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"beter" poems
Terwyl jy hom ignoreer, Trek iemand anders sy aandag. Die liefde val weg. Die hartseer raak minder. Gevoel van alleen wees is nie meer sleg. Ja jy voel beter, Maar ook maak dit seerder. Jy verloor hom. Hy verloor jou. Se my, waar is dit wat gebou was? Of was dit ook net n las? Ek weet, jy weet nie wat ek se nie, Maar nou hoef ek nie weer by jou aan te le nie.
0
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Verlore liefde.
Wat skryf die hand? Wat skryf die pen? In 'n kunste swyg wat ek so goed herken. *** loop die sinne uit in 'n meesterstuk, wanneer die muse aan my stiltes verstik? *** skep ek weer skrywes wat mense laat wroeg, sonder die hartseer en met al hierdie moeg? *** laat ek my digters tong luiters in die oopgraf in met 'n hand vol liefde raak my siel weer blind. Waar kom my ritme en passie vandaan , maar beter nog, met die koms van geluk ... waar het dit heen gegaan?
0
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
Geluk in-diepte (uit)
ek is deurskykend, transparant, deurmekaar opsoek na my vrede, my mensweesm my wees ek voel so secondhand, so op gebruik, so klaar bid vir verlossing, a trade in vir n nuwe vlees, nuwe gees, beter wees my oe hoop op vol trane on gehuil ek slaan lelike kolle uit in my sogenoemde persoonlikheid maar dis alles ek, ek wat my vervuil ek wat my eenkant hou, ek wat my uit smyt ek wat ja se al wil als binne my nee skree ek wat bly staan terwyl ek moes weg hardloop ek wat myself wou uitvee ek wat myself vir cheap thrills verkoop maar hirdie ek is te oud om te kniel hierdie ek word te oud om te glo so ek staan waar ek staan en verniel en ek bly staan sonder n tree en verloor kyk dis ek wat hier staan, te sad om te bid te seer om te huil, versteen deur my toedoen daar is geen hande vat en aansit maar ek dra dit met n smile want dis my skoen
0
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
dis ek
I'm sorry, I don't remember you, what was your name? Funny how you can't remember who I am yet you were my world at one point. An introduction wil sufice, my name is sea, yours must be moon because I'm steady drawn to you while you taunt me with your perfection. bless me with the smile I'm used to and I may give you the carress of which you've been forgetting so it may jog your memory. Do you still not recognize me? Perhaps a slight lock of the lips... Welcome back love, I've missed you far too much. If only life were as simple as the above described, maybe then I might see her. The soul of a butterfly, the heart of a pheonix, yet a love with the strength of a thousand hearts. She is my counterpart, a taboo to none but I, She.. the... god. My goddess of whom I've been missing. I welcome her with an open heart and a spacious view of her love. I get on my knees in worship of my goddess, only to thank the lord for her. My personal blessing and I shall pay homage to her every chance I get. To hold her, you can't imagine. She's the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of a black cherry, the softness of fresh picked cotton, yet ironically as cool as a glass of ice water to one parched and decrepit. I'm in love, no, yes, no. What's the conflict? Why does it matter? Am I not a the earth? Is she not a moon to me, or beter yet, an extension of my personal self? She satisfies the need for intimacy better than those before her and yet I can't think straight. Is this supposed to happen? Mutual love. What I needed, she provided like a mother and child. Yet we're still at a disconnect. She said we're romeo and juliet, did she not see the ending? or did that tell all I needed to know? I think not. She was a representation of what the heart wants, and the heart wants what it wants. Sugar brown placid beauty, rest your head once more on my shoulders as we rest in a sunset meant for the long-hall and discuss what is meant to be of our distantly close relationship. Pray we make it and kiss me goodbye, for when all is said and done no games shall we play but still bet it all against the odds. Do you remember me? Nevermind colleague, we are in a multi-verse all our own.
