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Arun C Jul 2015
I fell asleep
and trusted my soul to keep
but then I entered a lush garden
which I entered without a pardon
over at the far end
yes just around the bend
was a women standing
on a marble landing
her back was turned to me
and I could see
snakes in her hair
yet her skin was quite fair
and she had quite a nice derrière
I turned to flee
but that's just not me
she had the snake hair thing
but I heard that wow could she sing
a lonely broken hearted song
about so many things that were wrong
I looked again
around that bend
in addition to the skin, voice and ---
her body had more curves then a racetrack
so adapting my best tack
I picked some red flowers
by the big ivory tower
and walked up to her and bent on one knee
presenting the flowers I said see
this is for you
because your song was sad and true
she turned and said arghh now you turn to stone
but instead I said I do not wish to spurn
but stone is not really my thing
I can show you my yo-yo on a string
or perhaps juggling maybe a little mime
I can do many wonderful things if you have the time
so she pulled out a gun
suprised I said no no thats no fun
then I looked as cute as I could
and stayed as still as wood
I don't understand she said why you don't attack me
you are a hero and I am hideous can't you see
I said nah handing her the flowers
you are quite beautiful here by your tower
I would rather take you out for coffee and cake
so I leave the rest of the story out for you to make
;)
John okon Jan 2019
The Morning Sun ©


               Stanza 1 :

The short hand of my big,round clock
Diligently whirred the hour of nine,
And the unfailing sun - faithful to her calling,
Rose again to shine.

               Stanza 2 :

Arghh ! The tendrils of her luminous rays
Sprayed discomfort - exceptionally piercing,
The moment of silence aided the voices of
Chirping birds perching the leeward side of
A neighbouring roof,
Adding somewhat a lustre, to the
Unwavering heat that fortunately found a
Path through the holes of my crisscross net.
Unbidden,I refused to adore her glistening
Grace,
Wallowing in selfpride,I declined my warm
Expression of gratitude for all of her
Kindness during the rainy days.
With overwhelming disdain, I let low the
Fringes of a yellow transparent curtain.

               Stanza 3 :

Nevertheless, undeterred as ever, she
Increased the dazzling filament of her
Toturing flame,
And all I ever did was gawk intermittently,
At the grandeur of her charismatic display
As she waxed and waned delightfully.
Causing tiny,glints to appear on the
Edges of swaying tassles that adorned the
See - through veils of my living room.
Arghh ! There she goes again - her
Untouchable forelocks made me scoff : they
Were as deadly as those oily,boiling,spittles
Dripping down from the cut - tops of
Long-lived vulcanoes,
Which no man ever dared tame.

                Stanza 4 :

The sweeping swish of daytime into
Noonshift, shapelessly radiated those lines
Of light through the scuds of sheepish grey,
As indifferent as ever : no soul, dead or
Living has ever been fortunate to wear her a
Royal crown - oh nay !
I marvel in awe as I unwillingly did watch,
My poor, sullen eyes could droop at some
Point,
Inwardly jealous of her daily, scorchy, touch.


Jahmenmuze.
I drafted this poem three times. A great piece.
it is so painful to write a poem
...
a poem for you
...
the scars started to open again
...
is it worth it to use this dripping blood
use this as an ink to write
...
about you?
...
every line feels like
there are thousand ants biting at my heart
...
i cannot fin-
Arghh
.
.
.
Mateuš Conrad May 2021
at what point that the sense of taste before
subjectively exclusionary
to the point of teasing itself as being
synonymous with objectivity?

beside: taste as subjectively inclusionary
is somehow a: bias
for example in two statements

(a) the Indian-subcontinent cuisine
is superior to the rest of the world...
  
   (b) Baltic "sushi" is superior sushi-sushi...
sushi-proper... Japanese "mushy" - no shy-moo
in sight...

well... question is... what can be objective
about taste...
perfect example... pasta al dente...
no one can argue with that one...
pasta is either just underdone and therefore
perfect or it's overdone and it's
only worth to put in some chemo-tomato
soup canned...

you can also overcook rice...
objectively you cook without salt...
which implies that if you don't cook with salt...
you're not exactly cooking at all:
as i once heard: food without salt isn't food...
it's produce...

it's not subjective to say: under-seasoned...
but still... the statement -
the Indian subcontinent cuisine is superior
to all the rest...
since there would be an argument for
south-east Asian cuisine... Chinese cuisine...
Italian...

there would be but...

