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judy smith May 2016
Don’t take them at face value. Several leading actresses in Mollywood have shown themselves to be keen businesswomen too. So, if Poornima Indrajith, a fashionista in her own right and designer-in-chief of fashion store Pranaah, was the lone name in the list till recently, Kavya Madhavan, Lena, Kaniha, Shwetha Menon, Rima Kallingal and the like too have joined the fray to establish their credentials as entrepreneurs.

While Kavya owns Laksyah, an online fashion store, Rima runs Mamangam, a dance school in Kochi. Lena is busy with Aakruti, her weight-loss centre. Kaniha’s focus is on health care, as a franchise partner of Medall Diagnostics in Chennai. Shwetha, meanwhile, has opened a restaurant, Shwe’s Delight, in Dubai. Mallika Sukumaran owns Spice Boat, a restaurant in Doha, Qatar… The actresses talk at length to MetroPlus about why and how they went about it, the lessons they learnt and what lies ahead.

For Kavya it was the realisation of a long-cherished dream; of starting a business venture while she is at the peak of her career. “I zeroed in on a fashion boutique from several other options, such as dance school, beauty parlour, restaurant…,” says Kavya. “It was the safest and best choice because my father had been in the textile business back home in Neeleeswaram for nearly four decades. My brother, Midhun is a graduate in fashion technology and my mother and my sister-in-law too share the same passion. Laksyah is really a family-run enterprise,” she adds. Laksyah, which sells a range of one-off designer saris and daily wear and based out of Kochi, will be celebrating its first anniversary next month.

It was a photoshoot that lead Lena to open Aakruti. She had to lose a few kilos to get in shape for the shoot and her childhood friend, Louisa David, a physiotherapist, helped her achieve that goal. “I was happy with my weight loss and so we decided to launch a physiotherapy-based slimming centre. Louisa has been running her centre at Thrissur for five years and she helped me start Aakruti, in Chevayur, Kozhikode, in September last year,” Lena says.

Kaniha, always a multi-tasker, has a solid reason for taking the health care route too. It was the closest she could get to her childhood ambition to pursue medicine! “After coming back to India from the United States, my husband, Shyam Radhakrishnan and I wanted to start something. Since I couldn’t fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor and had to study engineering instead, I thought I should do something related to healthcare and that’s how Medall happened,” says the actress.

In Shwetha’s case, her restaurant was a venture waiting to happen. “In fact, those who know me for long are not surprised with my decision to open a restaurant. I am an absolute foodie. I am so very careful about what I eat that my cook always travels with me on my shoots. I also love hosting family and friends and often hold pyjama parties at home. That’s why a restaurant was the obvious choice when I thought about starting a venture,” says Shwetha. Shwe’s Delight [“I was called Shwe by my friends in modelling circuit”], which opened its doors last month, is a North Indian fine dining restaurant. “I wanted to give expatriate Malayalis in Dubai a different taste from the usual fare. We dish up a bit of Chinese food too,” she adds.

Being a celebrity helps, most of the time, especially to get publicity, say the leading ladies. For instance, Kaniha says she could bank upon her celebrity status to get corporate tie-ups. They also talk of brand value going up when a known face opens a venture. “There is a certain level of trust with potential customers because you are a known face,” explain Shwetha and Lena. “On the flipside, you are always under scrutiny. At times, I feel acting is much easier,” adds Shwetha. Kavya says it is not easy being the face of Laksyah. “I can’t go wrong with what I wear!” she adds, with a laugh.

Celeb status and a pretty face, though, is no guarantee for a successful business. All the actresses say that they put in a lot of hard work to get their businesses up and running. “The execution part was not easy, be it finding the right location, getting the interiors done, purchasing the machinery, appointing qualified staff, training them and even finalising the colour of the uniform. But I have become more confident now that we are opening a new branch in Kochi,” explains Lena. Kaniha, meanwhile, admits that she has learnt to be “more patient and be diplomatic.” Well played.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/cheap-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/****-formal-dresses
The letter was a warm invitation  and a perfect getaway I needed to lay low after are  brief rise to cult status i had partaken of the
rewards of semi obscurity and had a few angry fathers searching for me.

The big apple it called to me like a stripper apon a pole demanding thats all you got is ones you cheap *******?
My true sidkick  like robin to batman just less gay and good looking.

Met me at the station  Amigo how the hell are you now were's the bar?
Drinks on you right?
Cause when your a semi celeb slash rockstar of hello why the **** should i pay.
Why should women be the only ones to walk into a bar with three dollars  in there purse and get rip roaring drunk.
Besides if i was a chick id be a **** *****.

The stage was set the bar was filled with strange sounding people
all asking my well know  brother in madness who tha  ***** this *******.
****** good man im not just any ******* im Gonzo.

Beer on another mans tab always tasted better   just remember ******
im not putting out   well unless  you ask me niceley  or pay  me
like that rich old lady used to who  also was missing her leg.

yes what memeories id slip her a mickey  rearrange her  clothes and after she woke  up tell her what a wild night we had yes i know
true romance.

BUT ENOUGH WITH THE FOREPLAY CHILDREN!

We began are quest like any other  seeing how much ***** we could
hold  till  normal people began to make sense.
I work everyday busting my freakin ***  still it aint enough Gonz.
The angry little italian man who's wallet i had borrowed said beside me.
Hey a girls gotta eat.
Dear lord man you mean you actully have to go back everyday hey is this a gold card   your worse than my wife freakin ***.
Sir you are a charmer  what angry little people  lived here.

Bill lets hit the ******* im in need of culture  and some naked women amigo  come on im  drinks are on Vinny who gives a ****.

After bill  dipped into his life savings to pay the tab we hopped
a cab headed for Manhattan  to the place  of great myths and wonder
it called to great men from arond the world to bask in its beauty.

No not the statue of the giggantic woman  with a torch although i wondred  as i stood below her ****** why cant she be wearing a mini skirt.
You gotta love a big girl  she was such a tease.

No as i stood  tears meeting my bloodshot eyes
befor the mecca  the big apple and the home  of legends and playground to the *****.

Hey get the **** outta the street *******.
It"s Gonzo  man ****** how many times do i need to repeat myself.
Scores a ******* to the rich  a fools paradise **** Disneyland.
Ive been on spacemountian most my life anyways.

As through the doors we were met by a scene of true
art much like the Mona Lisa  if she were a stripper named candice cane  in red high heels hanging from a stripper  pole.

the drinks flowed  the lap dances were well you get the point.
I realized my two drink minimum freind was a little how should i say it poetically.
******* wasted.

As he tried  to give a stripper named honey a lap dance  
never mind him ladies he's my  ******* brother.
In a plan of true drunken genius i explained he was sick and
his last wish was for his older brother to hookup with
some   hot  strippers to have  ahh  some  after hours activities  
Who's ***** bingo.
how i love  bango I mean bingo.

Tears welled up in there eyes  thank god they didnt question why my little brother was 58.
Hey there strippers  and if they  were all going to college  then
this would be a ******* library  not a high  dollar  titie bar.

Librarians with there hair up short tight skirts and glasses
i swear you get busted for  having a little alone time on a public
computer   in that over rated book store for a second time and everyone  flips ****.
Society is so judgemental  but that's another story  
and court case   away.

The plastic fake boobie women had fallin for it.
So like drunken ninjas in a fog of  dellusion and wild turkey we made are last exit to brooklyn.
  
Hey  Gonz why do these chicks keep asking how much longer do i have.
Smacking my friend swiftly in the head had drawn the attention
of the strippers away from counting there tips and comparing there fake breast.

He's got brain dammage sometimes you have to hit em in the  
head to get him unstuck  ****** just look at the poor *******
he thinks he's not sick  oh dam life i need a cuddle girls.
Bill hold the camera.

We hit my friend's apartment like tourist slipping across the boarder grabing and  consuming great amounts of ***** and some sort of white powder  must have been for allergies.

Like squirrels  on acid  running down the interstate we were  
half nuts by the time that big orange ball thats causes me to wear sunglases did appear.

The ladies who names i cant recall  but honestly who gives a ****.
were passed out in bed Bill  in the fish tank  
calling himself captian nimmo  at this point led me to belive just maybe he had  a little  to much  but theres  many pitfalls on the road to Gonzo pacman.

Few men had the liver  or insanity of your's truely.
so after i talked my  tripping amigo off the frige.
Reassuring him its okay   amigo   thats what women look like naked.

I assure you  just cause they broke theres off doesnt mean they'll do the same to yours.
****** son why have a computer if not to look at **** and read long rants by insane people who call themself Gonzo?

After are long disscussion   about good touch bad touch and happy endings  we were off  again.

                                                 Ground Zero

                                        Silence And Respect

Standing there there was a shared  moment.
And a pain any soul could feel.
It wasnt about race or religion  it was about people
we all lost that day.
John Patrick Robbins stood beside a brother without a word
said as it spoke a million feeling's to the soul.

                           No one ever truley leaves there.

At the bus station a few cocktails behind us me and the kiddster
parted slightly hung over   and strung out smelling of reckless abandon
and strippers and wild turkey.