0
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
The Colleague
I'm sorry, I don't remember you, what was your name? Funny how you can't remember who I am yet you were my world at one point. An introduction wil sufice, my name is sea, yours must be moon because I'm steady drawn to you while you taunt me with your perfection. bless me with the smile I'm used to and I may give you the carress of which you've been forgetting so it may jog your memory. Do you still not recognize me? Perhaps a slight lock of the lips... Welcome back love, I've missed you far too much. If only life were as simple as the above described, maybe then I might see her. The soul of a butterfly, the heart of a pheonix, yet a love with the strength of a thousand hearts. She is my counterpart, a taboo to none but I, She.. the... god. My goddess of whom I've been missing. I welcome her with an open heart and a spacious view of her love. I get on my knees in worship of my goddess, only to thank the lord for her. My personal blessing and I shall pay homage to her every chance I get. To hold her, you can't imagine. She's the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of a black cherry, the softness of fresh picked cotton, yet ironically as cool as a glass of ice water to one parched and decrepit. I'm in love, no, yes, no. What's the conflict? Why does it matter? Am I not a the earth? Is she not a moon to me, or beter yet, an extension of my personal self? She satisfies the need for intimacy better than those before her and yet I can't think straight. Is this supposed to happen? Mutual love. What I needed, she provided like a mother and child. Yet we're still at a disconnect. She said we're romeo and juliet, did she not see the ending? or did that tell all I needed to know? I think not. She was a representation of what the heart wants, and the heart wants what it wants. Sugar brown placid beauty, rest your head once more on my shoulders as we rest in a sunset meant for the long-hall and discuss what is meant to be of our distantly close relationship. Pray we make it and kiss me goodbye, for when all is said and done no games shall we play but still bet it all against the odds. Do you remember me? Nevermind colleague, we are in a multi-verse all our own.
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15
Why must my lips speak A melody my fingers can play Must I weaken your ear When I can weaken your knees? Looks and sounds are nice But feelings are beter Why stumble over three words When I can double your pleasure with The featherlight touch of my fingertips Words are so mundane I would rather profane a moment with the Unyeilding touch, the gift Of all I have and have to give To live with you wrapped, no curled (my fingers, your toes), No, gripping my fingers Gasping the same way you did When you were first given life And given again To arch and release, to obscene The silence with the tell tale Whimpering of two and too Pleasurable If there were ever such a thing. I want to bring you to the edge And hold you there, begging with Your eyes, your lips, for sweet release For your hands To search for comforting firmness For something to hold All the while, inexorable circles Of a lover’s touch, driving the point Home like words cannot Your lips and body making an ‘O’ I don’t have to say it, not now Not that it would register, I can give it You can feel it This is spiritual, this is everything The apex of physiology, biology, Of romance Happiness brought in ways we could only Previously imagine Base instincts take over (yet still only third) Curling, my fingers, your toes And it’s so intense, so beautiful The three words seem so childish So understated Compared to this moment Calling for a deity a thousand times What else brings such passion? Certainly not words, sweet as they can be And it’s everything, Anything I feel for you and you for me In one moment One moment One moment Slays three words They’re one and the same I won’t say it, not with my lips (maybe later) But you cannot deny the power of The feelings And what we do and have done And will do A small part of us But for a moment, everything Slayer of words Crumbler of walls Screams and moans Pants and breaths, never to be found Today two years, and a hundred and six days All in one moment Tomorrow should you so choose One hundred and seven The words can’t hold it all Can’t hold what I feel for you But two fingers And many heartbeats can It’s a gift. It’s everything I have for you And I’m giving it to you For a moment, thirty seconds However long it takes For the breaths and the heartbeat And the moans to rise to a ****** And gradually fall Reveling in the moment, the Love We’re not fools No matter what they call it.
