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By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted,
Viewing Leander’s face, fell down and fainted.
He kissed her and breathed life into her lips,
Wherewith as one displeased away she trips.
Yet, as she went, full often looked behind,
And many poor excuses did she find
To linger by the way, and once she stayed,
And would have turned again, but was afraid,
In offering parley, to be counted light.
So on she goes and in her idle flight
Her painted fan of curled plumes let fall,
Thinking to train Leander therewithal.
He, being a novice, knew not what she meant
But stayed, and after her a letter sent,
Which joyful Hero answered in such sort,
As he had hope to scale the beauteous fort
Wherein the liberal Graces locked their wealth,
And therefore to her tower he got by stealth.
Wide open stood the door, he need not climb,
And she herself before the pointed time
Had spread the board, with roses strowed the room,
And oft looked out, and mused he did not come.
At last he came.

O who can tell the greeting
These greedy lovers had at their first meeting.
He asked, she gave, and nothing was denied.
Both to each other quickly were affied.
Look how their hands, so were their hearts united,
And what he did she willingly requited.
(Sweet are the kisses, the embracements sweet,
When like desires and affections meet,
For from the earth to heaven is Cupid raised,
Where fancy is in equal balance peised.)
Yet she this rashness suddenly repented
And turned aside, and to herself lamented
As if her name and honour had been wronged
By being possessed of him for whom she longed.
Ay, and she wished, albeit not from her heart
That he would leave her turret and depart.
The mirthful god of amorous pleasure smiled
To see how he this captive nymph beguiled.
For hitherto he did but fan the fire,
And kept it down that it might mount the higher.
Now waxed she jealous lest his love abated,
Fearing her own thoughts made her to be hated.
Therefore unto him hastily she goes
And, like light Salmacis, her body throws
Upon his ***** where with yielding eyes
She offers up herself a sacrifice
To slake his anger if he were displeased.
O, what god would not therewith be appeased?
Like Aesop’s **** this jewel he enjoyed
And as a brother with his sister toyed
Supposing nothing else was to be done,
Now he her favour and good will had won.
But know you not that creatures wanting sense
By nature have a mutual appetence,
And, wanting organs to advance a step,
Moved by love’s force unto each other lep?
Much more in subjects having intellect
Some hidden influence breeds like effect.
Albeit Leander rude in love and raw,
Long dallying with Hero, nothing saw
That might delight him more, yet he suspected
Some amorous rites or other were neglected.
Therefore unto his body hers he clung.
She, fearing on the rushes to be flung,
Strived with redoubled strength; the more she strived
The more a gentle pleasing heat revived,
Which taught him all that elder lovers know.
And now the same gan so to scorch and glow
As in plain terms (yet cunningly) he craved it.
Love always makes those eloquent that have it.
She, with a kind of granting, put him by it
And ever, as he thought himself most nigh it,
Like to the tree of Tantalus, she fled
And, seeming lavish, saved her maidenhead.
Ne’er king more sought to keep his diadem,
Than Hero this inestimable gem.
Above our life we love a steadfast friend,
Yet when a token of great worth we send,
We often kiss it, often look thereon,
And stay the messenger that would be gone.
No marvel then, though Hero would not yield
So soon to part from that she dearly held.
Jewels being lost are found again, this never;
’Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost forever.