(b) raw herring with gherkin, apple and dill
in a creamy sauce on a slice of toasted rye bread
is... well... what's the alternative...
a slice of raw salmon on a cushion of mushy
rice dipped with soya sauce / a green horseradish...

(a) a curry is... in all fairness... a gravy...
a stew...
   yes... but what over gravy / stew has an arsenal
of spices that could match you
to the Soviet stockpile of atomic warheads?
even yesterday as i was recovering from (a propos,
more on that later)

i came about a curry base recipe...
most other recipes involved merely
throwing some Kali dust mindlessly at tinned
tomatoes with the usual suspects
of onion, garlic and ginger...
however many times i did make this
recipe: turns out there's a difference between
a korma and a pasanda
        and since i was defrosting some lamb...

- but that i have a korma powder in my arsenal...
it's never enough to just... use a "swiss army knife"
when cooking...
i can't stress it enough, for the base:
onions, garlic, ginger... carrots... a green pepper,
a red pepper, chopped tomatoes,
say... madras curry powder, cumin, coriander,
turmeric, SMOKED paprika...
and of "course": ground fenugreek!

there's only an exclamation mark
after fenugreek since once i followed a recipe
that said to use seeds...
the first time i used fenugreek... like the first
time you use... Szechuan pepper...
or a black cardamom...

and then obviously... some sugar...
sultanas, ground almonds... coconut milk...
the best ****** sauce i ever tasted:
but there was more to it... you can't just
throw Kali dust at a can of tinned tomatoes...
or restrain yourself to merely onions, garlic, ginger...
what if i were a priest and i'd frown
at garlic? well... that i know:
                 asafoetida (a fennel like the scent
of rotting garlic)...       anyway...

am i being objective or subjective?
          for me the Italians can't just cut it with...
rosemary, oregano, fennel, thyme, marjoram...
plus... the health benefits of turmeric
and ginger?
it's essentially a stew... a gravy...
but no other cooking allows you to play
chemist once more...
  and i sometimes do miss those organic chemistry
experiments at Edinburgh
that could sometimes last for weeks...

subjectively this... objectively: under-seasoned,
not al dente, overcooked, too salty...
too spicy... bland... but there will always be some
h'american comedian who'd say:
burgers and frankfurters make the world
go round...
yeah... and in Russia you have this
pancake fast-food outlet that serve you...
well pancakes... with caviar...
because you can drive a car and eat a hot dog...
apparently...

the Indian-subcontinent cuisine...
give me that... and i can forget the rest of the world...
with one exception: Baltic "sushi"...
that food is ingrained in me like bone
or a croak-and-gargle to a crow...

- but if taste cannot be subjective to be a "respected"
opinion...
then it's back into the robotic, objective:
edible... inedible...
and the minor-objective cues of... al dente...
spicy... salty...
   this whole "superiority" statement...
                                  even though the amount of spices
& the kaleidoscope of nuances
of say: merely fennel...
                          a tulip is not a tulip is a rose
isn't a rose is a blimmin' buttercup...
nonetheless, elsewhere: a tomato is a tomatoe
is toad-matted-o... hiccup...

which brings me to... the toothache...
this close to a second astra-zeneca jab and
i might be on course for a second round of health
tourism...
it's not like i haven't tried...
over a year ago... visiting my local NHS
dentist...

- can i register? i was registered elsewhere
but i neglected that practice
plus i moved from the Ilford vicinity...
no i haven't been to a dentist in over a decade...
but now this 15+ year old filling has come loose
and...
- we are currently not accepting any new
NHS registrations...

well sure, with the pandemic and "pandemic"...
so i called the emergency number
and managed to squeeze in a visit for
a makeshift filling that... if i wouldn't bit into hard
toffee could last me well into 4 months...
apparently...
but when an opportunity arose circa June of last
year i hopped on the chance to travel abroad
to see a dentist...
well... it's been almost a year & that one hiccup
when that tooth hurt again:
why have we lost out intuitively-superstitious
grasp of sensations? it hurt to the bone...
when my grandfather died and... what... nothing?
here it is... at it again...
a year later and i still can't register...
i'm guessing... another year to wait for registration
and then... maybe 5 years to see a dentist proper:
for the root-canal treatment!
or... get that second jab... ******* to Poland
to see a dentist... privately...
well... even if I saw one privately in England
based on the quality of the temporary filling?