0
Mar 7, 2010
Mar 7, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
********
Why must my lips speak A melody my fingers can play Must I weaken your ear When I can weaken your knees? Looks and sounds are nice But feelings are beter Why stumble over three words When I can double your pleasure with The featherlight touch of my fingertips Words are so mundane I would rather profane a moment with the Unyeilding touch, the gift Of all I have and have to give To live with you wrapped, no curled (my fingers, your toes), No, gripping my fingers Gasping the same way you did When you were first given life And given again To arch and release, to obscene The silence with the tell tale Whimpering of two and too Pleasurable If there were ever such a thing. I want to bring you to the edge And hold you there, begging with Your eyes, your lips, for sweet release For your hands To search for comforting firmness For something to hold All the while, inexorable circles Of a lover’s touch, driving the point Home like words cannot Your lips and body making an ‘O’ I don’t have to say it, not now Not that it would register, I can give it You can feel it This is spiritual, this is everything The apex of physiology, biology, Of romance Happiness brought in ways we could only Previously imagine Base instincts take over (yet still only third) Curling, my fingers, your toes And it’s so intense, so beautiful The three words seem so childish So understated Compared to this moment Calling for a deity a thousand times What else brings such passion? Certainly not words, sweet as they can be And it’s everything, Anything I feel for you and you for me In one moment One moment One moment Slays three words They’re one and the same I won’t say it, not with my lips (maybe later) But you cannot deny the power of The feelings And what we do and have done And will do A small part of us But for a moment, everything Slayer of words Crumbler of walls Screams and moans Pants and breaths, never to be found Today two years, and a hundred and six days All in one moment Tomorrow should you so choose One hundred and seven The words can’t hold it all Can’t hold what I feel for you But two fingers And many heartbeats can It’s a gift. It’s everything I have for you And I’m giving it to you For a moment, thirty seconds However long it takes For the breaths and the heartbeat And the moans to rise to a ****** And gradually fall Reveling in the moment, the Love We’re not fools No matter what they call it.
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91
My bed verlang na ewewig En kantel as ek lê, My arm kweek ń onwrikbare Verlange na ń glimlag wat Daarteen druk en Selfs nou en dan Speels byt. Die ysere Koue wat Dwing om In my oop Arms te Kom rus. My kat spin hard op my bors, Duidelik in haar skik met die Wete dat sy, vir nou Op jou geresserveerde kussing Kan lê En met Daardie Wete Verlekker Sy haarself In my Ellende Die leemte hier is groter as net die Dubbelbed oop spasie op my Queensize bed en die lieflike geeste wat deur my arms gly En giggel Want ek Wag vir Iets wat Dalk nie Kom nie Dalk is dit beter so, want as jy my innerlike konflik ook soos ń kakofonie Van dromme Teen die mure van jou koglea kon voel dans, was hierdie leemte nog Meer leeg As ooit Tevore En sou My contact List net Soos my bed Geraak het... Die wind wat deur my hartskrake seifer, Fluister jou naam En flankeer met My gevoelens.... Hiers ń spasie oop Spesiaal vir jou... Mnr _. -ń tipofrafiese voorbeeld Van digterlike vryheid Verwar vir menslike Eensaamheid...
0
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
waar lê jou...
finally na jare se rusteloosheid jare van verlore wees, rond soek na my elke avenue na jaag, opskop en my kniee numb pleit het ek my vrede om jou om my gekry my en jou se safe place weg van al die jare s elies en disgrace ek vat my dae een vir een soos ek kans sien en dit sal n lieg proe as ek nie se my verlange le diep het altyd gedink as ek beter was sou ek jou verdien maar ek was te naief, te jonk, te blind het myself my gevoelnes verbied ek was moeg vir wag, die seer, die verwyt moeg vir die fluister van trane oor my wange en die verlange ek wou nie die weggeooi meer wees, wou jou weg smyt bang vir alleen wees, wou nie die faulty een wees, bang ek het vir ons ons eie soace create n safe place waar nie ek of jy mekaar ooit weer kan forsake ek hoef jou nooit weer te soek want ek weet waar jy gaan wees finally you can help chase away my fears
0
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
Verlig
Kyk met horlosie swaai kom wysheid , op een of ander manier... Wanneer hardebaard hardehout fyn skuur en boeta begin skuim pis- dan is dit mos als goed en wel... Jy's nou volwasse en verandwoordelik vir jou kak, vir my kak en sommer die kakbak... ... en dan mag jy mos nou nie bloedkook nie want daardie potte kom moeilik skoon en behoed jy kort van dtraad raak want as iemand nie aan jou been trek nie - wel ja maar soms kom daardie klein snotkoppie gees deur as ander "volwassenes" vergeet om die plooie die dag aan te plak. Dan draai alles terug en ek wens dat ek weer oud en koud onder die kuwe kon raak, want demoer in raak ek gougou vir grootmens doeke en dommies. Kyk ,sommige kak moet maar net kinderkak bly, want as my kinderhart weer vlam vat is ek weer die duiwel se kind. Dan draai ***** en giggles vinnig om en wys ek *** snaaks dit kan wees as mense val en seerkry. Laat ek nou maar asemhaal my das regtrek en heut... ek is nou groot, moet mos eintlik van beter weet.
