He pulled and parked the supply red wagon,
then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin.
Captain Red is ready for adventure.
A quest to collect the world's best treasure.

His pirate crew is renowned far and wide.
They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry.
But none of them boys has the captain's stuff.
So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff.

This motley crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings.

"Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch
and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche.
These rolling green hills are now ocean waves.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne.
Impeding the journey that just began.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn.
...
Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide.
They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie.
But none of these girls has commander's stuff.
So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff.

This brainy crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs.

"Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch
and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche.
These rural backyards are now rocky space.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin.
Impeding the flight before it begins.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn.
...
Boys and girls grow up and out the front door.
Those children’s games evolve to adult chores;
those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.

I've been blazing through these pages, a daily duty
Wit withered away with daily doobies
These ladies with beautiful names
I use to make use of any human, I met who moved me
But these ladies, these brainy beauties
With grace and ageless folly
With so much to give
And so much to take in
Plainly makes me amazed
And jolly, I guess in a way they taught me
Awe,
And to never waste waning words with
Vain and cocky tales of some form of me
I’ve felt, but never comfortably
Presented
Especially not to these brainy beauties
Jaw dropping dripping hotties
Hot chocolate melting on top
Of a fugde sundae
Hot and cold,  every sensation felt
As they enter and escape from me
The best blend
Blessed I guess
Nevertheless
Best left to rest
These brainy beauties
With grace and booties

When I was a little boy, say when I was six, my dad calls to me and he says: Come, boy – let’s sit in our courtyard; let’s sit below the stars and I’ll tell you a story. It’s been told long in our village, and passed on from wise fathers to growing sons.

Long ago, goes the story
Farmer Somu wanted
his daughter Meena to marry
the Strongest in the world
and so he set out on a journey
with his daughter
to seek the World’s Strongest One

And what were they going to do, little boy? says my father to me. They are going to look for the Strongest One, I say; and my father says: Ah, you clever son of a clever man.

And when they walked
past the rice fields
they saw farmers
wiping their brows
and they said:
‘My, how strong the sun shines!’

‘Aha,’ said Somu, ‘I think
I’ve found the Strongest One.
Come, Meena,’ he said,
‘let’s talk to the Sun.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu asked the Sun?
And I say to my father: Oh Sun, Will you marry my daughter? And my father says, excitedly: Exactly! Exactly! Oh , you brilliant son of a brilliant man.

‘Oh Sun,
will you marry
my daughter
for she is the Prettiest
and you are the Strongest?’

‘But,’ said the Sun,
‘the cloud is stronger than I
for have you not noticed
how often the cloud
blocks me out
and I can’t do a thing
until he decides to move?’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think Somu replied to the Sun?
Oh, you weakling Sun – I’m not even talking to you! comes my quick reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Weakling Sun
stand out of my way
and Oh you most powerful cloud –
will you marry my daughter
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest?’

And the Cloud replied:
‘But ah, I am not the Strongest
for the wind just blows me away!’

And what do you think, my clever boy, what do you think Somu did next? And I answer my dad: Well, dad - Farmer Somu drags his daughter Meena to the Wind. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘O Wind
you should marry
Meena who is Prettiest
in the world
as you are the Strongest.’

But the Wind replied:
‘Ah, you don’t know how Strong
the mountain is
for he blocks my way
and he breaks me down.’

And what do you think, my little boy, what do you think was Somu’s reply to the Wind?
Oh, you useless Wind – I’m ashamed I even considered you! I reply. And my father says: Oh how right you are – you clever son of a clever man!

‘Oh, you useless Wind
– I’m ashamed
I even considered you!’
said Farmer Somu
and he dragged his daughter along
to meet the mountain
and he said to the mountain:
‘Most Honored Mountain
I have heard of your strength
and so I have brought you Meena
who is the Prettiest.’

But the Mounatin replied:
‘Oh Sir, I am not deserving
of such a rare beauty
for the rat gnaws holes in my sides
and so is Stronger than I.’

And what do you think, dear son, says my father to me – what do you think Somu does next? And I reply quite impatiently: Somu takes his daughter to the rat? Exactly! Exactly! shouts my dad. Exactly, you brainy son of a brainy man!

And the Rat told Somu:
‘Alas, Sir
though your daughter
is most desirable
I cannot marry her
for the hyena is
far stronger than me
for he has eaten many of my family!’

And so they walk to the hyena, says my father to me. And what do you think Somu tells the hyena? And I reply: Oh hyena – marry my daughter for she is Prettiest and you are Strongest! And my father says: Oh you are right, boy! You are right – Oh you brilliant son of a brilliant man!

‘Sir Hyena
Most Revered Sir Hyena
do marry Meena
for she is Prettiest
and you the Strongest!’

And Sir hyena replied:
‘Ok. I ask for no dowry
just leave her with me
with no ceremony.’

And what do you think , asks my father, Somu did? And I reply: He left Meena with the hyena. And my father shouts excitedly: Oh, how right you are! How right you are! You clever child of a clever man.





And no sooner had Somu left
the hyena took Meena
to his cave
and he ate her all
skin and bone…
Ah what a tragic end;
what a horrid end…

And dear son, says my father to me, what is the moral of this story? Many, I say. But two are: Use your wits and stay alive. Never allow yourself to be dragged around. And my father jumps up and he is excited: Oh how right! How right! You brilliant son of a brilliant father!
And he turns to my mother who has joined us at the courtyard and he says:
See how clever our son is – he knows all the answers! Such a brilliant son of a brilliant father!

And my mother’s retort is swift: It’s not that he’s brilliant or you either. You’ve told him this story a hundred times, you silly man! And it’s always the same words! And I would have kicked my father if I were Meena!