Apon the bus sitting by the window and some large man.
Who reaked of sardines  and  resembled a  cerial ******.
yes ladies he's single  and will probaly **** ya.
Wonder why he has a hard time getting dates?

As Bill waved goobye to his demented  brother from his own planet.
I waved back saying hey amigo  is this your debit card hell no worries
i'll keep  good care of it and reward myself.

As the bus left the station  my semi ******* friend chasing behind
yelling Gonzo i'll get you for this you freakin *******.
Kidster  that hurt i yelled but not as much as it's gonna hurt you bank account cheers.

That guy in black is ******  you  better watch out he's probaly connected.
No worries my funny smelling oversized friend
so am i replied.
I have the internet as well.

Bound for parts unknown Gonzo  made many stops
and if not for legal reason's  id share most of them.
Yes as i sat apon the beach  after taking a little side trip to Florida.
Drink in hand lost in deep thought's for which i cant remember.
      
Reflecting apon my time in the big apple.
And my friend the Kiddster
A toast to my friend.
Hope you like the post card  and the three week vacation
i treated myself to.

Sorry about the whole life savings thing but
who needs to retire in there 80's  work will keep you young girlfriend.

Cheers your slightly insane friend Gonzo.
As in most my writes  this is based on a slightly sober true story
except  for the stealing his credit cards  cause that would be a admission of guilt  and stealing is wrong of course i mean.

Stay crazy Forever Gonzo

And oh yes my friends Billy the  Kiddster is also on hello and if you liked the thirty year old ******  then check out the well really ******* older one.
And Bill no need to thank me  you know i always got your  back  and your pin number.   Fin  amigo
JadedSoul Sep 2014
My life is closely guarded
people see my face, know my name
but the real world doesn't know me,
they only see my careful mask

Yet, here I write
I publish poems,
My deepest, raw emotion
splayed open for all to see!

In the real world people see me,
But here I'm naked,
exposed for all to see and know,
like a celeb with **** photos
on their iCloud
What a fool I must be!
judy smith Jul 2016
Meeting a renowned Pinoy designer, Michael Cinco, was the highlight of my nth trip to Dubai last month. He is so unassuming that I almost forgot how famous he is. Some of his A-list Hollywood clientele include Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Jennifer Lopez, Kylie Minogue, Mila Kunis, Paris Hilton, Tyra Banks, Rihanna, Toni Braxton, Fergie, Nicole Scherzinger and Christina Aguilera.

Michael’s regular clients are Anne Curtis, Marian Rivera-Dantes, Kathryn

Bernardo, Liza Soberano, Ruffa Gutierrez and Bea Alonzo.

Miriam Quiambao and I immensely enjoyed bonding with Michael. He treated us to an authentic Lebanese dinner at the resto below his plush condominium right across the world’s tallest building, Burj Khalifa. Kudos to Michael for being the only Filipino designer who was invited to present his collection at the Paris Haute Couture Fashion Week’s “Couturissimo,” held last July 3.

He’s world-class yet down-to-earth. That makes him all the more remarkable. Pinoy Pride is something Michael wears so well. CincOoh la la! (Visit michaelcinco.com.)

Here’s my chat (via Facebook) with Michael:

What was the Paris Fashion week experience like?

About 15 years ago I was strolling along the beautiful Jardin des Tuileries. I was so in love with the place that I had a vision and a dream… I said to myself, one of these days I’ll have my show in this stunning garden. So when Asian Couture Federation approached me to have a show in Paris, I immediately begged to hold it in Jardin des Tuileries. Showing my collection in Paris Haute Couture Fashion Week has always been my ultimate dream. Seeing your collection on the runway of your dream garden is one of the greatest achievements in my life.

Among local celebs, who are the five best-dressed on your list?

Marian Rivera, Anne Curtis, Cherie Gil, Kathryn Bernardo and Liza Soberano. They all wore my couture dresses and they all looked amazing.

Any memorable moment with the celebs?

To be honest, I never met any of them. I dressed up some of the most beautiful Filipino Celebrities and Hollywood celebrities wore my clothes on the red carpet and in their music videos. When the producers of the movie “Jupiter Ascending” asked me to go to London to meet Mila Kunis and Channing Tatum, I declined because I was too shy to meet them. The stylist of Jennifer Lopez asked me to meet her backstage. Also, the manager of Kylie Minogue asked me to go to her room for fitting but I just sent my assistant because I was scared and shy.

Who is the easiest celeb to dress up?

Most of them are easy to dress up because they all look fabulous in my couture dresses.

What are your three fashion do’s and don’t’s?

Do’s: Be yourself; create your own style; wear something that will make you feel confident.

Don’t’s: Don’t wear a dress two sizes smaller than your body; don’t follow someone else’s style; don’t try to achieve what you see in glossy magazines—they are all photoshopped!

If you were asked to design an outfit for President Duterte, what would it be like?

A bullet-proof couture barong.

What’s your advice to aspiring designers?

Young designers of today should realize that fashion is not all about glamour. The fashion world is very cruel. You will be judged, criticized and rejected.

It takes hard work, patience and strong determination to achieve your goals. Create clothes that people will wear. If you want to create art on clothes, make sure they will sell.

Lastly, be humble and never give up. Believe that anything in this world is possible. Believe in your dreams and if you have faith and confidence in God, all of your impalpable dreams will come true.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Brycical Sep 2013
For years I've been trying to write
something that would cause the earth to shake--
maybe even slightly tip it off its axis.
Not because it possesses any eloquent grandeur
with words like "cataclysm" or "surreptitious"
nor due to any celeb-ritory status
that may befall my unkempt and ghostly pale person.

                      I just want people to think!

From the moment most of us
are pushed from our mother's dark, watery womb
it's like we're given a hardhat and a pick,
then told to find some gold in the mine
because if you want to keep working in the mine
you have to pay
and then as we try to explain that we're uneducated about mining
because we were just birthed we are told not to worry
because there are teachers who will educate us about the mine
and every so many days we're tested on what we learned about the mine
all the while being told to forget not about the gold in the mine
and sometimes we get a little tired or bored of looking for gold
so we're given a book to read about some guy named Mr. Brahmallah Siddhartahweh Christ
along with a few cigarettes, beer and lunch meat to relax
for a few minutes before it's time to get back to work to look for gold in the mine
to pay to look for gold in the mine
and lord help you if you can't pay to work in the mine because you need to work in the mine
to work in the mine.

                                                      Confused?­ That's the point...
Now, the metaphor above is a crude illustration
of what I'm talking about,
but I have confidence you understand what's gnawing at me,
AND what should be at you too.

                     Where is there time to think??

Even in scientific and philosophical occupations
there isn't much thinking these days.
Many take science as law
the same way extreme, right wingers from any religion
take their "religious doctrine" as law.
Our politics, technology and even reading is polluted
with derision and division into different schools of thought
from a Conservative Team Edward Apple supporting Griffendor Christian
to a Liberal Hufflepuff PC using Team Jacob Buddhist.
Now I understand why all these new agers
keep referencing The Matrix.

                           WHAT IS REAL!?
That must be a decent explanation as why people go insane;
suffocating on all the weighty labels
forcefully pinned to their soul.

And yet...
more people, like me,
are desperately clawing away at these labels,
attempting to find a little fresh air,
perhaps filled with the smell of paint,
graphite, charcoal, clay, **** and natural body pheromones
while sounds of music, chanting, cheers, sobbing, silence, giggling and *******
echo in the breathing room
as we feel the grass beneath our feet, wind matriculating through our hair, another warm and loving body embracing ours with cool water trickling down our backs...
People like me
wishing to be metaphorically, figuratively, theologically and psychologically digambara  
subconsciously evolving from sadhu to avadhuta
          preaching anekantavada
           while simultaneously revealing it all stems from ONE!

But...
many of us are caught in a dilemma best expressed by E.B. White:

[Arising] in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world, [making] it hard to plan the day.

These days, to the masses working in the mine,
if you're trying to improve the world you're a kook or a traitor,
just ask the SnowMannings.
If you try enjoying the world you're labeled lazy.
We all just want to be       FREE!!

Of course, Bill Hicks once said,
If you think you're free, trying going somewhere without ******* money.  

And when you THINK about that,
you start to get confused, right?
Maybe your head starts to hurt, right?
Because when you THINK about that,
and all the supposed enlightened people
from Siddhārtha Gautama who resigned from his royal trappings
to Yeshua HaNotzri who renounced material possessions with a needle
while the passive warrior Mahatma Gandhi thought western civilization a good idea.

Why are most children discouraged from being artists, farmers and the next far out thinkers?
Because      there’s        no          money        in         ­ it!  
Again, we’re back in the mine looking for gold.
But what would happen if you stopped?
What would happen if you got in the mine cart and said “**** it,”
then went careening down the shaft,
whirling and twirling faster and faster enjoying the ride!

But now I’m positioned in another quandary;
                       SOLUTIONS!  