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Grootmensdoeke
*een meisje wilt iets na een feest slapen bij jou want ze is nog nooit zo ver weg geweest aan jouw zijde sta ik en met meelevend hart zei je 'dat is goed' op dat moment zei ik 'goodbye' to my mood ik hou me groot ik hou mijn mond terwijl ik wil zakken me laten vallen op de grond als van binnen een demoon of meer mij aan het verslinden zijn negatief van de pijn ik voel me klein dat het goed is, zei je tegen wat? bij mijn ex had ik hier nooit last van geen moeite mee gehad nu graaf ik dan misschien elke keer mijn graf maar dit hier was een droom gebroken wakker is niet iets dat ik mezelf gaf en ik weet niet wat te zeggen weet niet wat ik moet doen misschien is jouw hart goed maar zo is onze **** laat het de onze blijven niet verpesten door een heks rampscenarios om te overleven bedrogen door eigen boven kamer maar om **** niet erger te maken is het soms beter te zwijgen omdat je de 'ja' hebt maar 'nee' nog **** krijgen*
0
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
'Foute' droom
Tegen beter weten in vergeten *** de zon haar schaduw werpt Op paden die zich uitrollen Als verwachtingsvolle mijnenvelden Genietend van het onheil Dat nadert als je erom lacht Verstandige adviezen sla je In de wind die door je haren waait
0
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
Roekeloos
Vechtend voor een verloren zaak Doorboort ze maar al te vaak Haar eigen hart Voert ze steeds dezelfde strijd Maar heelt de tijd Geen wonden Verschuift met elke stap op haar pad Het doel dat ze had Zich verder weg Toch maakt ze tegen beter weten in Steeds een nieuw begin Aan de reis Pakt ze steeds haar wapens op IJdel hopend op De zege
0
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 11:13 AM UTC
Gevecht
My klein Ouma smeer haar liefde soos botter Sy smeer van kant tot kant en gee liefde orals, wat langsaam versmelt in die deug van haar sagte brood My klein Ouma se liefde vul al die gate in die warm brood “Niks is beter as brood nie” Is wat Ouma altyd se En tog, is sy verbasend klein … Sy eet net die krummels en gee vir ander haar gebotterde brood so gesond so lekker My klein Ouma Vol liefde gesmeer
0
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 2:44 AM UTC
My klein Ouma
(W = Anonymous Elderly Woman With Sudden and Severe Dementia) --- W: "I was an evil little girl". I used to stick my tongue out at little boys. They would say, "SHE STUCK HER TONGUE OUT AT ME". Then the teachers would always say, "Young man, she is a respectable young lady and has done no such thing". So I'd put my thumb to my nose and make faces as they sat". "My grandmother always raised us to be "GOOOD" "GOOOD" and I was goood. It was so boring. They used to get so frustrated with me". "I was so proud of my father. Everywhere he went he had to fix people. He changed things nomatter where he'd go. He always said "I CAN MAKE IT BETTER FOR THEM. IT CAN BE BETER". He never loved me. Didn't have time. I should call him. I want to call my father" Me: "Did he ever self-actualize and realize that he was making their lives /his version/ of better? Before he died, did he realize maybe what he thought was better wasn't better for everyone?" W: "No. He was a tsunami that changed everything he touched. We girls respected him. Listen to me, hah. talking about such things, on a toilet. I have no dignity left. We have to laugh. Am I crazy? Me: "You're no more crazy than I am. Who wants to be sane? That's no fun". W: "That's right! If you can't laugh, you die". Me: "Earlier, to describe yourself as a child, you said you were "Evil". Do you beleive that part of the reason you were so "evil" was because you were beautiful? And you knew it?". W: She paused for a moment and pursed her lips in contemplation. ... "Yes." The woman nods a slow turtles nod, with both eyes shut and squinting and a pouted mouth. Her puckered lips fade into a smile. "Yes, absolutely It was".