Now had the morn espied her lover’s steeds,
Whereat she starts, puts on her purple weeds,
And red for anger that he stayed so long
All headlong throws herself the clouds among.
And now Leander, fearing to be missed,
Embraced her suddenly, took leave, and kissed.
Long was he taking leave, and loath to go,
And kissed again as lovers use to do.
Sad Hero wrung him by the hand and wept
Saying, “Let your vows and promises be kept.”
Then standing at the door she turned about
As loath to see Leander going out.
And now the sun that through th’ horizon peeps,
As pitying these lovers, downward creeps,
So that in silence of the cloudy night,
Though it was morning, did he take his flight.
But what the secret trusty night concealed
Leander’s amorous habit soon revealed.
With Cupid’s myrtle was his bonnet crowned,
About his arms the purple riband wound
Wherewith she wreathed her largely spreading hair.
Nor could the youth abstain, but he must wear
The sacred ring wherewith she was endowed
When first religious chastity she vowed.
Which made his love through Sestos to be known,
And thence unto Abydos sooner blown
Than he could sail; for incorporeal fame
Whose weight consists in nothing but her name,
Is swifter than the wind, whose tardy plumes
Are reeking water and dull earthly fumes.
Home when he came, he seemed not to be there,
But, like exiled air ****** from his sphere,
Set in a foreign place; and straight from thence,
Alcides like, by mighty violence
He would have chased away the swelling main
That him from her unjustly did detain.
Like as the sun in a diameter
Fires and inflames objects removed far,
And heateth kindly, shining laterally,
So beauty sweetly quickens when ’tis nigh,
But being separated and removed,
Burns where it cherished, murders where it loved.
Therefore even as an index to a book,
So to his mind was young Leander’s look.
O, none but gods have power their love to hide,
Affection by the countenance is descried.
The light of hidden fire itself discovers,
And love that is concealed betrays poor lovers,
His secret flame apparently was seen.
Leander’s father knew where he had been
And for the same mildly rebuked his son,
Thinking to quench the sparkles new begun.
But love resisted once grows passionate,
And nothing more than counsel lovers hate.
For as a hot proud horse highly disdains
To have his head controlled, but breaks the reins,
Spits forth the ringled bit, and with his hooves
Checks the submissive ground; so he that loves,
The more he is restrained, the worse he fares.
What is it now, but mad Leander dares?
“O Hero, Hero!” thus he cried full oft;
And then he got him to a rock aloft,
Where having spied her tower, long stared he on’t,
And prayed the narrow toiling Hellespont
To part in twain, that he might come and go;
But still the rising billows answered, “No.”
With that he stripped him to the ivory skin
And, crying “Love, I come,” leaped lively in.
Whereat the sapphire visaged god grew proud,
And made his capering Triton sound aloud,
Imagining that Ganymede, displeased,
Had left the heavens; therefore on him he seized.
Leander strived; the waves about him wound,
And pulled him to the bottom, where the ground
Was strewed with pearl, and in low coral groves
Sweet singing mermaids sported with their loves
On heaps of heavy gold, and took great pleasure
To spurn in careless sort the shipwrack treasure.
For here the stately azure palace stood
Where kingly Neptune and his train abode.
The ***** god embraced him, called him “Love,”
And swore he never should return to Jove.
But when he knew it was not Ganymede,
For under water he was almost dead,
He heaved him up and, looking on his face,
Beat down the bold waves with his triple mace,
Which mounted up, intending to have kissed him,
And fell in drops like tears because they missed him.
Leander, being up, began to swim
And, looking back, saw Neptune follow him,
Whereat aghast, the poor soul ‘gan to cry
“O, let me visit Hero ere I die!”
The god put Helle’s bracelet on his arm,
And swore the sea should never do him harm.
He clapped his plump cheeks, with his tresses played
And, smiling wantonly, his love bewrayed.
He watched his arms and, as they opened wide
At every stroke, betwixt them would he slide
And steal a kiss, and then run out and dance,
And, as he turned, cast many a lustful glance,
And threw him gaudy toys to please his eye,
And dive into the water, and there pry
Upon his breast, his thighs, and every limb,
And up again, and close beside him swim,
And talk of love.

Leander made reply,
“You are deceived; I am no woman, I.”
Thereat smiled Neptune, and then told a tale,
How that a shepherd, sitting in a vale,
Played with a boy so fair and kind,
As for his love both earth and heaven pined;
That of the cooling river durst not drink,
Lest water nymphs should pull him from the brink.
And when he sported in the fragrant lawns,
Goat footed satyrs and upstaring fauns
Would steal him thence. Ere half this tale was done,
“Ay me,” Leander cried, “th’ enamoured sun
That now should shine on Thetis’ glassy bower,
Descends upon my radiant Hero’s tower.
O, that these tardy arms of mine were wings!”
And, as he spake, upon the waves he springs.
Neptune was angry that he gave no ear,
And in his heart revenging malice bare.
He flung at him his mace but, as it went,
He called it in, for love made him repent.
The mace, returning back, his own hand hit
As meaning to be venged for darting it.
When this fresh bleeding wound Leander viewed,
His colour went and came, as if he rued
The grief which Neptune felt. In gentle *******
Relenting thoughts, remorse, and pity rests.
And who have hard hearts and obdurate minds,
But vicious, harebrained, and illiterate hinds?
The god, seeing him with pity to be moved,
Thereon concluded that he was beloved.
(Love is too full of faith, too credulous,
With folly and false hope deluding us.)
Wherefore, Leander’s fancy to surprise,
To the rich Ocean for gifts he flies.
’tis wisdom to give much; a gift prevails
When deep persuading oratory fails.