While people like myself may have a few ideas
I think they are impossible to share at the moment
Because the majority of the population is too lazy
and complacent to do anything.
First we need to awaken!
First we have to get mad like Howard Beale!
We have to collectively reject the current frequency
and do like Tim Leary where we “turn on, tune in and drop out.”

Ok,
Let’s take five,
maybe more.
And when we reunite
let’s hash out some solutions,
**** out what does and doesn’t work.
If you like this, please share.
Verdae Geissler Jun 2013
This is one of the great memories I have of the, rare but precious, moments I spent with my daddy. I was all of,maybe, six years old. And this is how it went dow that night...

It was during a wedding party for my dad’s good friend Billy Phibin, where he and I would pull off more than a couple of our wonderfully delicious pranks.  Mostly though, we would put to test our excellent skill in ******* off his wife, while amusing all the  wedding guests. And with a style all our own,  we would leave our  mark on a couple of “celebutants” of the New York, Atlanta art scene. My dad and I were quite a team.
I am sure we left our mark, to this very day, on those silly chicks!

As I recall,  one of the two, along with a terrible fake British accent, and some funky 70′s, pre-punk eclectic outfit, was wearing this pair of truly, unforgettable, green sunglasses.
...The kind that would put ol’ Elton to shame!

My dad and I,  when we weren’t throwing bricks, with Harold Kelling, off the top of the old Atlanta warehouse, followed the two celebutants around the party, heckling them through out the night.
...Or, when we weren't reaching for the neon coca cola sign, which seemed so close I thought we might actually be able to touch it, we razzed and heckled the crowd.

The warehouse seemed more like a huge tree house, full of everything wonderful and exciting, than a downtown loft, in the worst neighborhood possible, and where a man might actually be mugged and left for dead in the street!

My dad and I had indulged ourselves in all the boring fun we could stand at this point. Plus, the celeb chicks were getting ready to leave.  So we set our mischief into action.
It was crazy.
Like syncronicity.
...We never planned a thing,  yet we both knew what the plan was, and what the next move was going to be.
So like we were one entity, and in unison, we followed those two chicks to their swank little antique convertible, where we inevitably ended up, absolutely, tricking one of those silly chicks out of her “funky green sun glasses”!  
Not to mention her phone number, for my dad, no less!
My daddy and I were on a roll!
We laughed and laughed as I put them on, then ran.
Wearing those funky green sunglasses!                                  
"Well, that was fun!", my dad exclaimed.
"What's next Daddy?", I screamed with delight!
With a wink and a smile, we were off again....
That is when we really did it up!
We threw it all to the wind!
..and the real fun began!
Hell, we were already in deep **** with Linda Phibin and Da Mama!
....why not have some REAL fun!

...So, as we watched the little antique sporty speed off into the distance, my dad and I set our plan into action...

Let me take a moment to explain the entrance to this loft. It had a very narrow and steep stairway, which led, abruptly, to the sidewalk outside.
So if a man were to loose his balance, it would pretty much be over!

Back to the scene of the crime...

I will, again, note that this staircase was very narrow, steep, and old.

If a man were to fall, he would, inevitably,
land, face first, onto the ***** sidewalk.

...As my dad got busy positioning himself to look as if he'd fallen down the staircase.
He went on to position his face and wine cup just right...
... with them both spilling out onto the sidewalk...!

Now, my job was to sneak back in to the loft's tiny kitchen to get some "blood" for around his mouth and hand.
Off I went...
... I sneaked past the front room, then past the swing, onto the kitchen, people smiling at me the whole way.
... never knowing what was up my sleave...
Finally, I arrived in the cramped little kitchen.
I proceeded, in stealth mode, on to the fridge for ketchup.

Hah! mission accomplished!

I was headed back to the scene, when the
bride caught me by the arm, as she was mixing up some drinks.
She smiled and winked.
...I will always think, because she knew my dad,
and by reading the look on my face, as I stood there with her bottle of ketchup in hand,
she secretly loved whatever  it was, we were up to!
So she gave me the go ahead with then nudge of her chin. T
Then off  I was, once again!
We proceeded to put the finishing touches on our grotesque scene....
... A scene that would most probably now, cause, even, me to have a heart attack,
were I to come upon it!
As I reached my dad, who was all sprawled acroos and down the stairway, I screamed, in my kid voice; "Mission accomplished, daddy!"
"Here's the blood!"
We squirted it in all the right places....
After everything was just right, I  already knew my next mission:
collect the crew, and bring them out to the horrific scene!
Now, I must remind the reader, that "the crew" consisted of my step mother, who had been fed up long before now, and then there was Linda Phibin, who'd been over my dad's antics since 1972!
They made up the "crew"!
Just so you know, they were acting as if they'd had less no fun that evening.
and if they had to put up with “just one more thing out of us”, they would both implode.
Thinking back now, I can say with pride;
The scene was perfect!
We had everything in place.
Now for the theatrical perfomance of my entire childhood...
...My dad looked like **** Jagger, or even Keith Richards during the thrushes of a major overdose, or perhaps Joe Cocker, on a bad drunk...
....With his head all ******, from all the ketchup we'd squirted all over the  place, there he  was.
.. My dad with his bloodly head hanging out into the city’s dark, *****, and dangerous sidewalk!

After, once again, climbing the stairs, I rushed in on the crowd.
I was a kid in hysterics!
I was screaming about, how my dad had lost his balance.
and was, now, lying on the stairs, bleeding into the street.
I led them back to “the scene of the crime”,
sobbing the entire way.

...It was better than we ever could have imagined!
They swallowed it all, hook line and sinker!
They were all freaking out, screaming for an ambulance, medic, anything!
I even remember hearing someone scream,
“Oh God, I think his neck is broken!”
...Then another scream,
”And so are his legs!”
I'll never know how he continued to lay there without cracking up,
but then at that very moment,  
my dad sprung to life, acting as if he were some kind of zombie creature!
They really freaked at that.
... crying and screaming, and freaking out!
Then they screamed some more...
...I was ecstatic, bursting with pure admiration and awe of my daddy’s brilliant performance.
I was walking on air knowing we'd pulled it off , once again!
Meanwhile,
Let's just say, the others were a lot less amused.
So we all piled back into the momobee.
Then headed home, with them scolding us, and ******* the whole way.
....Some things never change!

Even then, my dad and I kept our private little buzz going....

...on  Ketchup and Green Sunglasses!
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
oh right... i thought i was on a ****** nod for a minute,
what, a, blank...

she thought i looked like Jim Morrison when met,
i worked out, played squash,
a really healthy example of zoology -
is that, the logic of caged animals?
a bit like the logic of soulless animals
with a god, soulless animals without one,
and the other two 90° variations of the square?
they're inspereble (blah) / momentary
dyslexia, naturally with English - inseparable,
pairing, ah! but isn't much of modern
psychology a bit like zoology? i mean the cages,
the untested theories, stemming from
roots of Jungian and Freudian *******?
Edward Hopper sketched himself with the joke
on visual inferences from these two
molesters of fair game - Michael Myers
just walked in and smashed their heads in...
win win scenario... but psychology is very
much like zoology - keeping a caged animal,
reverse baby onomatopoeia from what the adults
equate mama with... ego... that's their childishness,
babies say *mama
adults say ego,
as if no dead Latin bureaucrat is listening
with a chisel in hand to double-fold missing
the concept of handwriting - it wasn't alive
back when it was all on papyrus, or stone,
it had a brief existence in aristocratic circles
when we wrote with quills and connected pretty well,
we soared with geese! we soared with swans!
we perched on trees like jerky crows!
god, it was beautiful, but then digital came in,
newspaper print, we felt claustrophobic connecting
letters, like jigsaw puzzles put together
some things didn't connect - unless it was a case
of a familial affair, ******, less game of hide & seek
and more a game of lookalike...
we even had perfumed paper back then...
right now you read a newspaper for too long
and you're ready to stamp your fingerprint in a police
station... and i thought money was *****,
newspapers are second-best... ***** currency of
the omni-literate populace - starving journalists
who parasitically feed of of celeb culture,
provided with excess stimulation by paparazzi
nudes... but zoology and psychology are alike,
cages in both cases, restrictions: either no god
or no soul, either some body or nobody -
trained cognitive monkey... does a fanciful trick
sometimes: yep, gets up onto a table in a nightclub
and does a cancan interpretation of the goose step
(stechschritt - all those in favour of the ministry
of simply silly get drowned in the Thames)
as if jogging on a treadmill, in one place -
the mantis in a game of chess - the mantis in a game of chess -
a game kings believed having the earliest known
satellite image from way way above - the best
way of looking at the abstraction of insects.
still, zoology is very much psychology, or vice versa,
cages and prior theories with their guillotines of
Aztec like sacrifice - i told you! those pyramids were
built for capital punishment, excess on architectural side
of what a scaffold could look like, fear inducers,
deterrents, but at least not Egyptian tombs!
and how many bars in this cage of yours can you can
with psychology: the logic of having soul, in practice
the logic of not having a soul, i.e. treatment of thinking -
the behavioural study of a man sitting in silence -
after an hour he folds a leg over the other and continues
sitting in silence - psst... it's called listening therapy...
or talk... 3 hours pass some rain falls... neither patient
or the psychiatrists is any wiser... but the latter gets paid,
the former just looks like a **** clown without makeup.
so she hooked up and wanted to start a band...
she had keyboards in mind... that was already a bad idea...
she thought i was some sort of version of Jim Morrison...
well, if i was, or if i am... i'm doing this thing solo.
Paul R Mott Mar 2012
A child without water,
a rich man drinks his coffee.