1.) tizzop introduced gangsta poetry february 2021
     no man ever before created a poetry genre alike
     gangsta poetry, robust melting *** of languages
     and ethnicities, as it reflects the united states

2.) the idols of gangsta poetry are rooted in the
      underworld, blacks, hispanics, italo- and irish-
      americans, asians, arabs, germans, kurds,
      yugos, albanians, afghans, northern-africans...

3.) multilingual are the core, heart and soul of
     a gangsta poem: glockz, rubix cubies, 31er
     salam, jebeš igru, habibis, brüder, fo' sho':
     rapid months, frozen silverfruit, whole ones

4.) every letter of gangsta poetry becomes the
     side effects of our brand's real-life greed and fury
      mourning the end of beloved baby mommas
      deaths caused by strayed bullets that vamoose

5.) gangsta poetry aims to be published among
      all ethnic communities of the 50 united states
      deadline 08/16/21 stresses american willpower
      gangsta poetry scandalously hits us's curriculas

6.) each of the 194 remaining countries is urged
     to promote and govern gangsta poetry for
     the neglected, weighted with glacial contempt
     these males and females discover their kind in us

7.) tizzop established a saying: "treat every being  
     with an open mind, but fight back, baby, if anyone
     disrespects you, the gps, or our hangarounds"
     at war, we remember our families before we blast

8.) bar none, each gangsta poet is free to connect
      affiliate and distribute with and for the gp's
      brothas and sistas -- gps create examples of
      social diversity and historical dimensions

9.) female gangsta poets are a quarter of us
      some keep it gal, united sisterhood, astute flow
      in memory of leery leyla, chalondra, kateyy,
      mountainbird, ivanka cociç, ashima abraham

10.) genderfree, gangsta poets are chosen
        undertakings composed by thugs & artists
        the spirit of a few meets strife of hood speech
        gp evolved from a movement to an own identity

11.) restrictions do not apply for written creation
        strategic outgrowth and unshaken cash flow
        gp embraces brainy ones, and our soldiers
        narrators in conspiracy, art nouveau trips

12.) gangsta poetry admires the following people:
        jeezy, killa cam, toni der assi, iron sal, dmx
        anton chigurh, sigmund freud, rashid stoogie
        larry hoover, elliot york hp, kevin of allpoetry

13.) taktloss, luis fonsi, blockmonsta, all bolivian
        and peruvian farmers, te amamos, our brothers
        187 strassenbande, senion mogilevich, nirvana
        john murphy, dem dudes alpha hotel frankfurt

14.) much love to all global units, poets, thieves
        traffic architects, hackers, true skippos
        german bakeries, all-black betting shops
        jews from brighton beach, hispanic halos

15.) benny da bandit, tony tarantula, gambino, brate
        hamza al-mighty, fat **** frank, jens, das brain
        fred merciless, familia escorpio, ruben and levi
        ali firefists, kimbo slice, scarface, oleksiy, dejan

16.) daim, loomit, dns 1up, **** my **** crew
        berlin kreuzberg 36ers, playboys hannover
        yard bird 1955, taki 183 n.y.c., basquiat, level
        dbl ffm-skychildren, bomber, city mission
    
17.) gangsta poetry overwhelmingly shaped by
       our ancestors who boosted the poetry of ages
       train bombers, rappers, trappers, taggers, cutters
       we descent from them, honor their names

18.) gangsta poets die for poems that struck
        gps, fans and critics in a possessive way
        limits of real talk and boasting are in flux
        trance batters the face of reason, at dusk


                                          *


Once upon a time at March 22nd, 2021
Kreuzberg SO 36, Berlin, Germany...
Dedicated to all Gangsta Poets Worldwide

Heaven and hell yeah, disciples outpace seconds
Greetings from Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic City

Being brainy
is hardly the answer
experience has shown
it's the mother of disaster

Windy weather... lonely nights...crazy heart...rainy eyes...brainy poetry

I find myself sidewalking everything
So Silverstein was lucky to know where it ends
Will I ever be privileged to discover such a thing?
Too many trivial needs distract from its pursuit
But how am I to know?
When it's time, I only cared for my toys
The way the sheeple only care for their handouts
Do tell; if the Pentagon lays off 800,000 people
Will we know they're telling the truth about unemployment
When their words flow between mouthfuls
Of stolen fruit and gold
At the table of the elite
So tell me, who is John Galt?
I sit at a table with a mind that knows how to think for himself
And can't help but think this is the purest form of elitism:
Until at last the time has come
For the imminent end of all serfdom
Brought by the brawn of the brainy
How are we to keep our heads when the others ***** us over
Take our heads clean off to see the contents
Only the strongest can withstand the attempts to skew ideas
Upon who's minds the lying flies
Forced off by intellect
The simple last defender of God and liberty
Big Brother would have us not discuss such things
At times, I feel that we are the last in the world
So, tell me- if this paper is the last in the world, have we written something significant?
I've no doubt the world will see
The mistakes of society
Time then, will bring forth a new renaissance, with us as creators
And they, as the readers of some disconnected thoughts
Written at a time when the end of a page was a good stopping point for poetry, but not for the limit of government infringement on personal freedom.

we see the world as a whole
we talk to others like to poles
I'm sitting aside you just like a tree
let me tell you som'n, do you agree?

My entire life is all about me
my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be!
since I'm the stack of body parts
I consider this world like my heart

the sun will shine as doubt will grow
I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes
the more i see the less doubt be
and when my eyes roll out and blow
I stop and stare, seeing the lies
that was allowing all doubts to be

human interactions are contradictory
because heart and brain are different history
my heart for humans will always be bold
my brain for its knowledge will never be sold
so the reason of that contradiction
is that we're doing things in the wrong direction
putting our heart in interactions
brainy analyse the human nations
once we've flipped it 90 degree
human interactions will finally be free.