By this Leander, being near the land,
Cast down his weary feet and felt the sand.
Breathless albeit he were he rested not
Till to the solitary tower he got,
And knocked and called. At which celestial noise
The longing heart of Hero much more joys
Than nymphs and shepherds when the timbrel rings,
Or crooked dolphin when the sailor sings.
She stayed not for her robes but straight arose
And, drunk with gladness, to the door she goes,
Where seeing a naked man, she screeched for fear
(Such sights as this to tender maids are rare)
And ran into the dark herself to hide.
(Rich jewels in the dark are soonest spied).
Unto her was he led, or rather drawn
By those white limbs which sparkled through the lawn.
The nearer that he came, the more she fled,
And, seeking refuge, slipped into her bed.
Whereon Leander sitting thus began,
Through numbing cold, all feeble, faint, and wan.
“If not for love, yet, love, for pity sake,
Me in thy bed and maiden ***** take.
At least vouchsafe these arms some little room,
Who, hoping to embrace thee, cheerly swum.
This head was beat with many a churlish billow,
And therefore let it rest upon thy pillow.”
Herewith affrighted, Hero shrunk away,
And in her lukewarm place Leander lay,
Whose lively heat, like fire from heaven fet,
Would animate gross clay and higher set
The drooping thoughts of base declining souls
Than dreary Mars carousing nectar bowls.
His hands he cast upon her like a snare.
She, overcome with shame and sallow fear,
Like chaste Diana when Actaeon spied her,
Being suddenly betrayed, dived down to hide her.
And, as her silver body downward went,
With both her hands she made the bed a tent,
And in her own mind thought herself secure,
O’ercast with dim and darksome coverture.
And now she lets him whisper in her ear,
Flatter, entreat, promise, protest and swear;
Yet ever, as he greedily assayed
To touch those dainties, she the harpy played,
And every limb did, as a soldier stout,
Defend the fort, and keep the foeman out.
For though the rising ivory mount he scaled,
Which is with azure circling lines empaled,
Much like a globe (a globe may I term this,
By which love sails to regions full of bliss)
Yet there with Sisyphus he toiled in vain,
Till gentle parley did the truce obtain.
Wherein Leander on her quivering breast
Breathless spoke something, and sighed out the rest;
Which so prevailed, as he with small ado
Enclosed her in his arms and kissed her too.
And every kiss to her was as a charm,
And to Leander as a fresh alarm,
So that the truce was broke and she, alas,
(Poor silly maiden) at his mercy was.
Love is not full of pity (as men say)
But deaf and cruel where he means to prey.
Even as a bird, which in our hands we wring,
Forth plungeth and oft flutters with her wing,
She trembling strove.

This strife of hers (like that
Which made the world) another world begat
Of unknown joy. Treason was in her thought,
And cunningly to yield herself she sought.
Seeming not won, yet won she was at length.
In such wars women use but half their strength.
Leander now, like Theban Hercules,
Entered the orchard of th’ Hesperides;
Whose fruit none rightly can describe but he
That pulls or shakes it from the golden tree.
And now she wished this night were never done,
And sighed to think upon th’ approaching sun;
For much it grieved her that the bright daylight
Should know the pleasure of this blessed night,
And them, like Mars and Erycine, display
Both in each other’s arms chained as they lay.
Again, she knew not how to frame her look,
Or speak to him, who in a moment took
That which so long so charily she kept,
And fain by stealth away she would have crept,
And to some corner secretly have gone,
Leaving Leander in the bed alone.
But as her naked feet were whipping out,
He on the sudden clinged her so about,
That, mermaid-like, unto the floor she slid.
One half appeared, the other half was hid.
Thus near the bed she blushing stood upright,
And from her countenance behold ye might
A kind of twilight break, which through the hair,
As from an orient cloud, glimpsed here and there,
And round about the chamber this false morn
Brought forth the day before the day was born.
So Hero’s ruddy cheek Hero betrayed,
And her all naked to his sight displayed,
Whence his admiring eyes more pleasure took
Than Dis, on heaps of gold fixing his look.
By this, Apollo’s golden harp began
To sound forth music to the ocean,
Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heard
But he the bright day-bearing car prepared
And ran before, as harbinger of light,
And with his flaring beams mocked ugly night,
Till she, o’ercome with anguish, shame, and rage,
Danged down to hell her loathsome carriage.
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
The moment for us to say our goodbyes has come
Our eyes will flood then we’ll be on our way
A final farewell to what once belonged to both of us
Times run out but we have plenty of regrets

My brown eyed November
You’ll never know what you were worth to me
Even after the fights, the excruciating frustration

I would walk on broken glass barefoot just to get to you
To be honest there isn’t much I’d do for you
But now I can’t do anything
I gave you everything and you walked away

I know, but you don’t
Have a clue how much damage you’ve done to me
I never told you my secrets
I never told you everything

My brown eyed November
You don’t know how much you meant to me
The moon fall and the sun rise
Shine on our lies

I knew you were treacherous
Yet I still clinged to you hoping maybe it would all change

Let’s end this, I want it
I need to calm down

My brown eyed November
You are truly invaluable
The ocean bathes us the sand dries
Cleansing our lives

You couldn’t care less
My appreciation goes unappreciated
If it isn’t and I am wrong
Please, now is the time to tell me

The karma
Bad karma
The cause of all of this

The memories of you will stay even when you are gone
Mistrust will linger but hope resonates
We’re like summer in the fall, we’re leaving
Mistreating, believing
After all this I don’t want to be your one and only victim
What do you care? You never believed in soul mates or in true love

I can’t stay, even though I want to
You gave false hope and empty promises
Injected me with a tranquilizer and put me in a state of gullibility
Was I dramatic or miserable?
I know you can’t be replaced, why would I want another one like you?
So good bye my brown eyed November
Sabila Siddiqui Mar 2018
You were made of words;
A description brought to life
A creation of my imagination
Someone who can be mine.

your wordy essence clinged to my skin
and aura spread through my nerves
making ever cell fall in love.

It was the type of love that ran deeper than skin
and deeper than for the people I knew that exist.
Jellyfish Mar 6
These are confessions I can never send.
Because they blatantly won't understand
and that is something I need to get,
They don't care for me enough to accept the ways they hurt me and say sorry.

They are hypocrites,
Because they want me to stay weary.
They want me to always let go and cry alone.
They don't care if around them I'm woeful.

Mom,
You always said I was in the wrong,
Cleaning and chores were our only "bond"
You never chose me unless you could brag.

Dad,
You broke my heart,
You'd catch me when I'd fall
But never stuck up for me in the end.  

Mom chooses to make me a villain,
All I wanted was her acceptance
but she sees me as a sinner who's selfish,
I should put my pain aside and pretend I'm good.

I will be left to wonder forever,
Why my pain doesn't matter
In comparison to my sister,
Why am I less accepted when I'm in pain?

Dad loves me because he sees himself in me.
I look like him, we share a hobby
but growing up I believed that was the only thing he loved about me
Because one moment he'd be there, but would runaway when I needed him most.

Alone, he would listen,
He would say he'd help me
But in front my mom he was different.
Suddenly, what we said in the car was insignificant.

I'm an adult who doesn't know her needs, wants, and likes
Because I spent my life trying to be accepted.
No one taught me how to accept myself,
Or how to know what I need or want.

If someone cared unconditionally,
I clinged to them.
I hoped they'd never leave,
because I never got that from my family.