A father unable to provide,
a rich kid gets a new car.

A mother lies awake, body ravaged by AIDS,
while the Hollywood hills expose their costly ills.

The dream of equality is nowhere to be found
while the lives of the many are repressed and pushed down.

Executives and suits lived gluttonous youths
while a father works to death to fill his children’s mouths.

There is a solution to this problem of society,
one which the telethon celebs won’t give up quietly.

It doesn’t involve guilt-trips on TV.
It doesn’t need attention constantly.

Socialites shouldn’t seek their own satisfaction
if the only result is our continued inaction.

What is really necessary, what really needs doing,
is to get out there and get ourselves moving.

It’s the work of us commoners
that will fill up the bellies.

It’s the donation of the middle class
that will educate young ladies.

The revolution of giving needs to be started
or else who will care when our own lives grow stunted?

The world all together relies on us all
to give out our hand and make our brothers stand tall.

It’s these simple acts which will strengthen the pillars
of mutual respect for our society’s sisters.

So don’t wait any longer for a celeb to rise up.
It’s these people below them who’ll fill up the cup.

No debutante or heir can fill every belly
by thinking of their pride and unearned glory.

Never before has it felt so right
to be the common man, helping a peer in his plight.
judy smith Jun 2015
A Scots fashion student has been snapped up by design house Calvin Klein after impressing them with his stylish menswear collection.

The Glasgow School of Art already counts leading fashion designers Louise Gray, Pam Hogg and Jonathan Saunders amongst its celebrated former-students.

Now final year fashion design student Jonathan Douglas, 24, from Ballater, has been added to this illustrious list after being plucked by the US clothing company following an interview with them in January.

Jonathan who showcased his designs alongside ten other students from his course said: “I was told by email that after I graduate I will relocate to Amsterdam to work for Tommy Hilfiger Calvin Klein as part of their first ever European graduate creative programme. I was really excited but I’ve just tried to remain calm and continue to work on things for the show today.”

Jonathan can’t wait to live in Amsterdam to spend ten months with each label, then look at the business side of things.

He said: “My aim was to work for a global brand that had a truly global reach because as a designer it will push me to learn about fashion as a global industry. Tommy Hilfiger and Calvin Klein have always been labels with a true heritage that I’ve admired and they always try to innovate as well.”

He added: “The beauty about fashion is that you can travel, there are no boundaries and there are different people with different cultures - and fashion translates across that.”

Jonathan, who has a business degree, and has interned for Victoria Beckham, Carolina Herrera and Lacoste, was also awarded a schools and colleges British Fashion Council and Top Man award earlier this year.

He said of his fashion: “It’s quite creative but still staying within menswear silhouettes.

“It’s a contemporary menswear collection, forward thinking with clean line silhouettes contrasting with crazy textures. I’ve used foiling, hand painting with silicon paint and collaborated with print design too. It’s quite monochromatic. I think we are encouraged here to push the boundaries of our designs and think outside the box a bit because we don’t want to create something that has been produced before.”

Amongst his more adventurous pieces, Jonathan has designed a see through lightweight top with silicon painted shorts.

But despite his new job with a major label Jonathan isn’t planning to get his designs places on the latest celebrities.

He explained: “I’m not a big celeb fan. It’s a great way to promote fashion but it’s not my main focus.”Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/white-formal-dresses
Alessander Feb 2015
Oh, you got your politico pals
Posting stuff about them blues-and-reds
Oh you got your new-age pals
Posts about their chakra dreads
Oh you got your pervy pals
Posts about their whips and spread
Oh you got your journal pals
Posts about their EX and meds
Oh you got your comic pals
Posts of grumpy cat in bed
Oh you got your trendy pals
Posts of food and celeb weds
Oh you got your gossip pals
Posts about what so-so said
Oh you got your music pals
Posts of bands on every thread
Oh you got your mother pals
Posts of how their babies fed
Oh you got your nightlife pals
Posts of each local they’ve tread
Oh you got your righteous pals
Post of what you need instead
Then you got your artsy pals
Oh someone shoot me in the head!
Just a silly romp.
Yes
this happened again
oh please dont blame me
your harsh words
are still echoing in my ears
yeah,I'm a celeb
the third grade celeb.
no one cries for her
someone used to
but I'm certain now
Nobody will ever do
Was that all?
Am i so bad?
the answer is.
ermm
yeah.
Right?


Did i just happen to me?
When i think about it
my eyes shine so bright
into sorrow and pain.
thats all what i had?
nothing do i mean?

Oh no,I'm not lying.
I used to live an isolated life.
i guess now i have to go back to it.
I'm broken into torments.
do you see that?
never did it happen before
but yes!
Someday someone had to get rid of my trashboxiness
That was supposed to be you,maybe

A small hill had to become a huge mountain
just like on misunderstandings.

Nothing i can say
my sorrow is latent
you cant see it
never did i expect this from you.
i wish it never ends
your actions.
hurt me.
your words
b
r
e
a
k
me

your silence
K I L L S me
your ignorance Dissapoints me

just one question to answer.
why me?
guess those words were right.

my friends .oh,there are no friends.
hey this is a poem by my best friend forever ridhi.and she is everything to me and she was mad at me b'*** i yelled at her and called her names,i didnt mean,she was so upset she,wrote it down,just for her.here it is,babe.
i love you.I'm sorry
Aaron LaLux Sep 2019
From poem #27 of THHT3

...We all know what’s going on,
The Young & The Restless could be a list that’s forever long,
of confessions composed as a set list but not sung,
we all know They are attracted to the Innocent & Young,
because in the twisted logic, of their perverted minds’ tongue,
they think by being with children, they’ll stay Forever Young,
it’s disgusting, & I’m so ashamed of the city I’m from,
that I’m not even having kids, nope not even one,
because I already feel bad enough for those already born,  
wish I could warn every daughter & ever son,

& don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to single out Hollywood,
the problems are much more widespread just ask The Vatican,
or the over 800 Boy Scouts that say they were abused,
by the hands of those that were chose to lead as captains,

yeah man not much is mentioned but lots has sure happened,

lots of names go undisclosed in the drawers of the ****-Files,
Roman Polanski, R. Kelly, Brian Singer, Jeffery Epstein,
& those are just the ones that have been exposed,
we all know most crimes go untold,

& no please don’t take this the wrong way,
I’m not trying to say every celeb likes kids underage,
in fact most of those that act are kind, protect & fight back,
nor am I saying I always mean attraction in a ****** way,
I’m just saying I feel confused & it seems like everyone’s gay,
or at least strange & most don’t know how to behave,
& I want to care but these days who cares anyways,
I guess I don’t anymore, I just want to get away,

just want to escape, so I’m running away,

I’m leaving Neverland, never to return again,
I’m leaving Neverland, for real & forever man...

from The Hollywood Hills Trilogy vol. 3

I'm giving away 100 copies of my new book THHT3 for FREE right now on Instagram to the first 100 people that COMMENT and TAG a friend on my latest post. So go to my Instagram right now, @aaronlalux and tag someone in the comments so I can send you a digital copy of The Hollywood Hills Trilogy Vol 3 RIGHT NOW. No joke, for real, let's go! My instagram is @aaronlalux First 100 comments with tags ONLY. If you DON'T have Instagram just go directly to the Amazon page and leave a review of the book. If you review the book I'll also send you a copy for free, so there's TWO ways to get a free copy of my new book! Here's the Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XJRBSKD

∆ LaLux ∆
jeffrey robin Jul 2013
All show!

CREATIVITY

That creates nothing but revenue

--

EAT YER POPCORN
boys and girls!
--

HARDLY HUMAN

Jesus Christ!