I see children as my fingers
and veteran as my toes
the latter have the wisdom
so I keep them at the bottom
so I can stand tall like Heroes.
Children are important so i teach them daily
I keep them accurate and let them work freely
for they are the essence of things that most matters

TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops
commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts
one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts
of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops!

know yourself and you'll know the world
cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd

I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired
I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired

Whistling through right ear, gusting through left
Echo cracks on augural bone; it pings
Cymbol's sound on gray matter case-hardened dings
But to detect life's ignorance, measuring oblivion's theft
Lift sums of intoxicant veils, that foggy heft

Pay no attention to whispers, as you would shouts
Know calmed speakers indicate truth
For shouters and whisperers be so uncouth
Those speaking plainly give evidence no doubt
For reality's validity needs repose to rule out

Guilty we are of attainment and forfeiture
Life lessons learned or not
And more composed freethought forgot
As always this burden lies on enterpreter
When judging please regard radius of curvature

One day at a food shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For the money, he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.

"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely cakes,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some snakes."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally brainy,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call zany,
The great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit beautiful.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty dutiful.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the food shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you, I believe."

"Cats, bats, you shall find.
Cakes, snakes, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to New York Market.

So to New York Market, I decided to go,
In search of the bats, I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling apples,
Strawberry in many shades.
There were even stalls selling apples
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather beautiful
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all dutiful.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some cakes and cats.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I heard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?

Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations,
blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb.
Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence.
Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary ****.

Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger;
Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father.
God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions;
Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion.

Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting,
"Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams."
Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro;
Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram.

Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying.
Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of
purest passions, paltry past pinings,
quickly quieted, quelled,
resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly
saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced,
terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor:

Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic,
Vanity,
woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's
Xanadu's
zeitgeist!?"

my brain
is bouncing
on the jungle gym of life
trying not to misstep
causing me
to land flat on my face.

There was a story

A life that I know

The legions of brainy

Flocked down below



They were gifted

Yet they were cursed

A mind that was heavily talented

But wrongfully nursed



Yes, they have straight A's at school

And seems to be tracking the right way

But a machine with a missing tool

At most, they are looking for a needle in a stack of hay



The action of nature

Easily creates them a scar

A sensitive player

Of every life's war



They were great at concealing

Their collection of pain

You can't even see them crying

Even in front of the rain



If you only knew

What's the color of their mind

Closer to insanity blue

Playing with rope, knife and gun all the time



Simply alive because they flow with the wind

I hope this simple note will let the world know

Hugged every gifted child, truly embraces their brain

Thus the legions of brainy won't flocked down below



6-29-2016

Mysterious_aries

from the plains drawings of smudging hands
and the palms of warriors
whose caves glittered in symbolic otherlands
flowing into yesteryears with shifting tones
abstracting melodies awry
in the songs of language growing,
from the blood of worldly pains
and passionscapes of grounded glees
which surge in transtemporal veins,

to the gifting of a poem;

cosmic movements
ever novel
in the constant flux of  fleshy presence
follow us in meaning—
every dot and cursive plane,
carries more than caligraphic feeling
beneath the graphing of our patient, formal, brainy gestures
(often blind to fools in Spring and better fates
of wholly kissing lovers over flower-oaths)
whose blindness in such sightly feeling,
graph so many moments black:
syntax, manner, unformed poems of wisdom’s grandeur;
stifled in the academic dust.

9:30 pm
above: praise gone awry. 12:52 pm
still, this universe expresses its possibility
through this minute verbia;
prolix trivia swinging by
the inquiries of existential mania
and the hope of solid, open value.

1:29 am

Once upon a time, there was me:
A simpleton of no account,
A dunderhead by word of mouth,
An addle-pate, a cracking crock,
A crazy who deserved a lock.
Not pretty, brainy, or well-bred,
Bespectacled, a short redhead
With hands too small and far too pink
Who’d trip or fall as soon as think.
Not many prospects, they declared
With such conviction I was scared.
But the cast was short one role,
The one who’d make the halfwit whole . . .

Once upon a time, there was you:
A lord of state, of high esteem,
The answer to each maiden’s dream,
A strong man, raven-haired, and tall?
No, not this person, not at all.
You had glasses just like me,
And freckles where your skin should be.
Your clothes were rumpled, torn and tattered
Not as though that even mattered:
You walked on set and came to me
You got down on one gawky knee
You took my pink hand in your red
And, as you fixed your glasses, said:
“I love your hands, your height, your hair,
I love you up, down, everywhere.
And I hesitate to ask you this . . .
But could I maybe have a kiss?”
And, for once, my tactless lips
Did not resort to stumbling slips;
I gave you one, I gave you two,
I gave every kiss I had to you.

Once upon a time, there was us:*
Two simpletons of no repute
Two dunderheads whose names were moot:
Prince Not-So-Charming and his *****.
And much as cynics tried to drench
The flames of addle-pated glee
I found in you and you in me,
As much as they enjoyed pretending,
They could not harm our happy ending.

She laughs, he smiles.
The black forest taste he could only taste at the peak of light beams
Her laugh seems similar, quite similar.
Her haha's outcasted the glooms and dooms
Just as the black forest melted on his taste buds when sun rays streaked upon his shoulder blades.

She cracked a joke, he laughs and nods
Intellectual is what they might say
A brainy maniac she is, who could co-host a sitcom
His Friday nights would now only be filled with her wits
Replacing all the beers and stouts for a while
His once bumpy and rocky throat is nil compared to the highly raised cheekbones visible during a good laugh

But one day she cried.
The guilt he carries overshadowed his sympathy.
Her big swollen eyes
Her pinkish and warm face which was covered in dribble
Hadn't he known?
All those time he made somersaults, he was drown deep below
He could breakthrough,
but was too mesmerized by the mermaid's blinking fishtail and scaly skin.

And she saved him
From being turned into a merman
Only then he was back to square one
Where her laughters, her jokes and her sobs are actually his sugar crush, his Gatsby gold
As always, she was after all, his soul saver.

There is a Professor Robbie,
who has a calculating hobby;
He delights in asking his pets,
with multiple inherent defects,
or not too brainy, to be exact.
If 2n is more or less than 2-n,
and 3x is same as 3 men, then,
the study of maths be banned.
With that Robbie will surely object,
for he makes a living on the subject;
He takes not too kindly our slow wit,
and chips away our esteem, digit-by-digit.
Equations after equations, he blast,
until one brave pet, at long last,
who sees more value in a candy bar,
than juggling numbers to solve algebra.
So Robbie, will you be ever so kindly,
spare the aging cells of these cuties,
singularly or simultaneously.
So loose no healthy slumber,
by chasing after prime-numbers;
And we who have trouble with dy or dx,
well, there is always graphic ***.
If you think this -- dX+2(x^2 - x*y^2)dy=0 -- is cool,
to make idiots out of fools,
do not be easily trapped,
into giving polite claps;
or stare at them with awe,
for they are nothing more,
than saying pluses can turn into minuses,
and at times even used as voodoo curses.
But Robbie will still caress them tenderly,
like they are his little babies,
annoying different people, differentially.

There's the eight of us,
So very different
But yet so much the same.

Each of us holds our special traits.
Our special talents
Converged as an octet.

Some artistic
Some scientific
Some linguistic and
All fantastic.

We love to laugh,
We love to tease,
We love to make a fool of ourselves.

We know there's one who's always there,
Spraying water everywhere,
But never lets people touch her hair.

And then there's one,
Who's buff and tough,
Her voice can change like a chameleon's skin.

Next we have this pretty babe,
Her furry stuff are fun to touch,
She's the gentlest, loveliest llama I know.

Not to forget,
The one's that's brainy,
Such a smarty that she can't type properly.

There's also one that I believe
She's really a mermaid in disguise,
Her actions way too ridiculous.

Of course we have this crazy kid,
Too many fandoms and too little sleep.
I still wonder why she needs her hood all the time.

And here there's another girl,
With real beautiful eyes,
A perfect actress for sketch comedies.

Last but not least,
There's just me,
I can't find a word for my personality.

I don't know how far we'll go,
If we'll still stay as close as we are right now.
As time cruelly marches on,
The day we'll part ways draws so near.

This part of me knows
That this magical bond
That we call friendship,
Will live on forever and ever.

Never did I feel so sure,
So confident about friendship.
But you guys are so special,
I really hope you know.

No matter what happens,
I see myself with you all forever,
And you all with me.

I believe in this friendship.
This magical bond,
That holds the eight of us,
Closely together,
Forever.

a blackout caused by evil daniel pederson



you see brian allan was sitting there doing his art and suddenly daniel pederson’s spirit forced the power

to go out just in brian’s apartment so he can tie brian up to his bed, and brian was trying for a way to

get free, but daniel had a hold on brian allan, and said, you are still a yeah mate yeah kid brian, and i will make sure

you are tied to the bed, and then i will leave and have them turn on your power again

brian was wriggling and turning saying, help me, let me out of this cage, untie me, please let me go

my power has been turned off, so daniel pederson can get the better of me, then daniel tried his best to keep

brian’s dad and family from saving me, please let me go, brian said, but the gag was tightly on brian’s mouth

and daniel told cameron goon, your not a cool kid, anymore sure mate, and then he said, don’t be a cool kid, cameron

brian is suffering through mental illness, and i am the cause, cameron said, heh heh heh, please keep his power off

and daniel said, i am dead, you know that is not how it works, i turn off brian’s power, i tie him up, and suddenly his power

comes back on, and he feels kidnapped and you cameron do what you used to try to do, because brian allan is looking at

his daddy’s next life, brian was screaming, HELP HELP, let me be like pat and chris, and daniel said, neh, you are trapped by

me, cause you are too woosey to write this out of you, and brian screamed, TURN MY POWER BACK ON YA ****, TURN MY POWER

BACK ON, AND UNTIE ME, you evil little ****, and brian remains struggling on the bed and daniel forces cameron to lift his feet

up off the floor, like bobby bullpitt did to ted bullpitt on kings wood country, saying, brian allan isn’t like us anymore, he doesn’t work

and brian allan tries to say through his gag, i work, and if daniel turns the power back on, i can work on that, and daniel said, you have

to work on this, because you aren’t like us, brian, you ain’t a man, brian your too shy to be a fucken man, and as daniel said that brian

was struggling on his bed, saying, i have been kidnapped by daniel pederson, turn on the fucken lights, so i can have power, i have no torch

so daniel has me right where he wants me, as brian said that, daniel said yeah, i do, and i will make sure you suffer for every crime you do

or any crime you have done, every time you enter a shop, and you haven’t enough money, daniel will put in the corner of your mind, to steal it,

because, brian allan isn’t a cool kid, and i want you to know, every kid you see on youtuibe being kidnapped is my spirit, even if it has adult spirit

you see daniel pederson said, he ain’t stupid, he isn’t going to let my dad win the battle, but brian allan was screaming HELP HELP UNTIE ME FROM

THIS EVIL SPIRIT NAMED DANIEL PEDERSON, and daniel said, you are with me now, brian allan, i turned off your power, to make it look like i have

you with me forever and ever amen, and once i have what i want, i will turn your power back on, and untie you, but as long as you never get employed or

always suffer with a lousy canberra bus service and as long as kids in canberra do as i say, brian allan will be a kid forever, never to be an adult, your only mates

will be the scruffy old scott and ******* old paul, and i want patrick and cameron to try and go, get ****** brainy get ****** man get ****** brainy get ****** man

in your head till you die, brian allan, you will suffer forever and ever, and my voice will say, keep teasing brian pat, sure mate, brian was worried that he was losing his

cool kid credits, and daniel said, yeah, you have lost your pat and chris credits, and forget about being like your parents brian, i made your dad die, so we can place

the words your father isn’t around anymore in your head, brian allan, if you didn’t want this, why were you laughing at cameron, no you will suffer, and daniel is having fun

putting in patrick’s voice, him saying ‘i am not ya daddy brian’, no, none of them can save you from me, brian allan kid, but you are not a kid, ya see, you laughed at

cameron being *******, i will make cameron laugh at you, you will suffer brian allan, brian was wriggling about on his bed saying let me go, i am like os, and daniel said

you are losing your os credits, you are not like your family anymore, you are still like your old fri———ends, budddeeeeee, brian yelled out, HELP, SAVE ME FROM THIS

EVIL DANIEL PEDERSON KID HELP ME HELP ME HELP HE SAID, BRIAN WILL CRUSHED TO BE BUTTER ON BREAD, i have brian allan with me, forever, where he’ll

hear the words, your daddy, ain’t around anymore, brian yelled out, let me go, free me, but daniel pederson said ok, you can go, but, i have the power to turn off your power

brian cronus greame thorne patrick dunbar allan, you will never be the man from albert waldron, you see you were hearing these voices from the days of albert waldron, all the

men saying, yay, here is big bad brian, but i turned off your family man, so you can commit a crime, because you, brian allan is a victim of kidnappers, from a kidnapper like the evil spirit

daniel pederson, heh heh heh, you will never defeat my spirit, heh heh heh heh

allow me to celebrate the ant
summer miscre-ant in my kitchen
picking up pieces of pieces "to go":
a crumb of Meow Mix, a crushed Cheerio;

applied the usual eco-safe spray
detecting this way too feint for they
amassed to quest their innate objective
exploring and toting the prime directive;

hymenoptera tents with doors
four on the floor: cafes of poison
for caulking the cracks in the walls hadn't solved
the stay-past-your-welcome guests involved;

soon numbers diminished but still a few
creeping through unrepent-ant
I swept thrice per day to starve them out
yet brooms are too thick all crannies to rout;

surrendered and wondered, perhaps they are teachers
attempting to bypass my brainy block
too thick to buzz with what the ants know?
I squat as a toddler to take-in their show;

for hours observing them (off and on)
until an implosion of comm-ants sense
challenged my globalized conception
exposing my mind to ant redemption;

the ant is now my writing totem
trouble though they'll be next June
within this mantra is what they knew:
one moment one crumb to carry and chew;

insight's relative I realize
ants have their own frustrations with size
but ponder the ant when writing time's little:
at peace with a piece of ant-agonist vittle.

I met a man the other day,
About 6”2 from about 2 feet away.
He was tall and dark and wise and uncanny.
And he sat with me and said,
“My name is Sanny.”
And he told me his life story.
He said some of it was boring
But the music in his voice was roaring.
He was excited to tell me about his day at work that day;
How he got that promotion
And then gave it away.
He said the other man deserved the trophy.
He worked so hard and played the goalie.
I didn’t ask a question.
I didn’t say a word.
I wasn’t going to tell him I thought he was absurd.
But he could tell from the look on my face
That I had grown up in a society of disgrace.
He looked at my thesis
And gave me some cautionary pieces.
He asked me what I’d like to be:
A lawyer, a doctor, a singer, the queen bee?
I gave him a look of perplexity
And he explained to me the power of certainty.
He said,
“One day, you’ll be something.
Because I see you studying here everyday.
It’s almost disgusting.
Now don’t get me wrong girl,
You’re not unpleasant.
But because you spend your days and nights in the words of your textbook,
You’ve become a scholastic peasant.”
And I could’ve been offended,
And requested he mend the words he proudly defended.
But his words kept whirling
Into the coffee-scented aroma that was swirling.
He told me his goals.
And how he’d challenged his superior roles.
He never asked me what my name was,
Because it didn’t matter.
He had seen my sunken eyes
And my complexion begin to batter.
He told me he grew up in Bosnia
And noticed my insomnia.
He noticed the way I looked up to people only because I was short,
And he said that I needed to acknowledge that I am my own resort.
He says he has a wife and a family,
And that he always feels the need to be manly.
But he looked at me and said,
“I’m sure you could lead for me instead.
I can see it in your eyes,
You want to be the one who flies,
And word to the wise,
Even Superman
Woman,
Cries.”
And he glanced up at me—
The first time anyone had.
He told me when someone sits down to enjoy the beauty of life,
It’s not so bad.
Dead in the eye,
He told me,
“You be bold, you be beautiful, you be brave.
Don’t let anyone tell you how to behave.
And when life gives lemons or a fancy promotion,
You think about what you’ve got and experience the lovely commotion.”
For a girl who always had a remark to bark or an input to inspire,
I was speechless, and needless to say,
Beginning to perspire.
I had become the product of my youth,
Which I buried in the textbook of the uncouth.
I hadn’t said anything ******,
But I had become a statistical number
Of those who take tests and write papers and waste their precious slumber
On ACTs and SATs and MTV and Tumblr.
Deep in my awakened blue eyes,
He witnessed the thoughts unraveling like a sneaky spy.
He implanted a plant of unrelenting growth.
Within a matter of minutes, he taught me how to **** out the most
Of the world on which I place my intellectual bare hands like an ambitious cloak.
He told me to stand up,
4’11,
4’10,
And all.
He told me I had a short figure,
For a brainy leader so tall.
He told me he was fifty-six and six foot two,
But he watched the way I learned from the world and wished he could walk a day in my size 6-shoe.
He then stood up and extended his hand.
I said, “it was nice to meet you.”
And he answered, “Someday, you will realize you’re more than four foot ten and you can
Be the one who aspires to be more than a fan of everyone else’s own life span.
And I hope they all look you dead in the eye and show you how much they care,
You look like one who breeds too much potential to simply sit with your coffee and homework and iPhone and wasted youth on that boring chair,
To let the thoughts you have roaming in this free wifi and G-D given life not to share.”