Now I'm in therapy, crying in every session
That I'm hurt again because of them,
Or hurt by myself because
I don't know who I am.
i took your **** and ran with it,
went miles into distance while you constantly clinged to the past
girl I'm tired of it.
How am I suppose to get in if he still has the original and I was givin the spare key,
I'm me and no where near him reason why you always keep runnin back lookin for a safe haven, but in reality sorry that ******* I ain't takin ,
must be mistaken,
I'm havin you second all the time I made you first,
like an unwelcomed tenet,
or low rank  lieutenant,
I'm undermined, while hes underlined,
made into a bold figure,
but I stack real figures,
and don't make you feel bitter like this *****.
Just don't  mention why you quiver , I know the reason why you internally bleedin , stress in ya eyes   swollen from the cries in the night, it ain't right.
but yet you fall back to him , then call me later? I gave you my words, last time was the last. So to bad if it didn't last, and both ends of the ties leave  you to grieve and gravel on the gravel , yeah sit there and babble , yeah I ponder the river creeks for years
now im off the love boat, I skidattled , faught the more fishes in the sea with broken paddle promise not to commit unless it was suicide or a contract with a person I don't trust after marriage and can't truly settle with.
so the others who wanted me are shunned, and you ?  Is of no concern to my conscience , my once brown poccahauntus who haunted
my nights , and Asian moon cake who left with the wrong shake   wen I coulda move mountain cause I was the real earthquake to shake the floor beneath you and let you see the plummit to a deeper meaning. Thank for leavin.
Asmathic or not,
I remain breathing.

by Emmanuel Hernandez
aka
Linguist Musician  aka Deep thought
Fenix Flight Feb 2015
.               "Peter Look at me." Lexi whispers moving closer to him, The hot spray from the shower head scalding her back. Peter had his back flushed against the back of the shower, his eyes, the red of an Alpha wolf, wild with pure animistic rage. He's lost his humanity, she thinks, I have to bring it back, Peter Snarls and lunges for her. Lexi just holds out her palm and water tentacles from the streaming water behind her snake out and wrap themselves around his wrists and ankles, locking him in places, vicious snarls escaping him, his eyes burning red. Anger wells up in her chest making her own eyes Flash violet, her powers rising inside her. She closes her palms and the water restraints tighten cruelly against him, a small whimper coming from him. She looks him in the eyes and steps even closer, leaving the comfort of the water. "Peter please, come back to me my love." She whispers moving closer still until she was standing right in front of him, his breathing echoing off the shower tiles. She stretches her hand out and touches the hard muscles of his stomach, making him flinch violently, struggling against his restraints as he tries to move away. Lexi thinks back to the time when he would have done anything just to feel her touch, now with his humanity lost,  and the wherewolf taking hold he couldn't bare it. She splays her hand across his abs, tracing the hard muscles, trying not to wince as sounds of pure distress came from him. Looking back up into his eyes she searches for the Peter she had fallen in love with, imprinted with, and found nothing but a cruel cold hearted Animal staring back at her. She takes her hands away and sees the distress turn quickly back into a murderous glare as he pulls against the restraints trying grab her, his claws glistening with spray from the water. With a flick of her wrist the tentacles pull at his arms until they are spread out, far from touching her, another viscous growl, more tugging against them. "Peter I know you can hear me,try to fight this I know you can." She says pleading to any shred of humanity that might still be lurking within his soul. For a split second his eyes lose some of the bloodlust as her words penetrate the wolf that was rising, his face twists in concentration

               "Lexi- I can't Save yourself" He gasps through clenched teeth, His eyes begging her to run before he closes them. She steps near, her heart soaring with hope that she might be able to save him. When he opens his eyes again though all hope she just had shatters as the cruel animal returns. With renewed strength He lets out a harsh howl and yanks his arms, the water tentacles turning to puddles, slipping down the drain with the rest of the water, in the small space of the shower he lunges toward her. Fear ripples through her but she quickly shakes it off and once again lifts her palm stronger tentacles obeying her command wrap themselves around him just in time, as his sharpened fangs came three inches from her face. His body is slammed back against the shower wall, his head bouncing painfully off the tiles. As he trashes and pulls at the restraints Lexi moves back close to him, shutting her eyes in concentration. "His ego cuffs concatenata bestiam, relaxare scintillis humanitas seen, With these cuffs I chain the beast, only loosen with sparks of Humanity seen." The Latin words falling easily from her lips as she casts her spell on the water, knowing they would hold and only lessen their grip when the Peter she knew and loved came back. Her strength leaves her as the spell takes hold and she sags against the other wall, seeking its help to keep her upright. She leans her forehead onto the water slicked tiles and breaths in the steamy air, her eyes drift close. Knowing she was safe from anymore escape tempts she turns her back toward the beast that wore Peters face and steps back into the scalding water of the shower, letting the heat seep into her cold riddled body, and washing away any remaining fear as she lifts her face to the spray. Anger toward herself bubbles up inside her, how can she be afraid of the man she loves? whimpers fro behind her make her sigh and step out of the comforting spray. Turning around, she opens her eyes which were flashing Violet with her rejuvenated powers, she once again faces the love of her life. Hope once against swells inside her as she faces her task of Being Back Peter's humanity.