We're hardly human

---
--

Amid the death dealing. criminality
Zoe Sue Mar 2015
So visual
Men
We sit them in front of TVs
Where barbie doll lookalikes
Singsong stereotypes
In search of the perfect man and family to cater to
The little girls watching think this to be fulfillment

I change to the news
And fake **** read the newest disaster
With a splash of celeb gossip after
Girls look to mirrors with shame
And I pray to love a blind man

Turn to politics
Where we find women
Like four leaf clovers
To pick out and scrutinize
Dehumanize
Objectify
She must've shown too much leg again
Because there's nothing of her words on the tabloids
Now young girls will only know power in their bodies
Wearing stolen ******* and a stolen smile
Stripping off her self respect with her dress

I live in a patriarchal society
That plays down feminism like a government scandal
I am oppressed
I am repressed
But this is not a woman problem
This is not a feminist problem
This is a societal problem
mark john junor Oct 2013
the echo ran along the wall
across the dew moist grass
and fell like a plea upon my ear
the sky was bruised to a deep blue
and as i fell to a dizzy thought
and found myself on my knees
isnt it strange we never notice
the pavement till we kiss it
and i frenched this piece

her southern belle voice
reached down into my dizzy thoughts
and with a strong finger grasp of her will
pulled me back to reality
and up off the floor
lest a skeeter get 'cha
i humbled a thanks
and together we made the parkway

the echo danced a little
ballerina twirl on my eye socket
for half the night
sky beginning to clear like my head
after all that deep winter snow is thousands
of miles north and a million years from here
the flashbulbs start popping
as some celeb wanders by
catch his drunk eye
and without having to say so
he wished he could swap places with me
as the camera hounds followed him up the road
poor slob
lest a skeeter get 'cha

the echo
waited in the denver snow
and followed to the motel down on broadway
where she probably still waits for me
to come tapping on the door
but that town is far behind me
and for that im grateful

her thin pale white hand
trembles on your arm
and she looks up at you
with a clear desire to be heard
push your yesterday
but your strength waxes and wanes
as versions of yourself
echo down the wall
across the dew moist grass
Francie Lynch Jan 2015
So, you're a dreamer.
You dream of being a celeb
Who's chased and snapped,
Emulated, envied and rich.
That's a lovely, although
Common dream.

Why dream
Someone else's
Dream,
When you can choose
Your own unique
Future.

We don't have conscious,
Sub-conscious, or,
Unconscious control
Of our dreams.
This time,
You do.

Dream to be a
Bricklayer,
And build others'
Houses of dreams.

Dream to be a
Cop,
And help others escape
Nightmares.

Dream to be a
Farmer,
And feed billions
Of hungry spectators.

Dream to be
Good parents,
And raise dreamers
And realists.

Dream to be a
Fine friend,
And take Selfies
Til your arms
Drop.

Dream to be a
Teacher,
Who brings
Others' dreams
To fruition.

So many dreams
To be had,
So many people
To fill them.

Never stop dreaming
Awake in
The real world.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
three ante-chambers and then the bedroom, a valet rather than my wife sleeping in the same room as me... if this is a will to power, i'd rather see the Sunday menu of: a will to whatever's on offer, other than hereditary genetics... mind you, 20th century anti-hereditary genetics seemed like quite fun, all that eugenic stuff... i love the byproducts that came with that, weaklings to be sure, missing horse and engaged tractor, celeb culture and the next Raphael pickling a hammer-shark sidelined with Warhol's quote: knock knock - ah cheap, i know, but when wasn't sarcasm ever?

the famoud *will to power
is a fable, there are too few words
in between will and power, since both are rather antonymous
in application, the argument -
the will to power is a state of anonymity
rather than a dualism,
in Versailles Louis XIV questions himself
as both man and king, and the god appointed;
instead of duality there's an anonymity,
a permanent height outreaching / out-qualifying
the jumper, all pampers and demure,
the mirror circus of poses that Louis XIV
was compared to his brother
gauging out an eye of a laughing man in
a role of a Kafka play the nobles thirsted for
and slyly forgot - there was once a prancing
lady of France, who donned the title
as the king of France, but was overshadowed by
his ****-******* brother; there are indeed
Arabia in the King to quench Africa,
but not enough to go further, with his philandering
******* boyishness to succumb to the womanising
artefact with brotherly jest as with a woman's
care for an up-kept boudoir... of matching stockings
and his matching socks
: never mind the places
cut first on the gauges of fear of the guillotine
with the eyes turning all Newtonian searching
for the next cake - the roles we keep are not the
identities we express, keeping the militant
populace ignorant and ourselves kept by
the labyrinth sexed-up, keeping one pronoun
a wall of denoted king and the rest
a scramble which, whoever, we wish to choose -
as ever, preferring a woman...
well i preferred animals, how's that for an argument
from *****? oh wait, that's an argument from Eden...
ooh choo choo the pick-up truck never picked up steam,
the democracy of nobles overtook the notion
of king as the psychiatric, philosophical rigidity
overtook the notion of ego...
well, weeners and winners here and there,
like salt and pepper... mm, push it! push it real
good!
wait a minute, i thought that aristocracy kept
Paris and subsequent Parisian a folded model ready for
corruption with adequate vices?
when Communism came about the aristocracy was replaced
with intelligentsia - the urban version of what was once
property owning now replaced with idea owning -
it all gets a bit murky here, i write with a more detached
defacement in mind onto a head of a donkey to reveal
the saintly cranium, but never mind the joke,
there's still the papal yoke to keep us curbed, after all,
the best ****** travel to home to sing: love live papa,
love like papa.
it just got me thinking, this obscure cannibal of
aristocracy could scare the king, no wonder the king
in chess is just an extension of pawns, while the queen
is an extension of rook, knight, bishop -
reductionist Darwinism uncovered more than
Darwinism per se, we were originally reduced to insects,
revolving past that and encouraging us to exhibit
mammalian tendencies made us into being unable to
choose which monkey was worthwhile to have originated from;
but still the black widow, the mantis -
female reductions took her beyond mammals,
into pre-reptiles,
male reductions took him into pure mammal,
we're both running treadmills now though,
we're both rodents, hamsters, ha ha, it's funny how
equilibrium works, there's two opposites, both need
to be pacified, no trans-gender changes will actually
objectify or personify, it'll just the other more even and the
other mode off / left in / left out.
you never ask so much about art, you just say
the magic Sesame words of Ali-Baba 'i don't get it'
and it opens, but then you suddenly want poetry to read like
chemistry, what a ******* oddity, and say the words
'i get it', but all that opens is a can of tuna, wooh!
what a ******* stink. imagine these words unlike what
you'd might use buying a pint of beer at a pub,
grow up, you hit puberty with fifty shades of grey,
bestsellers this century, the last, Don Quixote...
believe me, these words will be around for not that long,
soon ingested by what the already aristocracy isn't,
modern aristocracy are mere inheritors, spongers,
they overslept the mark of complicated phonetic encoding
being exhausted, hence the dissociation with politics,
the apathy of the former lusts for war -
granny can write a tweet, but granny can't write an app.,
never mind if it's Buckingham Palace or
the French Riviera mansion... Party Harry gives less ****
than the red squirrels when the grey Canadian squirrels
were introduced, and the next Prince of Wales
is wondering: did i really need to waste 20 minutes of my
life watching Head & Shoulders' adverts?!
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
chlej (verb): to drink excessively
or chlaj: you do it,
  or even chlać (noun): to do so.

it's an aesthetic variation the acute
scalpel incision on the c: piquant -
the Ukrainians call the Poles: Lachy -
which is not the sound of witchy itchiness -
it's not the sound of cheap:
but something akin to a hark -
potency of how the French literally don't
trill or cartwheel their Ar (argon?)
           and thus say the literally Greek
rho (ρ) - thus the story of: chleje (i am drinking
to excess, but i'm not going to repent
for these antics, **** it: every single
psychopath in us to his gamble).

thus said: some say that diacritical marks
are also punctuation marks
that somehow became dislodged from
the linear function and entered the trigonometric
expression of tangens -
            offshoots into infinity -
or how the western niqab is a pair of sunglasses -
or how every autistic darty eyed celeb
dons them to hide those creepy eyes -
while psychiatrists only ask *two
questions:
a. are they biting their nails      and
b. what about eye-contact?

another funny word: ryło -
czerwone (red) and czerń (black)
           czerwone ryło: etymological
ambiguity: it's either gob or cheek
after being pinched by a set of knuckles with
a punch - no Victor Frost wasn't here with
a -40°C Siberian pecker of a smooch -

kot srający na pustyni: variation of a selfie pout
(a cat ******* on a desert) -
funny thing, Darwinism, that sound encoding
didn't evolve to utilise diacritical marks
      as duly (not dully) expressed in Joyce's
end of Ulysses where all punctuation is lost
and left to the dynamo of babel...

there are, truly, more fun moments in poetry
than rhyme - not to mention the anorexic variation
of prose with cutting short the paragraph:
yes, that famous mishandling of paragraph that
poetry truly is... due-lee and dolly -
then the peeps said: oh yeah, that clone sheep -
dolly in science-land, and hence the wonder.

but i do feel sick having watched aeroplanes
and birds, trees, the wind, and cats and all that
dynamic harmonica and never use that
reverse of a freemason handshake (could it be
plural possessive, i.e. ownership?)

****, i'm drinking and then comes the functioning
alcoholic doing the Apache thunder dance
with alchemic cooking up a pumpkin risotto -

o to historia z kantem, co podwujne ma dno,
gdyby napisał ją dante,
to nie tak by szło...

       and here lies power...