Oh I wonder if I mean pounding
Or maybe it's pondering
Hell what do I know, spelling isn't my strong point
I've always been envious of all those brainy lot
To see me you'll know why I can never be an alfa male
So its better I hide behind a keyboard and troll
I can't help feeling inadequate when I read the good poems
All I do is steal words and ideas then twist them around
I pownd and pownd and pownd till I drive them away
I am a  Pownder that pownd and get a pound for every pownding

I am a little person with a little mind and something else bothers me so much it leaves me with a Napoleonic complex
But I hope other men don't know about it but anytime I see a hot dog, wish I could just disappear and die cause I know that's one pownding That leaves me unpownded.

Excuse me I got a job to do
There's a poet here, I've got to drive him away from here
He's Benson or something like that and I just feel so small
Can never write like him and being a stinking bully and a Hater
I feel so inadequate and it's stressing me out, how good he is
He leaves me feeling so carri gibbanoius and useless pownding about
My job and aim is to oppose anything positive and good
I was born to destroy cause I can't do better
guess that's why I can't even spell an ordinary word like
POUNDING....
That benson fellow will soon leave and coward inadequate me
will rule with my mediocre drivel again or go copy from someone
and pretend its my work like I did at Junior High and college.

My good friend below wrote this to me:

Karijinbba › In His Grace..............

I hear the pownding waves of God in every day or written silences. I hear Gods loving waves in everyday's life's harships and struggles; even when God in his silence blessess, me in imagined lovers arms, and in dreams, when my breath away.....is taken.

He copied a poem written by me and improved on it and then
posted it back to me to show me how to improve on my work.
So I must learn from him and be a better writer
And stop feeling bad and envious about other people's poems
And writing privately to them to intimidate them and making
them quitting this site.

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don' t
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a *** to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

This is just a dark piece of creative writing. It is not aimed at anybody. Just a bundle of words! Before you read this I hope you don't find it too offensive. I think I posted adequate censorship warnings.  EVERY SO OFTEN I LOVE DOING A REALLY DARK WRITE! THIS IS PROBABLY THE LAST ONE YOU WILL BE PRIVVY TOO FOR A LONG TIME!
Thank you for understanding!

Tore  my eyes out.
Popped them on my plate.
Stuck your fork in.
You watched them pop.
You said that I was watching you.
Well I can't do now.
Whatever.
For a really brainy man.
You sure as hell aren't very clever.

You tied me up with ribbons .
You sat me in your favourite chair,
Tried to feed me mushrooms.
Gave me them in a witches brew.
Think you called it tea.
I couldn't see.
It was foul as foul can be.
Told me that I'd like them.
You said you didn't care.

The volumes were distorted.
My love he then aborted.
Left my soul ******* in the chair.
Tripping out like I won't care.

Jesus Christ
I was so scared.
Almost crucified.
Now my love he had denied.
My man of so black.
F**ked off and left me.
Won't be back.

Shut my eyes and try to sleep.
And only then I realised.
I could not find my eyes.
Just have sore sockets.
That drip with blood and weep.
My peepers can no longer peep.

He took them out a while ago.
So I could not see the way to go!

If this is love.
I'll give it a miss.
Don't need no more of this!

(C) Livvi 01/12/2013

One person is a multimillionaire
Another is a pick-pocket or liar
But all become one in they pyre
Mingling with the God of fire

God's gift is one's birth-place
Everyone, his sins will chase
God of death shows no grace
He will exactly count the days

Decide not man's worth by age
See whether he is in ignorance-cage
To come out, let him just manage
To help him, you have to encourage

One man is a monster
Another is an oyster
Yet another is a master
Let reasoning stop disaster

Knowledge if you accumulate
Great actions, you can emulate
Noble schemes, you can formulate
Let not the beginning be too late

Create, invent and discover
Pray to God for safety-cover
Scent-power is had by a flower
Your aims, do not at all lower

Edison in his greatest experiment
Faced stoically every disappointment
One day he invented the filament
Then light entered into every apartment

In this way, many geniuses were born
They initially walked on pricking thorn
Their brainy heads, crowns did adorn
They were proved to be great later on

Just go back in your memory lane
Had anyone thought of a flying-plane?
Wright Bros were regarded as insane
To mental blindness, they gave cane

By the Almighty, Sun was invented
By Sun, darkness is circumvented
By prayer, agonies are prevented
By sweat, our victories are augmented.

mvvenkataraman

You see after all i my mates laughed at me for being a little ****** kid

there was one friend called lyle who wanted to be my friend at school

and i at that time, thought this friend was cool, seeing i knew nobody else

but we had fun together, like a dream made me understand,that we used

to play basketball at the local courts which i thought was cool, and it would’ve

been nice, if my other school mates would join in, but we did play games

with other kids who dropped in, i just had a dream, where my mate the messiah

came in and taught me how to become respected enough to make it to hollywood

and before you say it, i know he isn’t my daddy, but i was a daddy figure to him

letting him stay at my house, you see we went to the movies and top floriade

and also to the national multi cultural festival, and the messiah said, instead of

shop food, how about you have multi cultural food, yeah, it’s tasty, hey, we also

went to each others houses, i had him sleep over, but i never slept over there,

mainly because, i have caused a lot of problems expecting to sleep over in my childhood

you see lyle came in my dream last night to show me the ***** cool kid, in the form of the messiah

he made the messiah, buy all these tickets to expensive events, like maybe a soccer game

between barcelona and ajax, yeah i used to joke with him, and we saw a stand up comedy event, and we find

that kind of thing very funny, but i heard the witch doctor who killed my previous life patrick dunbar

saying, hang on, are you the guy from the charnwood inn, and he told men to shut up, and i said

leave me alone, i am a family person, i don’t need the crazy demented witch doctor kidnapping my cool kid

the witch doctor, is trying to steal my mate patricks voice saying, i am not a cool kid, to make me too scared

and i really wanted a mate, and lyle was the only young bloke who gave a ****, like take me to bet on the footy

once we turned 18, but in school, we went to the footy and going over to each other’s houses, to play cricket or footy, and mate

lyle was a really big wild boy, he was, ya know a fast bowler and a tough footballer, and i tried to keep fit, so i can

outclass him, and i think i succeeded, but ya know, if you ******* a mate like lyle, he will get cranky, cause he has a

problem worth anger, we also slept in the backyard tent, where lyle said, i ain’t scared of the old boogie woman

but, i was wanting cool friends, as he liked the idea of going to bed early, and my family and lyles family all got together

and talked to each other, and i enjoyed my conversations with lyles mum, mind you, there were moments, where i was

scared to go over, because, i feel if i **** people off, i will have no friends, i remember me and lyle used to be big eaters

but, i don’t want to eat like that no more, because, i don’t want any blood clot, mind you i still eat a lot, but i write and do art

because i need to do things with my art, so my eating doesn’t get the better of me, there is more to brian allan than eating

too much, me and lyle were like two cool people playing bingo, and that was cool, you see,in my dream, my mum packed

a whole case of cakes, for me to share with all the young dudes at the festival, but the messiah felt uneasy and said i don’t want

to be a kid, he said he wants to fucken grow up, but i can’t understand why, he is telling me to grow up, and i hate the idea

of being treated like i am trying to be like other people, like my brother, i am like brian, just me, brian allan, i had fun with lyle

despite him being a loud mouth wild person who liked the idea of picking fights with everyone, but i have to understand

i ******* a lot of people, but this dream shows, all the fun times, i did a horrible crime, but i still think that it was my belief

of being greame thorne and pastrick diunbar in my previous life, being taken too young, was the reason of all my crazy person crimes

and dad couldn’t except i had a mental illness, and either can my old school mates, you see i ignored patrick at the st george bank

in the mall, and i heard him say get ****** brainy, like he was worried, why isn’t brian talking to me, and i said to pat, hi pat and

patrick went sarcastically hi brian, your brother isn’t around anymore, brian, we don’t have to be nice to you, i had fun with patrick

and lyle as well, in the new years eve concert to end the 1980s, me patrick and lyle went to the belconnen soccer club for the

end of the 80s nye party, and me and patrick and lyle had a few XXXX’s, and i got drunk and crashed over patricks house

and i crashed over patricks house, too much, patrick got sick of the fucken sight of me, i can understand in hindsight, that

i ****** him off, so i annoyed the mall crowd, and i was invited to a party, but because of the party i had at my house, where

my dad played taxi driver to all my drunken mates, and i wasn’t really a good host, because, i prefer the laid back lifestyle

partying out in the firehouse nightclub and the private bin in front of youtube, and i would love a televised youtube nye bash

on youtube, but they don’t, so i made my own nye bash, and it was pretty radically successful as well, i have still got my cool

jeans on, from those days, but i am a talented entertainer and actor now, and as much fun as i had with patrick and lyle,

those days are in the past, i am moving on now,

my granny took me to bingo too, my nanny watched the end of the 70s nye concert with me

i remember when jimmy barnes through beer cans at a concert at alberton oval, adelaide

yeah, totally radical dudes

At the start of life,
You can be anything,
Good or bad,
Rich or poor,

You can be
brainy
or
popular
You can be
fat
or
thin

You can
fall in love
or
break someones heart
You can
get up and go
or
waste the days

Life is a blank canvas
and what you paint on it
is up to you...

A  fool  was
thinking  to

add  agriculture
to  physiology
in text  book.


He  may  be
the  gene of  late
king  Mohammad  Bin  Toglak

of    India.


A  brainy
was  thinking
to  take
ice-hills
of  North  Pole
to  place  into
a    coastal   desert
near  a growing  city.


He  may  be
the  gene  of  late
king Mohammad  Bin
Toglak  of  India.

Not the brainy doctors that rendered on me services in many nights and days did gave my corpse a novel life
But when I perceived her presence,
quickly i rose healthy like Lazarus and embraced her endlessly as my prophetess and religion.
She healed the scarcity of love in me!

That's a load of lovely luckies
frolicking in meadows
flowers of sun melting mosquitoes and lady bugs-
don't mind except during pollenation season
need to reproduce
hard when you're dead
then you're decomposed
wouldn't propose any other way,
weighing pros and cons
coming up with brainy storms
thundering and enlightening as they may be
smell like lavender after wards
and the rainbows criss cross the atmosphere
like roads for the birds and airplanes
leading the way to another way
another then another
all together now:
synergy.

the fun times as a kid for brian allan from canberra




you see it was fun it was great, every single day

i went to the mall to muck around, and i heard

men calling me a great big ugly snout, oh yeah yeah, yeah mate yeah

and then i wore my screaming jets t shirt and i played my air guitar so much

and then i went home and did my washing, and i stunk of laundry powder oh yeah

and i came down to the mall and the young dudes said

welcome brian to the mall, welcome welcome welcome

and then i spoke to the music shop owner about all the latest music that he played

ya see young ronnie was asked by me to tie me up on my bed

i wanted that because of my previous life, yeah mate yeah it was soooo cool

and then i played with my mates, and chased brendan up the tree

and he said, brian, be a kid, don’t be an adult, oh no way

i said, fine as my brother was looking at me showing me what a starer looked like

i wanted to party, so i went into the pub and watched some kids playing pool

and they all sang the U2 song, mysterious ways, while i was watching

i didn’t really wanna stare so i went to the dance floor and put my body up to the gorgeous chicks