well... the filling is still intact...
what came across as a toothache might have actually been
a gum infection...
but since any sort of acute pain first disorientates...
antibiotics all that painkiller sobriety:
mr. zombie dr. sleep...
after the feud with the brain passes...
after your mind has opened up to nonsensical dreams...
the alleviation of acute pain brings back focus...
tooth-tip below the berg of gums...
rat's a labyrinth clearly i don't care much
for the jab to meat-head through a moshpit at some
festival, or turn into a copperneck on some beach
in Greece...

elsewhere: simultaneously... a cacophony from the news
outlets...
when Christine Chubbuck shot herself in the head
because her toe was too small...
and a movie was made about her...
with the end scene of her being strapped
to a hospital bed... because... well...
she didn't use a cockcroach buster of a shotgun...
a Shasha Johnson... and her litany of race-baiting...
it's like that butterfly effect:
one man's toothache is another man's bullet in the head...
or a woman's in this case...
Christine Chubbuck wouldn't die from
that urban myth surrouning headless cockroaches
dying from starvation...

the list though:
      CLINDAMYCIN-mip (clindamycinym) 600 μγ-
the antibiotic...
    codeine phosphate hemihydrate / paracetamol 15 / 500μγ
      CO-CODAMOL...
and since this painkiller is prone to give
you constipation...
   something for your stomach-lining:
    OMEPRAZOLE 20μγ...
    
but of course... a curry would help... to get your
digestion up to speed...
3 days of constipation and a mere thought of an Indian
arsenral of spices... a whiff of them...
charge of the **** brigade!

- and for someone who loves food... chewing more than
yapping with a red-hot poaker of a propaganda juice toong'...
however est. or anti-est.
   one brain-wash less either side of the fence...
but i know which side is a rhetorical cascade
and which side is a mantra machine...
which side is grizzly-arghh and which side is...
boistrously waspish...

but that's not all of it... you'd have to be familiar
with the Marathon Man...
Dustin Hoffman, Laurence Olivier...
   whoever said all nazis were evil?
   Christian Schell...
               well... it's a joke...
EUGENIA CARYOPHYLLUS...
              syzygium aromaticum... if you've seen
the movie... aromatherapy? clove oil?
em... sure thing... yeah... it's primarily aromatic...
sure, the bottle reads: only for external use...
insufficient evidence to suggest analgesic properties...
hello mr. rat... hello mr. chimp...
hello mr. southpaw chubby-jab brigade...

time's for experiments... anyone and everyone to their
scepticism: what works best for you...
chance of me getting root canal treatment...
a drowning man will grab a razor's edge...
a drowning man wilbb grab a razor's edge...
because all medicine is beyond rancid beyond
chalky... i wasn't expecting the clove bud oil
to be... syrupy sweet mind you...
but as someone who wants to return to evenings with
ms. amber whiskers and the basic point
of the mouth and teeth: to ol' chew-chew...

lessons learned... waiting in line -
       to bypass the waiting game with placebo scepticism
of the otherwise effective painkillers and
antibiotics... but as a man who's irresistable
to any sort of agitation & momentum...
the immediately available: whatever proof or lack
of it there is...

in the back of my mind: it's hardly arsenic;
for now it's just me, the tooth and Christian Schell
and a song: 'if i had teeth made from diamonds,
             if i had teeth made from diamonds,
             i'd be on a diet of milkshakes!'
          
p.s.

original title: by
original "work":

bitter sweet
myopic
glutton

    anything to push through Eugenia & Herr Schell.
Susie... oh now... not Susie...
Sophie...
Duchess of Cambridge:
yeah:
i have the hots for her

google:
yupo me:
typo:

the woman who held the sword:
at Charlie ******* NAkeed HArry
oh Arry....
that's a ******* with
PENNY MORDAUNT:
what a poo polish shoes
no shoes!
one leg!
pirate!
arghh!
#yar m\y aye aye
my maytease!
MAy YaR!

no not Sophia Little Rudge Dtich...
ROUTLEDGE:
who J ooh?

             bomb  bomb crease
a comb
an over
a serialization of French novels
in Spinach Spanish: alias: Mexican:

MAH CONFRUNDO!
MAH *******
CONFRUNDO
MAH *******
CONFUSED YAH
MAH **** NTALK STREET BRUH
ITALICS:
MY GUNNIVK VTOMMIRD
END ****
BUGOVTNIK

HAG MEHHIDO!

1984!
SOPHIE RAWORTH!
Edie not you:
last night she was presenting
the news without mkaeup
make-up clown: project: clown:
so SS-man human too?!

i ****** your sister
and your mother....
but i kept your dada: daughter:
on the canoe: ****:
radar

— The End —