        ą (ogonek) my evolutionary step forward into
a tango - tailed-a - or me says me monkey
why Anglo without tailed-a?

    sz = sh = š        cz = ch = č
                    rz = ż = ž                       :
look at them, those humanists, they just as horrible
as scientists, they're doing their *******
electron travels like they might cite Gulliver's -
and they never tell you what's going on,
until someone places a skunk in a room full of them
and once attempting mutiny on the Mayflower,
are soon the horde of Mongolian rats
escalating into a fury of a furry tsunami as an attempt
to conquer the seas in the numbers...

but in all honesty, i feel ill if i spend a day not
using these phonetic encryptions -
i see too much colour, too many shapes,
too many shapes not governed by man's
     geometry - and only in this medium can i
rest my drunken head while "as if talking in my head".

now, i can accept the serious criticism of
philosophy against poetry -
            but when journalists are at it...
those gob-smacker-chatterers are in for a plum hue
under one of their eyes - that ambivalence of
my tongue actually waggling away into concern
  is the point where i use my hands more to
craft the dough of some who might be
victims of a Westminster ******* ring of
   aristocrats (italics sometimes implies sarcasm).
Drifton A Way Apr 2013
Reach high in the sky for the stars
And you will fall over and over
Preach why as you show your scars
Search for the rare leafed clover

Take destiny in your hands
Attack all of your goals
Tell yourself your demands
And Fill in all the holes

You over analyze until your lying there still
A Spider in his web waiting for the next ****

But it's time to branch out and spread a new web
Utilize all your skills and break bread as a celeb

Understand me please
At least I'll have tried
I must taste the breeze
Before I have died

I want to live and write
I want to right the wrong
I"ll walk into the light
After I've sung my song

So if our paths may cross
I invite you to come explore
You have to try this sauce
It makes life taste even more
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
klatka: or cage -
don't ask me about the etymology.

czesław śpiewa, or: the prodigal son returns from
his hiatus in Denmark - talks accented slavic
and can't mustard the danish either - hello applause
of the mediocre crowd! intelligence? on the *bruk
!
(threshold).
                  just enough distance
between you and me and a sniff our a cinnamon stick
being sizzled. i'd love to love women like richard
burton -
   but i'd prefer women to liked to
be women loved by richard burton:
if that makes sense -
            the story goes that since wwii
women embraced enough feminism
to drive all the manual labour to china -
and in fluster were cited as shouting:
come back! come back! no to be, honey....
which is why men of a certain age
turn to reenacting the battle of hastings
of 1066... Darwinism has created
a historiology dynamic: rather than a historical
dynamic - oh sure, there's a logic (wording)
behind it, but we're not really writing history
these days, we're writing something
that attributes history of expression,
but is nonetheless merely celeb culture.
i see more body-parts in my cognitive
reflection that in my ****** reflexion -
             the ego is my right hand (since i am
right-handed), and so and so forth.
                   we've moved beyond history
and what sort of environment is needed to
write history: incompetence, sadism,
patriarchy, Versailles, an Ottoman harem -
generally speaking, strife;
the only thing that keeps us thinking of
a merciful god are the elements we're exposed to,
and on water we strive, and by water drowned.
        we haven't got that,
we have d.n.a. augmentation and for those
that are actually creationists in robotics -
de-humanoid: never have we become so
dehumanised by being cultured and educated -
i find more humanity in an unread scaffolder
than i dare to poke and pierce the yoke of
a librarian's gusto -
               apparently a fifth of 10 to 12 year old girls
have never experienced concentrating
         on encoded sounds -
and even more never managed to
               ballerina twirl an R into an Я:
Narcissus kept them barren with wasted hours
in-front of the mirror.
i have absolutely no idea (other than the accent-diversity
argument) why the Anglos never applied
"punctuation" / diacritical marks to the encoding -
but as Darwinism teaches us:
  even the bible doesn't state why snakes
don't have eyelids, let alone limbs:
i think that not having eyelids is more of an agony
that slithering across the platitudes -
mind you: cats are serpents in disguise:
and they a pair of eyelids: hence that nausea of endless
sleep.
         sroka = magpie. some words really do sound
better in other languages...
                       they really do.
30 years on this earth and i've never bedded an English
or a Polish lass...
       African (tick), Russian (tick), Ukrainian (tick),
                    half-Indian (tick),
                           Thai (tick), Bulagrian (tick)...
****, i'm not picky -
i'll **** anything that moves; oh well, thank-****
that confession is over: or that's how i rationalise
the hot-air of conspiracy theories, and only believe
in things that really scare me;
and yes: you can be a really ******* on paper
after a drink or two, but as Adellè said:
                                       write not a word sober!
i mean, is sober literature even acceptable in that
Venetian banquet of fakery & blossoming?
     it just means you got tired of living
and started to chisel epitaphs on gravestones -
       if i wasn't in some ways impaired to do
what i used to do: i wouldn't have descended into
the Tartarus of Heidegger, and kept myself
afloat in the Hades of Stendhal and Dumas:
reasons all pointing toward posterity and
the love of weekend escapades to Stockholm Paris:
my my... Paris... or of what once was:
                                                          ci­rca 2004,
on the steps of Montemartre: **** you Heraclitus!
  which is the point: as man of individuated
surrounding we're but rivers, elongating and despairing
apart - but once in a century a man comes and
applies a transcendental overthrow of commoners such
me and Heraclitus: where there's no talk of a river
or the flux: instead the sea and the turbulence of
a tsunami, akin to Napoleon, ******, J.C.
all they said was universally true to all of them,
**** it, stampede!
          and it came to such blows of lost conscience and
massed mind virus: i really do care to say
    that such individuals (if we are to embrace
what's become a Cartesian dichotomy rather than
a duality, which is the case) are viruses:
collective manias: a Sydenham's syndrome
                                              (née st. Vitus' dance).
my interests in all of this?
    etymology is the wording of archeology when unearthing
plainer, dumber: etymology = archeology.
sure, there's the fashionable vocabulary,
there's also the standard Oxford vocabulary,
   then there's the cool kid slang something -
and then there's the individuation of vocabulary
toward idiosyncratic endeavours: on the palette:
a character study.
                   most people are familiar with
the archaic, like they're familiar with the magical -
but etymology really is archeology on paper -
     and the clear cut-off points? runes and
the Rosetta stone -
      i even find it believable that they're trying to
make Greek dodo (extinct) - if not for the Cyrillic script
i fear it would be so:
heh, half of infinity (∞) is ascribed to α (alpha):
if one follows less puncture dotting and more orchestral
   waving of a harry pooter wand
and the incantation: abraham **** dabble
(snoop in the b.c.) / abracadabra - case in the law courts
vs. the easter bunny: i'm starting to suspect
  there's a cliche involved with a magician
and a top-hat... the pyramids were feasible,
Auschwitz was ****** feasible:
the hanging gardens of Babylon? insane
(have a building where a garden is above the heavens?!):
oh look, here come the three "wise" (magi) men from the east!
            and all those known deviations from beer:
ale to the west (stale non-carbonated liquid cereal)
while mead (meed) to the east - or miód pitny
          (mew'd p'eat'nee - ee hollowed out) / drinkable honey.
                          or as i once said to her:
you try to bring me down: i'm going to do the trick
of pulling the tablecloth from a table with chandelier-like
preciousness of china or crystal: and fail to pull
that tablecloth neatly off the table: a bull
in a chinashop, me.
  - are we really still trying to sterilise ourselves
with the "sanity" of the sort of language english teachers
taught us in the first place? really?
well... as a poet i can't be considered a "respectable"
citizen... unless i have a rich husband and i'm a woman...
feminism, premature depression, chinese industrialisation,
         i would be accepted as a "respectable" citizen
if i wrote poetry on the side, but primarily
    had my lil' richard made into a patent for a *****
or decided to be a merchant selling all things
excluding the Quran: perhaps toothbrushes or bow-ties?
yep, Judas spilled the salt (whoever thought
that actual white meant we learned to do the Pavlov
trick, and everything tasted better and
no one wanted to snorkel at the great barrier reef
of what would be an acid trip otherwise) -
         i just find the new testament poetics exhausted,
everyone in the west knows this,
which is why all protestant nations decided
to read the nag hammadi library: literally.
well sure - this is the second coming, he's been coming
back since the year of the discovery of the library
(1945 a.d.) -
                          but i'm not buying it...
only because there's that undercurrent in the background,
that requires a little more patience with reading
    (a faux pas these days) and no chastity to be
redeemed when praying, if praying at all.
OnwardFlame Feb 2017
Adrift in the epitome of paradise
Me and my
Man who has lived and experienced
So much life
And given so much
Energy and time
Into the years that keep swirling by.

Curtains cling to the panes of the window
I worry my face ages everyday
Trying to reaffirm, coach through
My moment to moment
We wanted to greet the sun early this morning
My eyes woke me up
Like the sun of the gun
I cut all my hair off
And yet at moments I still feel
Like I'll never be enough.

Pushing positivity and growth
Through the roof of the celeb traitors
That plot to clean their taxes
Ooze their money drip drop
Only at high capacity
That fills their blood
With iron
And a very high end ***.

Red ***
Red ***
I imagine the grittiest scenarios
The thump of a buttercup
Everything covered in me
My blood.

But I wake up breathing
Everyday
Fighting to be happy
To bring in copious amounts of light
And most days I do
If only for fleeting singular moments
Or like the wave of a storm
That I proudly and with gusto
Never drift from.

