.
On my way back
from the gym,
Bought the fruits and vegetables
daily from him.
**Neither the quality!
Nor the variety!!**
But his greetings "Namaste Didi" with that innocent smile,
caught my attention for a while.
That friendly gesture
made me feel familiar.
Balming the lonely and tired soul,
in the foreign soil,
in this city of strangers,
accommodating many dwellers.
While lost in own thoughts,
or busy in the cell-phone chats.
But this simple guy never failed,
seeing me come, he sweetly hailed.
"Namaste Didi"
Once, when I resumed
after a vacation,
Found dozers, excavators
busy in construction.
An all new road, footpath
for beautification,
It's the "smart city" project's
much awaited implementation.
I realized, that something was amiss!
"Namaste Didi", welcoming, friendly voice!
I looked for him all around,
Standing near a pole, he was found.
Neither cheerful, nor fruit or vegetable?
Uttered him, now the business not feasible.
Not allowed to park his cart anywhere,
As "The Smart City Mission" started here.
Go to the big stores now,
for the daily needs,
Roadside vendors
pulled out like weeds.
Neither friendly smile, nor simplicity!
"Namaste Didi" swallowed by "the smart city"!!
Do we really need a "smart city",
or simply a city?
addressing the needs of all,
retaining its simplicity.
The social warmth
and existing friendliness,
Accommodating all
with self sustenance.
**Isn't socialism, just a myth!
No offence, this way I think!!**
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 5:45 AM UTC
They called him The Ghost
He seemed to move practically undetected
Except for the destruction in his wake
Which made the people quake with fear
Whenever they thought he might be near
The people close to the victims shed many a tear
The authorities even shuddered and stuttered
When addressing and dealing with the crimes
Perpetrated by the infamous one referred to
Only as The Ghost
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC