"chauvinism" poems
abolitionism
absenteeism
absolutism
abstractionism
absurdism
academicism
academism
achromatism
acrotism
actinism
activism
adoptianism
adoptionism
adventurism
aeroembolism
aestheticism
ageism
agism
agnosticism
agrarianism
alarmism
albinism
alcoholism
aldosteronism
algorism
alienism
allelism
allelomorphism
allomorphism
alpinism
altruism
amateurism
amoralism
anabaptism
anabolism
anachronism
analphabetism
anarchism
anecdotalism
aneurism
anglicism
animalism
animism
anisotropism
antagonism
anthropocentrism
anthropomorphism
anthropopathism
antialcoholism
antiauthoritarianism
antiblackism
anticapitalism
anticlericalism
anticolonialism
anticommercialism
anticommunism
antielitism
antievolutionism
antifascism
antifeminism
antiferromagnetism
antihumanism
antiliberalism
antimaterialism
antimilitarism
antinepotism
antinomianism
antiquarianism
antiracism
antiradicalism
antirationalism
antirealism
antireductionism
antiritualism
antiromanticism
antiterrorism
aphorism
apocalypticism
apocalyptism
archaism
asceticism
assimilationism
associationism
asterism
astigmatism
asynchronism
atavism
atheism
athleticism
atomism
atonalism
atropism
atticism
autecism
authoritarianism
autism
autoecism
autoeroticism
autoerotism
automatism
automorphism
baalism
baptism
barbarianism
barbarism
behaviorism
biblicism
bibliophilism
bicameralism
biculturalism
bidialectalism
bilateralism
bilingualism
bimetallism
biologism
bioregionalism
bipartisanism
bipedalism
biracialism
blackguardism
bogyism
bohemianism
bolshevism
boosterism
bossism
botulism
bourbonism
boyarism
bromism
brutism
bruxism
bureaucratism
cabalism
caciquism
cambism
cannibalism
capitalism
careerism
casteism
catabolism
catastrophism
catechism
cavalierism
centralism
centrism
ceremonialism
charism
charlatanism
chauvinism
chemism
chemotropism
chimaerism
chimerism
chrism
chromaticism
cicisbeism
cinchonism
civicism
civism
classicism
classism
clericalism
clonism
cockneyism
collaborationism
collectivism
colloquialism
colonialism
colorism
commensalism
commercialism
communalism
communism
communitarianism
conceptualism
concretism
confessionalism
conformism
congregationalism
connubialism
conservatism
constitutionalism
constructivism
consumerism
controversialism
conventionalism
corporatism
corporativism
cosmism
cosmopolitanism
cosmopolitism
countercriticism
counterculturalism
counterterrorism
creationism
credentialism
cretinism
criticism
cronyism
cryptorchidism
cryptorchism
cubism
cultism
cynicism
czarism
dadaism
dandyism
defeatism
deism
demonism
denominationalism
despotism
determinism
deviationism
diabolism
diamagnetism
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
She was crying.
So he approached
to lessen the anguish,
her life has notched
He exchanged her tears
with his cozy smile;
to calm down her nerves
at least for a while.
The language of tears
has always appealed him;
as to the insects,
the sundew's gleam.
Innate was this nature of his
to weep for the poor,
for the women, for the children
and for the downtrodden, to be sure.
But with hollow chauvinism
then, the men ruled the society.
And accounted weeping as a sin
resulting from inferiority.
They disliked the boy
and his uncommon ways
to heal the sufferer,
to their utter dismay.
They called the boy
and asked him to change
his beliefs and ideology
or to be ready to estrange.
The boy couldn't understand
how his actions have been
outrageous in their view
and thus sentenced as a sin.
He stood against them
and let the proposal decline.
He advocated his logic
to those ****** swine.
But their ears were concealed
to even the rumbling thunder.
Intoxicated by masculinity
they committed blunder.
The men enraged
and reached for their knives.
They shouted, they cursed
and skinned him alive.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
When men walk all over women, it's chauvinism;
when women walk all over men, it's chivalry.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
All lines are controversial
Average performance is extremely intelligent,
My answer to the riddle is this God never wrote fables
In the bible, Qur’an, Gita, Ramayana, Dini ya Musambwa
Nor anything you will mention that amount to mankind's
Mental peregrinations in search for God.
Jewish literature in the form of the bible
Is strongly successful as a misleading literature
And firmly founded in racial prejudice.
Similarly the Qur'an is Arabic adjustment
Of Jewish literature in the bible.
The Apocryphal of them all is enigmatic.
The sons of Asia are dangerously gifted in literature
And their epics often form religion, think of Tagore’s poem
That became Indian nation anthem,
Karl Marx's das kapitel that became revolutionary religion
Blue print or even Gautama's sermons recited by Jesus Christ
Six hundred years later as a sermon on the mountain.
Now; to me Asians must stop racial chauvinism
And accept humanity as there are very many human beings
Who are living away from Jerusalem and are prosperous
Both economically and spiritually, take a case of Vatican.
In my faith therefore, God himself
will give Jerusalem to African immigrants in Palestine and Israel,
Because Abraham was a refugee in Africa,
Ishmael was born in Africa; Jesus was a refugee in Africa
And even a Libyan; Simon the Cyrene helped him
To carry the ominous Roman cross, doen to Calvary
Thus, Christianity is founded on the innocent misery of an African race.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
you would want to peer myopically into the id-entity of any poet?.
to stroll down his or her mnemonics lane shaded by
white towers full of his or her worthless and shallow memories?.
How can you expect to see with truthfulness when even the poets
eyes are,like yours, are blinded by their version of "truth" and tapestried by the colours of wealth with its intellectual and aesthetic attendant triviality?.
How can you exect to hear with truthfulness when even the poets ears are stuffed up with their version of "truth"and the oligarchy owned recorded sounds of counting houses and insincere celebrities babbling ?.
How can you expect to speak truthfully when not even one poet alive cannot distinguish between the duality of yes and no and the non-duality of neither?.
Whattya want?.
Religious Enlightenment?.
A Cathedral of Corruption.
Gnosis?.
Union with dead failed prophets.
Buddhahood?.
I will be your Bhudda tonite.
Christhood?.
Great View of Yerushalayim shel Zahav.
Union with Allah?.
Teach children to blow themselves to smithereens.
All these have been banned under Health and Safety rules.
All decisively proved by history to lead to War.
And ****** Chauvinism.
And Alcohol/Tobacco/Opiate Drug Addictions.
And Medicines whose side effects ****
And Alcohol and Tobacco fuelled Violence and Psychosis.
And Racism.
And Poverty for the masses.
And Adulthood.
And TV Dinners.
And Strictly come dancing.
among others.
so tell me once more why you cant be a normal human being.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
lurking in every place that others, who also pose as poets,
lurk in--disguised as human beings--rather ineffectively.
Not even as good at deception as terrorists do
but they do manage easily to deceive themselves..
Writing in simplistic rhymes,their inexperienced and shallow
observations, that are made with the blindfold of truth over their eyes.
Pretententious juvenile and middle aged posturers,
that write excretable prose about their shallow juvenile longings,
to possess another completely,and always call it " love poetry".
Begging for a mummy or daddy figure to "love" them,
and thereby give their miserable existences value
and validation,energy-sucks one and all .
Crying out in immature and verbally comatose
stanzas, insisting that they are not to blame,
not me guv!--never met him before!,
can I hand you another nail?..
Still afraid of the "roaming soldiers" in our midst,
the paramilitaries of the Oligarchies that rule everywhere.
On their knees beseeching the one they met momentarily,
and who has walked away from them,
heaving with laughter at their chauvinism and sexism
and lack of integrity and lack of truthfulness.
Begging their various "gods" and "goddesses"to return to their grasping and possessive conditional love the *** object that rfejects them..
"Poets"(very few of them here and I am not a "poet") expose these thieves of others integrity and truthfulness,to the ridicule they deserve,
for trying to twist the shining shimmering slender thread
of unconditional love into a for life shackle
of the conditional attachment that they call love .
Whether they be Heterosexual or Homosexual/Lesbian
or Bisexual is if no account to these testosterone fuelled
inhabitants of the ****** free zone.
"Be all mine" they cry out piteously.
"You cant leave me like this" they cry unceasingly
as if some fictional "god"or "goddess" will fasten
the shackle around the "beloveds" ankle.
What a lot of horse **** to dip your quill into.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
Maybe they feared a revolution
Or maybe it was just chauvinism
But for whatever reason
They would not let his voice be heard
By the suffering masses
Of the decaying metropolis
But his voice was heard somehow
In a land far far away
Where everything was seen in black and white
But the people longed for the rainbow's delight
His haunting voice filled their void
His piercing lyrics became their spear
His aura became their guiding light
Like a miracle unexpected
A revolution occurred
And the rainbow emerged
Meanwhile,
The Sugar Man still drifted unheard
In his grey urban wilderness
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
My heart has gone out for all families on the street
That came out of the erstwhile street boys and girls
Kudos to your creativity as you make life from nothing
Blessed bye your bravado and sense of oblivion
With which you have held the riches of the world
In which effortlessly swim the powers that be,
Beautified be a street family in the all quarters of the world
Wherever you are kindly be ennobled
Whether in India or Chicago of Americas,
Be it Nairobi, Lagos or Jo’burg the infernos of urchinery
Good times and chances befall you children of the street.