In the eye of the needle
The eye of the blast
Of air that circles and floods in deep
We make up, eat healthy food
Drank down bowls of kava
But it didn't sit quite right with me
A bitter and lingering taste
Loving me, protecting me
Into what I hope
Lasts as a forever together
Night.
Norbert Tasev Mar 2021
Accompanied by sorrow and danger, a seagull scream splits through the air with lightning speed! The silly mood of happy hearts was soon challenged; trapping, false promises! With the unstoppable temper of the sea waves, it swells and the slap of my chasms and all the petty old-fashioned blows, the blade-sharp criticism of the sword against another deliberate Judgment against My Humanity are growing in me! The suffocating Solitude is already decomposing in everyone; trusting hearts are revealed to you with traps!
 
The wandering wanderer of split spaces: something constantly pursuing and encouraging, with my wandering destiny, deliberately confronting itself in the deserved dreams of the Universe! It breaks into pieces year after year, month after month My soul narrows boyishly and squeaks in its uncertain chasm; your gentle shock only a few researchers can’t understand! He who carries my chubby face lives in me and as a copy kid you get after a lost star! A swallowing career vortex flashes in the wreck of the unpredictable Future!
 
Sensationalist World spits on everyone first, then chews well on daredevils, minute-human, hysterical cedars grab fame cheaply! My selfishness can keep me awake alone; I stumble hesitantly, cluttered with myself, I confess my things are done! "I became a fugitive-wild as an alien emigrant among the former Human-Celeb craze!" My soul refraction is dull, I have suffered timed wounds on the lies of fools!
 
I guess if I die as a counterpoint in the rich, spawned light, will the immortal Beloved be lifted up with his golden-hearted nobility?
skaldspiller Jul 2016
There used be this radio station
....Until I a w a k e
That played all the songs I really liked
. .....We just ......hope that you
                                                 ma  de it.

But it never came in quite right
We hope that
you're celeb
ratin
g.

But I still used to listen everyday
With peo.   ple you mis...shhhhh/ s.
To the static.
And bur..... li
ke a beaco
n,

Because somehow it was still satisfying
Guidi
ng........... our s
.............hip

And when it would rain,  
aroun
               d this helli
                                sh shoal.

I guess it cut out the interference.
I'm happy to admit that maybe I am a little depressed,
And maybe thats why...
I feel you when it rains
*Cause I'm missing you to death.
Untitled number 4.... brand new. And radio static
Akshay Ghadge May 2018
(Hook)

The way we be online,

stocking, posting are our way to spend time…

Be aware from this virtual world,

Its nothing but the drag,

To zero from One…

There are some good to things do,

But fake virtuality on your mind

(1st Verse)

I hate social media

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat

And all that crap cause Hey?

It’s misleading our ******* Generation

Look at our youth today

They can’t look up from their tabs cause they’re

too much obsessed with what’s going on

Gossips and all that stupidity

Hey, I’ve got a new pair of shoe, I gotta post that

And hey, look at That ******* beach

Ain’t she cool? I gotta double tap that

You see? Our youth are too much engrossed in ‘looking and acting cool’ than in being true

To who they really are

I mean they’re acting rich online buh those **** Kids are struggling offline

And what’s this thing about having friends

You’re never going to meet?

Not now, not ever?

(Hook)

The way we be online, stocking, posting are our way to spend time…

Be aware from this vertual world,

Its nothing but the drag,

To zero from One…

There are some good to things do,

But fake virtuality on your mind

(2nd Verse)

Friends who’ll never be there for you

Physically or emotionally

Friends who will never understand

How you really feel

Friends from the other side of your screen

I mean, **** social media

What’s the use of having Four-Thousand friends buh they will never be there for you?

What’s the use of uploading Thousands of filtered photos just to look cool?

*****, you should get out to the sun, life is perfect, it doesn’t need to be filtered

And so, my dear sisters

You don’t need that crop top to look beautiful

You already are

You don’t need that mini-skirt to look fabulous

You already are

Don’t let social media dictate to you

What should be social

Don’t feel left out if you can’t afford those heels

you saw Natalie with last week

Chances are, they were be borrowed

Don’t feel left out if you can’t come up with

a catchy on fleek nonsense

Chances are, it was copy pasted

And you know what?

Part of the reason why I hate social media

is because it has revolutionized

our thinking abilities

We’re now thinking in terms of likes

comments and shares

(Hook)

The way we be online, stocking, posting are our way to spend time…

Be aware from this virtual world,

Its nothing but the drag,

To zero from one…

There are some good to things do,

But fake virtuality on your mind

(3rd Verse)

**** Social Media

It’s sad to realize that people’s worth

is now measured in terms of likes

It’s sad to realize that you can be a celeb online

But a freaking ******* offline

You can be a ******* player online

But a freaking loser offline

Social Media has become a platform of hiding who we really are

We’re hiding our traits behind those screens

**** Social Media

You ain’t giving us a chance

To be ourselves

Fake accounts, fake profile pictures

**** Social Media

You’re only giving us a chance

To manifest and present

Our alter egos

And you’re getting it all wrong

We’re now more like, who we dream to be

Than who we really are

(Post chorus)

I hate Social Media

But when all is said and done

I’m still gonna post this online

Cause at the end of the day?

I still want you to subscribe
Madeleine Toerne Mar 2014
The direct, circular reaction between chemistry and electricity
gestates a cyber-space that pretends to know something
about autonomy.  
Unfortunately, the website sparks the Shakespearian within me.
Unfortunately.  It translates and relates with the mission not to deviate,
but as I read "O Villainy!" my eyes glance suspiciously at the sidebar propaganda:
Don't make these makeup contouring mistakes,
there are nine bases in hooking up now,
celeb quotes that will make you feel better about yourself.

"O Villainy!"
O, say this device don't know squat about me!
He wrote for a second
A line about me
And then changed his mind
The ***** little coward
Sat up cosy in my tree
I glared from my window
At the pen in his hand
I’m just another scandal
To sell a filthy rag
Not an ounce of truth in it
The swine just wants to lie
Then out he goes
Hurts his leg in the fall
I pick up his pad
And eat the page
Before I push him over the wall
The swine just wants to lie
Miley Cyrus Dec 2014
Sometimes life surprises you
you go from pink and sparkly
to black
from this girly girl
to a tomish boyish thing
you go from society
to individual
or atleast on your journey
you really don't know what will pop up next
what challenge
who you'll face
what you'll face
its scary but exciting at the same time
like...
you could become a millionaire tommorow
you could meet your fave celeb
you may finally find your answer to all your problems
like...
life is that roller coaster
that your so mutherfucking excited to ride
but them it starts up and your scared as hell and you dont know *** to expect from it
it may go down
mybe to the left
or upside down
like you don't ******* know
but once the twist is over
you relax and realize it was nothing after all
but in life we can't control a lot of things
like people
things just bound to happen to us
....life
but i'm practicing patience
positivity
and faith
because that is all.....
Up the ladder?
Be careful
A million are dying to climb
Some are wishing to pull you down
Many would wish that you fall
A sincere heart,rare though,is wishing you the best

If you are a celeb
Be careful
For in anger
You sacrifice a fan
And
Not enough though
Influence ignites
Influence against not for!

Wall cracking?
Don't share that story
Your enemy knows that .
Just correct and by surprise,
You get them off the odds!
They will fall,
To a folly trap
In your wisdom

Receiving curses ?
Reply good
Let people read none sense
In your sense
Be thankful for you will hurt them
They missed a point
They wanted a figtht ?
Give them peace !
They fail their mission

If life give you thousand odds
But only one reason good
Cling to the one
Linger the one in mind
Refuse the odds
And your missions
Will never fail.

Slow is the pace
Speed can be a mess
Care is the virtue!
To my friends
Correct me where necessary ...
Over message or comment box
I will appreciate !!!
Norbert Tasev Mar 2021
Through the many multidisciplinary glasses of Time, I wear the footprints of cowardly, intentional runs, old wounds! In the silent darkness of my blood-branched eyes he still sees and gropes palpable spots, like one who has wolf blindness; the seductive romance of balsamic sunsets first fades and then burns into my soul degraded to shipwreck! Every beautiful compliment and fashionable bouquet has become a commonplace! Paid guides explain where they can get their feet better on logic study trails!
 
It’s already going on a sleekmet ***** from the dazzling house of the many sizzling swear-and-talk screens! It’s as if brainwashed, culture-aborted beasts crave oxen from simple sentences longing for the word magic of cathedrals, while they can’t really understand simple magic words either! The gimmicks of kicked, dust-stricken kitty lives sink under puffy celeb people because of the **** things! In tortuous brains, the creative ingenuity lurking in the chain rings, as you know there can be no way to break out!
 