0
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
Poached eggs on toast
(W = Anonymous Elderly Woman With Sudden and Severe Dementia) --- W: "I was an evil little girl". I used to stick my tongue out at little boys. They would say, "SHE STUCK HER TONGUE OUT AT ME". Then the teachers would always say, "Young man, she is a respectable young lady and has done no such thing". So I'd put my thumb to my nose and make faces as they sat". "My grandmother always raised us to be "GOOOD" "GOOOD" and I was goood. It was so boring. They used to get so frustrated with me". "I was so proud of my father. Everywhere he went he had to fix people. He changed things nomatter where he'd go. He always said "I CAN MAKE IT BETTER FOR THEM. IT CAN BE BETER". He never loved me. Didn't have time. I should call him. I want to call my father" Me: "Did he ever self-actualize and realize that he was making their lives /his version/ of better? Before he died, did he realize maybe what he thought was better wasn't better for everyone?" W: "No. He was a tsunami that changed everything he touched. We girls respected him. Listen to me, hah. talking about such things, on a toilet. I have no dignity left. We have to laugh. Am I crazy? Me: "You're no more crazy than I am. Who wants to be sane? That's no fun". W: "That's right! If you can't laugh, you die". Me: "Earlier, to describe yourself as a child, you said you were "Evil". Do you beleive that part of the reason you were so "evil" was because you were beautiful? And you knew it?". W: She paused for a moment and pursed her lips in contemplation. ... "Yes." The woman nods a slow turtles nod, with both eyes shut and squinting and a pouted mouth. Her puckered lips fade into a smile. "Yes, absolutely It was".
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52
The floors ****** up, the doors don't work, and there's flies, flying around my head I should probly fix the holes in the wall, but i say **** it instead. Cuase it's all down hill from here. No more saying it's gonna get beter today. I wish i never got that ******* tattoo on my hand. I wish i never met you at all. I'm thinking that you were probly right, and i'm crazy after all. Words are not working working, and calling you doesn't get anywhere. The thoughts in your head will never be talked about anyway. it's no use for me. it's no use for you, all it can do is bring back tears.
0
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:49 PM UTC
School Days
Ik ben bang Ik ben bang dat als ik het niet doe, niemand het doet Ik ben te kapitein, ik moet het doen Als niemand het doet, blijven we stilstaan en stilstaan is achteruitgang en voor achteruitgang heb ik geen tijd En zelfs als zou ik het willen delen Ik heb mezelf zo ingebouwd dat het niet eens kan Ik leef van hokje naar hokje Mijn hele kleurenschema af op één dag Terwijl er maar één kleur mijn leven beheerst en dat is Rood De kleur van falen en het moet beter Maar het kan niet beter, het kan alleen maar slechter De druppel die ooit de emmer liet overlopen is een zee geworden En ik verdrink Ik verdrink in alle taken die ik nog moet doen En dan mag ik ook nog het water opruimen
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
Drama
De beste kerst is kerstmis met rode wijn en gerst en nat en koud en sneeuw van goud dat, dartelend, de lucht kartelend, neer dwarrelt. De beste kerst heeft koord gevroren, zilver glinsterballen om de oren van de takken van de boom. Wat ben jij groot geworden, moeder, neef en nicht en oom, ze drinken koffie na het eten, doen *** best niet te vergeten dat ze nog moeten rijden, wetende dat we op de simpelweg elkaar met gezelligschap kunnen verblijden. De beste kerst is draagzaam over lange afstand, ondanks de periodes zonder elkaar. De beste kerst is nu, een beetje al vandaag en een beetje uitkijken naar die van volgend jaar. De beste kerst is schappelijk, aannemelijk tevredenheid, de beste kerst is profiteren van het feit dat mensen al jaren godheden vereren, zonder gevoelens te bezeren. De beste kerst is middelmaat, onwetendheid. Want zij zijn zalig, heilig, zacht getroffen, daar zij tevreden zijn met een trui of nieuwe sloffen. Zonder beter moeten, hebben, zijn, je wint maar niemand vindt dat fijn. Het waar geluk zit dan vanbinnen, dus laat het avondmaal beginnen.