and we danced to songs like what’s love got to do gotta do with it

you see i went to this pub after spending some time playing computer games at the bowling alley

and then headed off saying men don’t do that, that’s what kids do, i might head to the pub

and i met some really cool kids, but i was a tad troubled because as soon as people

said go home, i said neh, i am still not ******* off mate

they used the words, ******* turk, so we can get on with our lives

and i said, i am still not ******* off mate, dad said, ******* coward

which forced me to tease my father heavily, but i didn’t wanna do that, it was the chemical in my f..n brain

like the chemical in my brain which forced me to listen to the kids say, what’s that, your like us

well, i might heard one kid say this, but, really i shouldn’t expect this

i like when people sing in groups, but dads not around anymore, the old hags dead, but i remember dad

said what’s that brian what’s that brian what’s that brian, i liked that, why did dad change

i liked the voices from mum, your like our fucken kids, but that was a voice from my brain chemical

i was having visions of my brother saying, you are like us, when i was on rampage on grabbing kids

but i didn’t want to do that, it was my crazy chemical in my brain

i want to find a cure for death, so i used my cronus belief to give brian allan the power to know dads next life

dad is betty campbell, i remember stealing some rope and tying myself up in a toilet and pretending to be kidnapped

i remember patrick, was my best mate, and as i entered the mall he clapped his hands saying

welcome brian welcome to the mall, i was the one that stopped kids tying themselves up on youtube, it was just me

i didn’t wanna be encouraged to tie the kids up, so i told websites to untie our youth, because it attracts phedaphiles, don’t ya think

you see in the wrong hands youtube is dangerous, and kids are only little, mind you, some kids can look after themselves

but i had to do that because kids were playing tie up games, which i used to play, but i don’t want kids copying me, but

it forces kids to get themselves into traps, and I SAVED THEM, WITH MY BARE HANDS

youtube is way cooler and i think FOXTEL really doesn’t have anything like youtube, and i remember in 2004 i said i go on the computer

and google a fertiliser press on it a number of times and instant cash from the internet money tree and i started hearing voices taking my helper away

ya see i had this poem i wrote, saying ….  teena totter teena totter 33 and there was this man from toastmasters trying to take my man as i was

sitting at the mall drinking a coca cola, i was being a reformed man, instead of beer, i drank coke, because when i was drinking i was a real terror

but it wasn’t all my fucken fault, ya see in the town centre tavern, a man bought me and him a jug of beer but he fucken tore strips off me forcing me

to look up in the sky saying god or buddha please save me now, and he fucken yelled at me, saying your not like the kids, and i saw peter sargent, an old

neighbourhood friend, but he died and one man was teasing me at the bar because the barman only let me do a tab just for a cricket match, i liked that

cricket match so much, but clubs don’t do that much anymore, i was having fun, actually i was having voices in my head about the canberra people

making me be an adult to a ****, sit there brian and drink your beer watch the families mucking around and then die, it might be because i stole people’s money

and ran off leaving him lying in the ditch, i feel bad about that now, steve told me, i shouldn’t have done that, and in 2004, pats voice said teena totter teena totter

35, i was kidnapped by a demon, and i made it through alive and i was crazy back in the 90s, the chemical in my brain was forcing patrick’s voice in my head

and i cheered on some dude’s kid and he said, ya leave my kid alone ya little mongrel and i started teasing him calling him a worry wought, and as he left, he said

next time i see ya, i will punch you, your not a shy person, buddy, but he never did, but still i have to watch my f..n back, but as long as i don’t **** him off again

it should be alright and one time at the charnwood inn, i was watching the choirboys, i lost my wallet and smokes and some **** grabbed me outside and i thought he was abducting me,

so i tried to push my legs up, and he said, ok we’ll leave ya alone buddy and i got a free taxi ride home, and i was at the ANU bar watching a band and this man started tapping his foot

and i thought he was cool, but the chemical in my brain made a little tease, coming  out of him, but i really thought that band was cool, despite me looking like i was jittering

and also when i was bowling as we had a club meal, i was dancing on the floor with kathryn and the patrons thought i was the coolest dude around, and i partied all the way through

bowling, especially when i won trophies, yeah this was rad, and i remember i was bowling back in 1990 and i grabbed two boys of bill, who was our player and i wanted to ****** them

as well as i went to the basketball and grabbed a boy near the dunny, and grabbed frank’s friend robert, it lead to tie up games, but i don’t want anyone like me, ya see

but i remember singing, hey hows it going, sorry i can’t get through, just leave ya name and ya number and i’ll get back to you, and i sang the whole song at the mall as well

as teasing the men, saying i am a kid and your a man, i am a kid and your a man, you see i remember having visions of being treated like a hooligan ya know playing cool for yeah mate

yeah kids, as i sat there, the forces of the paranormal world will take away my family person, saying, your not a family person anymore, you are now a hooligan, and i hear pat’s voice

saying, come on brainy party, and i said, hi pat over the phone and he always told me to look after myself as he hi-5ed me, but there was this girl named louise, well i got memories

of life with pat at the poetry slam through louise, but she got ******* when people yelled at her, my motto is, i have the right to go out and have fun, like a real cool kid, that i was

but there is a worry that i will lose what i have at the poetry slam as far as losing people cheering me on, but i have to stick at my guns at the poetry slam and read with pride

for the poems i wrote myself, and i like dad, but i hate the voice saying, dads not around anymore brian, i know that, i say to the voice, but i don’t think he understands me

and mcdonalds was my favourite food, until it made me *****

Hi my name is mahina tokotini.
Im so preetttty.
Im in ms1 im not dumb.
Infact im brainy and clever.
I received a prize giving letter.
Nooootz! jokez LOL
xox
4rm mar3e