Great beauty with you is condemnation of the tribe
In Africa where ethnicity is the bricks of tribal mall
Your names are conditional but not tribal connotation
They sing songs of exclusion but not chauvinism of ethnicity
I was in Kenya at the city of Eldoret, I visited your platoon
In the suburb of Langas, I derided not in the glory of your nomenclature;
Some of you festooned in the street emperor, as other wallow in mauverick titles
Like; Cop-puncher, weed-cooler, ****** breaker, top sniffer, hotel sentry
And many other accoladic names as you feasted me on your virtuosity.
Royal is your blood as you bivouac in the blizzards
The blood in your vein came from the state panjandrum
During the libidinous hour in the wee of the night
The teats you suckled were of your undergraduate mothers
In the high powered Universities of bourgeoisie education
Never regret in your ego for great is your genetics
It was solely misplaced priorities of your vulnerable mothers
That had you dumped on the street garbage in the oblivion of society
But great you are because 10% you hitherto make
Of the ostentations African population that is whoopingly a billion!
Time is coming for your final say, bivouac wherever you are
For your day is very soon.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
My heart has gone out for all families on the street
That came out of the erstwhile street boys and girls
Kudos to your creativity as you make life from nothing
Blessed bye your bravado and sense of oblivion
With which you have held the riches of the world
In which effortlessly swim the powers that be,
Beautified be a street family in the all quarters of the world
Wherever you are kindly be ennobled
Whether in India or Chicago of Americas,
Be it Nairobi, Lagos or Jo’burg the infernos of urchinery
Good times and chances befall you children of the street.
Great beauty with you is condemnation of the tribe
In Africa where ethnicity is the bricks of tribal mall
Your names are conditional but not tribal connotation
They sing songs of exclusion but not chauvinism of ethnicity
I was in Kenya at the city of Eldoret, I visited your platoon
In the suburb of Langas, I derided not in the glory of your nomenclature;
Some of you festooned in the street emperor, as other wallow in mauverick titles
Like; Cop-puncher, weed-cooler, ****** breaker, top sniffer, hotel sentry
And many other accoladic names as you feasted me on your virtuosity.
Royal is your blood as you bivouac in the blizzards
The blood in your vein came from the state panjandrum
During the libidinous hour in the wee of the night
The teats you suckled were of your undergraduate mothers
In the high powered Universities of bourgeoisie education
Never regret in your ego for great is your genetics
It was solely misplaced priorities of your vulnerable mothers
That had you dumped on the street garbage in the oblivion of society
But great you are because 10% you hitherto make
Of the ostentations African population that is whoopingly a billion!
Time is coming for your final say, bivouac wherever you are
For your day is very soon.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
Languages are elastic realities of ages
Going beyond political and historical chauvinism
That selfishly blends into exclusive nations
The European languages we slavishly speak
In diversity of the world is a ****** testimony,
Ostensible Afro-American cultural civilization
Are mere protégés of transplanted tongues
In forlorn position of knowledge
That derides cultural Darwinism
Unto this last that Language
is born and grow from the native soil,
Nurtured by facts of history in timbre of altruism
Where misfortune of history ***** my stature
Planting unknown and unnamed language
In my ****** soil of pristine times
My conscience not yet passively accepting
The changing misfortunes of the transplanted English
As they are at current times
The negations of vicious cultural Darwinist
Condemning me a victim of tonguistry.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
We are no damsels in distress,
Don’t you try to turn us into your mistress.
Here’s a brief outline,
Without your last name we will get by just fine.
The season of chauvinism ends here,
We will no longer live in fear.
So speak as you may, in your bitter twisted lies.
Just like the phoenix, from our ashes we’ll rise.
Mar 8, 2022
Mar 8, 2022 at 11:40 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
My heart has gone out for all families on the street
That came out of the erstwhile street boys and girls
Kudos to your creativity as you make life from nothing
Blessed bye your bravado and sense of oblivion
With which you have held the riches of the world
In which effortlessly swim the powers that be,
Beautified be a street family in the all quarters of the world
Wherever you are kindly be ennobled
Whether in India or Chicago of Americas,
Be it Nairobi, Lagos or Jo’burg the infernos of urchinery
Good times and chances befall you children of the street.
Great beauty with you is condemnation of the tribe
In Africa where ethnicity is the bricks of tribal mall
Your names are conditional but not tribal connotation
They sing songs of exclusion but not chauvinism of ethnicity
I was in Kenya at the city of Eldoret, I visited your platoon
In the suburb of Langas, I derided not in the glory of your nomenclature;
Some of you festooned in the street emperor, as other wallow in mauverick titles
Like; Cop-puncher, weed-cooler, ****** breaker, top sniffer, hotel sentry
And many other accoladic names as you feasted me on your virtuosity.
Royal is your blood as you bivouac in the blizzards
The blood in your vein came from the state panjandrum
During the libidinous hour in the wee of the night
The teats you suckled were of your undergraduate mothers
In the high powered Universities of bourgeoisie education
Never regret in your ego for great is your genetics
It was solely misplaced priorities of your vulnerable mothers
That had you dumped on the street garbage in the oblivion of society
But great you are because 10% you hitherto make
Of the ostentations African population that is whoopingly a billion!
Time is coming for your final say, bivouac wherever you are
For your day is very soon.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 6:48 AM UTC
Tonight I bade him a good bye,
probably the coldest wishes
that a son can bid to his father
under this blue Autumn sky..
We both suffer from the Male Chauvinism,
and thats why we miss the cute little thing
called -Hug,which can melt the ice of even
the Himalayas and can meet the Sea.
I wish I could say that there are more
to hear than what meets his ears from the words
that I carefully choose for him and the cold
shoulders I give him in his hours of need.
May be I will never understand how does it
feel being at the other side but this much is true
that this sacrifice of holding back and hiding
the emotions will end one day out of the blue.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
I need a freedom from cynicism
from male chauvinism
embracing a softer masculine
an absence of sexism
and an embrace of a different manly-ism
one seen through a more unmanly prism
a less than bearing the whole weight of the family
and more like living as a 'we' community
not necessarily a man that's handy
but one who is able to more gently
lead by an example that's differently
fully
compassionately,
unmanfully
me.
Sep 18, 2021
Sep 18, 2021 at 2:22 AM UTC
I remember a time sincere
the bobs were out and a song would play, maybe by Sinclair
Our eyes were wide open, we could see clear
A time out of time when we were golden
hoping and folding our best until we were chosen
It was not money that charmed but genuine being which was the token
Many who wouldn't see and couldn't be their true identity felt broken
And then as at and of magic, the fake was spoken
many were left suffering and choking
Messages from the heart were the the only letters posted
Equal in being and of humanity conversations were potent and all were anointed
Soul was soul and not the image ego will have you know
Weavers so and so in solace did so sow and the renaissance of art was sworn
In deed and in might we proved to be forthright
but under tyranny and darkness we are forced to fight for rights
In a picture coloured with light and glamour, the sparks are inspected for brightness
and as such a defence is born for each one to defend their race
and in a fray for pace we erase the trace that signifies that we are of one face
But we are divided and chauvinism is the sad case
sad case as a box for holding sickening syrups of mission debase
Clustered and gathered in classrooms, we are made to debate
debate issues we all agree on so our fate becomes hate
and not an objective of soul relate
many will know you for your demeanour
some will know you for your humour
or lack of
some will know you for your friendliness
or lack of
others for your humility
or lack of
and others, for the most part, your personality
But very few, 'cherished if in view', will know you for your soul
Very few will know you for your heart
Very few will see and appreciate you as Divinity's work of art
The limited number will acknowledge your character
If you are blessed to meet these twin souls
embrace and do not let go
for many know the person as flashed by camera, few identify the purity so glamorous.
The person of the soul
not the image many are quick to steal and conceal beneath all things dark and useless and then use to deal
*the one thing they would try to eradicate but cannot: the sole of the soul, the center of the heart, the link to eternity.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
the ****** of another black male
riots, looting and shooting
divides states of america
a crying statue of liberty
the constitution is a shallow bible
some cops are praying before killing
executions of sworn-in hands
invisible dirt on their fingers
blood is dripping from these lines
this ain't a poem, ya feel me?
autoranking be irrelevant today
justice is, and chauvin has to pay
his name is short for chauvinism:
a belief in national superiority
this inhumane being is self-obsessed
he is not a cop but a killer
when will it all finally stop?
this flood of violence
bring it to an end!
chauvin's knees are a weapon
and he's abused it for too long
put him behind bars, punish him
george, you are in heaven now
surrounded by air: now you can breathe
in memoriam to you
much colorblind love
R.I.P. George Floyd
✞ May 25th, 2020
Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 5:46 PM UTC
When he wonders internal beauties
And how she holds her looks
An oaf is instigated by duties
How pleasing she cleans and cooks
True, she's not well-kept herself
But wow can she dress a duck
Snug niche he keeps for shelf
Plain, even comfy, but out of luck
Chauvinism, his belief belligerent
Yet she knows what she has chosen
It is simply, predicament
Marriage, refrigerant and frozen
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
tame the dragon,
earn refuge
among the lions...
com si, com sa.
and there i am,
fiddling with *****
on my neck and chequers;
at least chauvinism
engages with women
and women love it,
the fascist boots stomping...
march approved:
goose stratum.
but misogyny?
they can banshee their way
into Arnold's: the ghosts
we should be afraid of...
but can't be bothered...
aren't really edible...
or marriage prone...
for that matter.
it's almost like we created a world
where Sheba was correct,
copper skinned peoples
copulate and we just watch,
revisionist re-counter with south
america... an aztec singalong...
truant peoples: scientists
**** among cyborgs.
well... if my logic of arithmetic is wrong,
then how did the umlaut not count
as two: or a prolonging?
given the grapheme was given
an antidote of grappling siamese?
Æ or aesch or ash...
gravity of the book of genesis...
the beginning was bound
to be ugly...
but it didn't take the crucifix
to shape the world,
but as the advent proved: it did.
ä equals aa - surely -
likened to the aesthetic of pull
of throttle -
unless dot dot is also hyphen
or macron for the above indicator
ā...
***** of a language, english,
english is a ***** of a language,
everyone speaks it!
cyborg mega-tech pa pa -
that's goodbye without etymological
basis worth of an investigation;
rotten core? aqua:
a- (without) -qua (as being) -
well that thing became congested
as what could be managed: a clepsydra;
originally robbed, perpetuated
robbery. translated? vater.
and then father comes along.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
Not many
Things make me
Crazy--
Chauvinism, and my family.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
Americana is a saggy *** ***** that leaves pockmarks in the sheets and sludge underneath the handles in the bathroom.
The staff either don't or can't clean it.
Lazy or honest.
What a legacy.
Her steel sheds and high hanging water towers peppered with rust stains, harken to the diseases that claimed this body long ago.
Waylaid by a bygone era of chauvinism and supremacy.
***** by billionaire promises and suffocated
by his Bible's belt.
Autoeroticism is a blood red state gasping for hot wet air in its own existential twilight.
Never to rise again.
Your labyrinthine streets shaded by overgrowth and cracked freeways.
Your dirtbrown waters and fenced in dogs.
They bark at the sky, screaming of the same stir crazy psychosis that's infected everything else within your borders.
Beneath your clothes.
I can see your long drooping ******* caked with the inky milk from long gone reserves.
Black gold drained.
Powdered milk of a different sort.
Victim to the greed you've coveted and ****** on.
Hard.
*****
Fast.
Loud.
Your tragedy is vaguely romantic,
in its slumped and defeated stature.
Vericosed stilts stuck in the sewage and mud of your ideologies.
No, we cannot go to bed together.
I'm afraid of what the blood test would come back with in the dull diesel smoked grey morning.
Something I've come to know you for.
The sun sets red as the corners of your eyes.
Who ever said an apocalypse had to happen suddenly?
Your broken bones and hip strapped cattle calls.
An auctioneer in the distance.
The proud cliche of a lie laid Western Lore.
The hot irons of pride in your sockets.
You can't even see how hard we're all laughing.
Only a few of these tears are for you.
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 1:31 PM UTC
Oil in a hap
Oil with a friend
Oil asks who is after
Oil mores a call of ends
Day of reclusion
In the street, before creation...
Nothing will; a wishes invitation?
Pretty avarice, adoring the common?
Oil breaks an intuition's, promise
Merely a choice, in circumstance
With a how, have we rage without vice?
Interviewing a chance...
Weal, is most a chauvinism?
Keep a care, key a crush
Of existence, is your eye-fall on a kiss?
Spare me the details, can we move with must?
Entertain me with worldly advances
Like introspection, worth has passed
Over to paradise, in a boat of romances
Named, "The Consideration's Past"
Rescue us...
In the order of haven't; heat and seasons
Here to stay; committing adultery is thus
A shared memory, we know for angelic reasons
Rescue does...
Destiny with a fine key, for privileged locks?
Come with a final wish, only because
Windows in love, sake the life of why we walk by...
Impressions of awe, of watched sincerity...
Meant and made, sent and shade
Pride is such a world, for the pardon of irony
That has the time; close the door when they fade...
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 2:59 PM UTC
She needs no help,
She’s enough for herself.
She stands tall,
She’s her all.
She’s going to come out strong,
She will prove your chauvinism wrong.
She will plant flowers in barren land,
You’ll regret making her feel like she’s secondhand.
She will wear a halo so bright; you’ll need an extra pair of eyes.
She will claim her winning prize, while you beg and apologize.
And now to summarize,
She’s strong, independent and wise; you should probably try to compromise.
Or find a suitable disguise and this is my last piece of advice
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 2:06 PM UTC
.finally! i've been skewing, stalling, to write this one sentence for almost a week, not out of difficulty, but out of a nuanced castacade of observation that "got in the way"... how else to begin rather than with a fireside adlous huxley 1950s english... that grand extract from the history of a language, that sardonic look upon a saxon past.... well... the evil of hollywood when it comes to movies with scenes of actors brushing their teeth... evil, evil, evil, loki-esque diabolical... chauvinism via elbow shuffling: via elbow pushing past the english sacrosanct idea of the supermarket queue... cordiality mon frère... cordiality mon frè(re) - grave accent? you write in the -re: but you cut off given the grave accent on the e-grave... mon fré! it's evil what they do in hollywood h'america... all those movies... actors brushing their teeth, spitting... they brush, they spit... but they don't rinse! and what's wrong with the pea-sized amount of paste once a day? why two times a day? once a day will do... and... once you've brushed your teeth?! you rinse them! you don't do what hollywood actors do, you don't brush your teeth, spit out dry and "forget" to rinse your teeth afterwards... pea-sized amount of paste, brush, spit, rinse... you have to rinse your teeth after the brushing... you don't climb into bed thinking the non-rinsed teeth are your extra: chewing gum! when you brush your teeth: you rinse... i'm a tobacco smoker, all the adverts suggest i should be having stains on my teeth... i'm not getting the scaremongering stains expected... i don't follow hollywood's dentistry's rules... i rinse my gob once i've scrubbed my ivories... hollywood is evil that way... it's all marathon man herr szell (laurence olivier) when it depicts actors brushing their teeth, spitting the paste out, but not rinsing! pea sized dollop, once a day, but rinse rinse rinse! tongue come ice-ring on the touchy-feely side of things after... tongue skidding on enamel!
i once loved...
what an unfathomable
presence of an unbelievable
statement...
i once loved...
it almost feeds into
my luxury of vampire fiction...
i once loved...
i did...
but then...
whatever love there was,
to begin with...
had to become morphed
into the ugly circumstance
of experiencing
the basic foundation,
of reality.
i no longer love,
i do what other people tempt
"to love",
the basic realism of
the exploited, unaware...
i once loved from
the pages of fiction,
of poetry...
now?
this, lost idealism...
well...
the love it kept intact...
but the interactions
kept limited...
whatever counter
theory
comes my way...
an open wheat field...
and a scuttling ramble's
worth of a brain
to match it;
nothing worth being desired
to match a father figure,
or compose itself into
a figurehead
for the worth of establishing
family.
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
Once I had set foot on your fallen kingdom —
I came with summer and crept into your home.
Like a sparrow lurking behind the window
Or with any mendicant's aimless shadow
Did I seep into the sad hospital room,
Watched your empty city wrecked by wrath of Doom.
That summer, I knew I was not so welcome
As those days when you used to crave for the calm.
You said I thrive on the chaos of your mind
While yourself living in an era gone blind.
I was not thought to be the most desired blessing
But I could hear once again the birds to sing
And not the engine's roar or the taxi horn,
Once again stars shone brighter and a quiet morn,
Without the crowded bazars' endless chatter,
Could savour the soft rain-drops' gentle patter.
That summer when Chauvinism fell apart,
For once you could have embraced me in your heart,
For once could call me a boon rather than bane
Who calmed down a whole society gone insane.
Not just that summer but I was all along
There, left unnoticed and lost in your loud throng,
Like an unsung lullaby of Mankind's flute,
I forever lived in the voice of the mute.
— Tanushree Chakraborty
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 4:59 PM UTC