Pieces of ready-made, superficial dream-lives will fly apart if they do not listen to the Word of Humanity: the etiquette rules of good manners and chivalry are forced into a selective waste collection; Who else can find Treasures from the endangered contemporary, dying Anonymous cultures as the ruins of the sinking Atlantis ?! What kind of eye-catching publishers? "It should be seen beneath the surface with cosmic horoscope eyes, in the depths of vulnerable souls, and all that could once be valuable could remain in the migratory wills of migratory birds!"
Norbert Tasev Feb 2021
Not the Celeb Striptease that bitterly enters everyday life, the fierce spiritual sin that can reach the intentional peak in deliberately sold-out ****** pleasures! The stench of revenge that does not reach the perpetrators still smells so far! All the candles are already broken! Already, the ghost roller coaster is puffing in idiot showcase heads! As a stair constriction, they cut off the path from career opportunities! For pious handrails, you know, there is hardly any laurel these days!
 
Buksi also cherishes childish hopes for Hope, which is the only opportunity to hold on! Man would be forbidden to crush himself; on the trampled donkey ladders of careers, only the better known can have the prerogative! He can be succeeded as Susuphos by those who have managed to book accommodation on the shores of failure! The cultural and human **** lurking in everyone can still backfire and hit hard!
 
Thrown out depression should be forgotten; loudspeakers should stay away with their inexplicable accusations once and for all! Overbearing bad faith gets stuck in every fence obstacle! As an iron ball thrown into a river, he dredges in a confused seaweed, the unknown groping, who could better understand the giving emotions!

A ship that has been sinking for a thousand years has become a beautiful prayer of morals and compliments! Things that happen happen are always always repeated, and the human mind often wonders: how does it exist to put young chicks in well-paying jobs with a giggle giggle ?! "Every scene tolerates the Traitor, but only a few trust him."
What happened in Tuticorin is no less than a democide,
the state snuffing out lives whom it supposed to protect.
The reckless and depraved disregard for the lives,
brought out the ugly and monstrous side of the state.

The state is taking the lives of its own people,
to give 'ease of doing business' to its tycoon cronies.
To enable them to grab lands, flout environmental norms,
violate labour laws and to usurp the natural resources.

People gave up their lives and achieved martyrdom,
to protect the 'ease of living' of their fellow humans.
To let them have a breath of fresh air and a gulp of pure water,
and to enable them save their natural resources and environment.

Democracy is no longer ‘of the people, by the people, for the people’,
it got hijacked to become ‘of the 1%, by the 1%, for the 1%’.
The neo-liberal spaces ever expand and public spaces ever shrink,
till the society is transformed into an oligarchy, into a tycoon fiefdom.

Tycoons campaign finance the politicos to get ease of doing business,
people queue up and exercise their franchise to get bullets in return.
This is the time to reclaim our democracy and regain our lost power,
the only way out is democratic deliberation and political confrontation.

Let's set aside, cricket, soaps, celeb gossip, reality TV and selfies for a while,
and spare a thought for those who breathed their last fighting for our rights.
Let's make sure that the lives of those who fought for clean air won’t go in vain,
by showing that we are the masters and oligarchy is only their pipe dream.
This poem is a tribute to the unarmed civilians who lost their lives in the police firing during a protest demonstration against the toxic Sterlite Copper plant in Tuticorin, in the southern state of Tamil Nadu, India.
I.

season of goodwill
exchanging of gifts beneath
artificial tree

-----

II.

time for family
trinkets spill from cheap crackers
exhausted punchlines

-----

III.

time for tradition
same old movies for children
naff celeb specials
Written: December 2023.
Explanation: A set of three haikus relating to the Christmas period - not meant to be taken seriously, and a deviation from my normal style of work.
This follows a similar set of (fairly samey) haikus written over the past few years - Yuletide Trilogy (2012), Stocking Fillers (2013), Christmas Triptych (2014), Festive Trio (2015), Pulling Crackers (2016), Joyeux Noël (2017), Feliz Navidad (2018), Buon Natale (2019), God Jul (2020), Nollaig Shona (2021) and Nadolig Llawen (2022).
All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page and Instagram page can be found on my HP home page.
jeffrey robin Nov 2015
,



& so it is



THE RICH  CELEB AND THE.      HOT BABE

the lonely people gazing on

(?-- as was decided --?)

)(

There doesnt seem to be as many poems about cutting oneself

As there once was

Have people stopped doing it or only stopped writing about it ?

Does it matter !


The presidential candidates are all bobble-head toys pretending to be human

Should I pretend to  vote for one ?



If we read each others poems we will readily see

That no one
Is reading each other's poems


We have decided not to because (?)

What was that reason again ?


Oh yeah

I remember

)(

Death comes easy to the dying

To the living it hits hard


When our meager imitation  of love leads to pain

We say

PAIN IS A PART OF LOVE

( we have decided that it is okay to lie to one another )



The results of this decision have been horrific


///

Bobble head poets !

///

I was ******* Angelina Jolie one night

When Brad Pitt stumbles in upon us

Angelina yells out at him

BE GONE LOSER
IM WITH A REAL MAN NOW!

I get up and say

NO NO.

YOU TWO ARE LAWFULLY MARRIED


MY BAD !


)(


All the power of love we are!

Oh so little love we have !


But we are so full of understanding !!

Maybe love is not very powerfully

Or ..... (?)


Another day drifts by so meaninglessly
jeffrey robin Oct 2015
0
,




personal sovereignty

!!!!



who is here ?



YOU &'LOVER BOY !


••


We await the news !

)(

)(

the hand holding !

The kissing !

The wanting !

The leaving!

The apologies !


)(


More !



HP IS MY FAV GOSSIP SOURCE !


)(


Vision of

Naked bodies


CELEB  bodies  !

//



Vital
Poetry

!!


telling us what we NEED to know !!

::

Into the PINK we go !

//

******* with no brain attached !

LOVE !!!!!

••


Nice & safe with *****

//


Round & round we go

And then We are dead
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
mort omni videre,
  mort videre omni,
  i don't know how to properly attack
attack a god...
  but i do know what if i didn't
write while, i could consider
myself an alcoholic...
death all seeing /
death sees all...
       just about as much as:
gods sees a lot of donkeys...
   all i know is that,
  if didn't write a single world
while drunk, i could be considered
the local joke, the drunk...
the ******* of the shittest possible
gambler,
      but i actually do write something,
and that makes me what,
duke of edinburgh in waiting?
no, it just means that u actually
have something to offer...
   it might not be the spectacular
sober horror stories of a steve,
           sure i write a lot concerning
my personal life,
  which, joyously enough contains
more cats these days than actual people,
the fact being, when i drink,
but nonetheless keep a pedantic approach
to spelling and punctuation,
the fact that i write, and that my drunk
opinions are sometimes worth more
than the sober opinions of others...
now, if i simply drank,
and didn't bother these idle hands into
some sort of work, sure,
even i'd consider myself a drunkard,
but these bacon rashes, these scratches
of attempt at a novel,
  always end up proving me wrong,
so i have my sharpshooter *****
concoction, and i really am,
contemplating taking a ****...
         and yes, i am perched on a windowsill
like a crow on a crow, donning
a band t-shirt like it's the 19-80s...
    fanboy all the way,
         but when you get introduced into
a prog rock band as original and non-celeb
at king crimson -
                     well...
drinking really becomes that all
much more fun,
scaring the neighbours...
  or converting them into cult members...
to be honest,
after you punch yourself in the face
to turn your knuckles in plums to wake
up in order to pay attention to
the drinking: you have just passed the -
i really don't give a **** gate.
Get up and put on your shackles
Then hop in the rat race raffle
Just make sure your gaining capital
Cause thats the only cheese
That we bend to at ease
And they know that geez  
Who’s is they?My apologies
I assumed obviously with the hypocrisy
That a 9-5 would get the economy
Cause we the horse hooked to the chariot
That parade around the one percent
Then take home nothing but lint
Yet still expected to pay rent
But that message don’t get sent
So suffer and eat fast food slime
That food ain’t real
Why do you think they call it a happy meal?
Cooked to perfection cause
If your mouth stay full
Then change can’t come about
Can I just get out?
From dinner to the playground
Our kids are manipulated by their sound
Who you thinks controls the radio?
Not no tidal
Cause the real idol
Never show themselves to a rival
So they get dummies to bellow out the trap
Then expose every flaw
They have so they feel fat
But the torture doesn’t end
Since they need the youthful win
They introduce a blend
Pharmacy ingenuity
A tablespoon of promiscuity
Then fill the rest up with celeb foolery
With the double cup
To make sure they drink it up
So who’s the real female pup?
Enough
That’s why I whopped Willie Lynch ***
Cause to do better I have to beat the past
If you feel same then open your brain
Read before opening any social site
Cause they money comes from Carnage
No not no open mic but actually
The same people that made America
Great again you see
So misinformation is our assassination
Next unify cause it’s just you and I
Who cares if you like dresses and still a man?
If you willing to stand then you can hold my hand
Cause I’m over all the hate
We can make the world a better place
Stop waiting for the government
To make its case
Men if we going to get somewhere
Then let’s not stare or chase underwear
Our queens need they crown
But we can’t have a kingdom
If your **** is used as a noun
So if you with me then grab the semi
And pop open the Remi
Cause 2019 y’all gone feel me

— The End —