0
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 7:36 AM UTC
Schappelijk
this morning i woke up, With the feeling i haven't slept in days. That my voice was gone forever, but i took a deep breath, "I can do this" thats what i told myself and I got out of bed, and got dressed. Went to school. No breakfast, no lunch. People were always making comment about me. "Walk faster, you're slow" Thanks i know, i don't have any energie. That's what i said in my head. "You're not eating." Are you sherlock holmes? Yes i'm not eating, i'm not hungry Or thats what i tell myself. "You look sad" I am, and i want to throw up. But i did not say anything "You look Fat I mean, more than usual." Thanks. Realy thank. When i got home, I went in my room, Cried in my bed. Got up, Took my favorite tool, And made myself feel beter. At lest, that's what i told myself when i was hiding the blood runing threw my finger. That's what i tell Myself.
0
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
That is what i tell myself.
Het is nu tijd voor mij om te gaan, naar een plaats waar het me beter zal vergaan. Waar dromen oh zo groot me laten zweven en de gedachte te dalen me doet beven. Daar niet eenzaam en alleen, hand in hand een betere wereld in.
0
Jan 10, 2022
Jan 10, 2022 at 10:19 AM UTC
Ik mis je
Ge moet maar is proberen om door een glazen wand uw hand uit te steken Of om uw oren te spitsen en door een betonmolen te horen waarover de mensen staan kletsen Als ge wa zit rond te zweven zonder te leven, in een zeepbel zonder naald, zonder een stem dan is er geen mens die erom zal geven als ge zonder het te merken heel voorzichtig en langzaamaan doorzichtig wordt. De zwaarte enkel te verlichten door de leegte te inhaleren in steeds grotere dosis en steeds gretiger teugen tot ge begint te geloven dat het zo wel beter is En al zout ge beloven Uzelf te verplichten uw ogen te openen Ge zout het vergeten en zonder het te weten uw leven voorbij zien flitsen
0
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
Ongetiteld
I opened the shutters to my window in the abbey at 5am and smelt the fresh dew on the grass of the garth below, Deus in omnibus, touched the old crucifix on the wall above my bed felt the pierced feet, Dio in noi e con noi the Italian monk said as I helped him in the workshop cleaning brass fittings for the church, I kissed her soft fruit but it was no apple like Eve's and I no Adam, there are some who want knowledge for the sake of knowledge but that is Curiosity and there are some who want knowledge so they can be known by others that is Vanity and there are those who want knowledge so that they can serve and that is Love St Bernard said, I watched as Hugh walked to the refectory grim faced and ********* his rosary with an angel at elbow and demon at foot or so seemed, à la fin du péché de jour est le péché the French monks said to me as we scythed the grass by the long drive to the abbey, I climbed her peaks as we lay in her bed, I opened the book by St Augustine which a priest in London recommended along with the poet Hopkins and I remembered being served tea and cakes by a nun who worked along side him, George swept the cloister as the hoover had packed up dat is beter het is rustiger a Dutch monk said to him, she spread her legs like a butterfly and said take and have your fill so I did,   nolite iudicare ut non iudicemini so it said some place in the Gospels, the price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men Gareth said quoting from Plato as we sat in the novice room awaiting Dom Joe, I wanted to sense God's breath on my neck as I bowed my head to pray but sensed only a cold wind in the church on a 5.30am dawn and doubt was born.
0
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 2:01 AM UTC
DOUBT WAS BORN MCMLXXI
I opened the shutters to my window in the abbey at 5am and smelt the fresh dew on the grass of the garth below, Deus in omnibus, touched the old crucifix on the wall above my bed felt the pierced feet, Dio in noi e con noi the Italian monk said as I helped him in the workshop cleaning brass fittings for the church, I kissed her soft fruit but it was no apple like Eve's and I no Adam, there are some who want knowledge for the sake of knowledge but that is Curiosity and there are some who want knowledge so they can be known by others that is Vanity and there are those who want knowledge so that they can serve and that is Love St Bernard said, I watched as Hugh walked to the refectory grim faced and ********* his rosary with an angel at elbow and demon at foot or so seemed, à la fin du péché de jour est le péché the French monks said to me as we scythed the grass by the long drive to the abbey, I climbed her peaks as we lay in her bed, I opened the book by St Augustine which a priest in London recommended along with the poet Hopkins and I remembered being served tea and cakes by a nun who worked along side him, George swept the cloister as the hoover had packed up dat is beter het is rustiger a Dutch monk said to him, she spread her legs like a butterfly and said take and have your fill so I did,   nolite iudicare ut non iudicemini so it said some place in the Gospels, the price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men Gareth said quoting from Plato as we sat in the novice room awaiting Dom Joe, I wanted to sense God's breath on my neck as I bowed my head to pray but sensed only a cold wind in the church on a 5.30am dawn and doubt was born.
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acıklı filmlerden nefret ederim yine de bir bilet veriliyor bir akşam giriyorsun suareye ilk başlar yormuyor on dakika aradan sonra saplıyor kadın bıçağı bir şey hissetmiyorsun önce teğet geçiyor kalbi kahkahaları ölmüyor adam, beter oluyor oksijen azalan beyninde Tanrım! ne dangalak kareler çıkmak istiyor duygular sıyrılmak derisinden ama imkansız seni de çekiyor içine mayıs bir sürüngenin dilinde yerleşiyorsun salon salomanje sandığın karanlık dehlize uluorta oynaşıyor kadın adamdan imtina ettiği günışıklarını bolca dağıtıyor evrene sevmek, sevilmek şehir efsanesi duygu yitiminde kopuyor kıyamet evriliyor bukalemun gibi benliğine hücreleri çiğnerken kalp atışların sevişiyor yabancı bir gövdeyle ne cüretkar bir senaryo işbirlikçiden söz etmiyor film senaryoda olduğu halde fakat ben görüyorum uzaktan yakınlar birbirilerine aynı familyagil, yani o da sürüngen hani şu arada bir köpek kılığına giren ve fakat adamın ifadesi alınıyor hastanede temmuz köpeğimi çağrın diye bas bas bağırıyor adam bukalemun onun yüreğinde... Vaha
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 3:43 AM UTC
Bukalemun
We zaten per twee in een kring op een wei in een weerstad die eens per jaar weer wakker wordt Elk van ons bewapend met een fles, een blik en een stoel. Het duo met de kortste drinkperiode kreeg een prijs aangeboden, allerminst een die tot beter leidt, gevoelloosheid.
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Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 10:58 PM UTC
Tweestrijd
We are breathing during fear This thing, I mean this guy; the destroyer He's here from nowhere The beter I can say we from the almighty But he came, not by peace I can say, he brought only sorrow and misfortune No pastor, no president and no doctor He enters every land of living He really kills, not **** but sends to the land of death We are free as by we are given a freedom, but a freedom neither him Nelson Mandela did fight and won But why not this guy? Nobody can defeat him Professional traditional doctors are failing He is very dangerous with no shame I mean even the unborns He cares not, he do the so called; ashes to ashes Those who with wisdom, are trying to battle but it still appears to be a play. I say, let us just play away because battling is the solution while in either way it isn't, so, let's exercise ABC (Abstain, Be faithful and Condomise) Stay safe and be healthy.
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 6:52 AM UTC
The destroyer
Waar ik naartoe ga met mijn leven? Ik weet niet eens welke dag het is. Wat ik wil worden? Weet ik het zeker? Natuurlijk! Alleszins niet apotheker. Daarvoor heb ik 4 jaar over 2 gedaan. Ik ben al blij dat ik mijn zwembrevetjes heb gehaald. De 25 en de 50 meter. Ze hangen boven de schouw. Ik heb zelfs nog voor de kadertjes betaald. Wie doet beter, vraag je? Ik vergelijk het niet met jou. 'De dochter van de inspecteur, die is ingenieur.' Heb ik dan gefaald? Had ik het anders moeten doen? Waarschijnlijk of misschien. Toch vergeet ik niet die tijd van toen. 'Kom, 't is tijd dat je verhuist.' Ik weet alleen niet juist of ik dat alles, zelf, elke tien, liever verschillend had gezien.
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Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
Een dubbel kwartje op z'n kant