               "Peter I know you are still in there, I'm going to touch you now." She says with confidence as she steps closer once more. Hot spittle flies from his mouth as a deadly snarl comes from deep within, his fangs fully elongated, his claws at full length, clawing wilding at the air trying to tear her apart. She ignores the snarls and the beast and focuses souly on her task, She reaches out and touches his chest, right above his pounding heart. Moving her hand upward she runs her hands up his muscled well toned arms and with her left hand she places it carefully on his cheek, keeping away from his deadly venom coated fangs, knowing that one bite would have her transforming into a werewolf like him. The terrified whimpers he made makes her heart squeeze, knowing that the touch of a human in his wolf fill brain was torture for him. She looks in his eyes and silently pleads for this to work, knowing that with each touch the Peter she loved would have a fighting chance to break through and once again take hold of his body. She steps closer and kicking his feet apart she presses flush against him, the roughness of his soaked jeans rubbing against her naked body, his shirtless upper half smooth against her own chest. A strangled growl leaves him as he tries to shrink away from the closeness. She takes her hands and places them on either side of his face yanking it back to look at her. "Peter come on love FIGHT THIS!" She hisses pressing herself closer to him. The blood lust fades slightly, his arms sagging slightly as the restrains register a spark of his humanity. Her eyes shine with joy when she realizes it was working. She takes her hands away from his face and wraps them around his neck, stretching up on her toes to reach his mouth with hers. She kisses his mouth, not afraid of the snapping teeth, and feels the growls dissipating in his throat, as his arms continue to sag with the loosing cuffs. She watches as his eyes close and feels his lips returning the pressure to hers. A small gasps escapes her as she feels his arms finally wrapping around her body crushing her to him.

               "Lexi Stop, I can't fight this for long," he pleads against her lips, and on Que his arms are softly yanked from around her as the restraints sense the animal rising again. Going against her intuition she lifts her hand and the spell is broken letting his arms sag fully to his sides, giving him full use of them. He growls "That was a mistake, Lexi AH" He chokes out shutting his eyes and shrinking away from her half turning his body, trying to keep himself from slipping away. She moves, easily deflecting his feeble attempts to push her away, she takes hold of his arm and turns him to face her again and softly pushes him up against the wall which they had started to stray from, pressing herself firmly against him.

               "You can fight this Peter," She whispers in his ear before claiming his mouth again. It was her mistake. He kisses her with desperation trying to fight back the Wolf that was clawing it way through him. IN a split second He looses control and the beast takes hold. Giving off a murderous howl he sinks his claws deep within her back, Her scream tears through her, echoing off the tiles. She sags against his claws, making them sink in deeper as whimpers of agony spill from her kiss swollen lips.  With a grunt he rips his claws out and watches as she crumples to the ground, her strength deserting her. She splashes in the water built up in the tub , barely noticing the sting as her knees and hands hit the porcelain. Her arms wobble as she tries to keep herself up, her eyes cast down as she stares at his bare feet, the hem of his jeans dark with the water sloshing around him. "Pe-Peter Fight, pl-please" she mumbles as a fog starts to creep into her mind. Her arms fail her and she splashes face first into the ***** water. The water was tinged red and tasted like cooper with her life's blood as it oozed out of the ten claw marks on her back. Her breath quickens as it become shallow, the fog creeper faster, her vision starting to unfocused. Tears spill down her face and mix with the ****** water as she realizes she was going to die, and without saving Peter.

               "I failed you Peter, I'm sorry, Forgive me," She whispers unable to lift her head to look at the beast that claimed him. " I- I love You" She manages to sputter out before the fog took hold of her, rendering her unconscious.

               Those three words reached the beast, traveling down to Peter who was growing weaker by the minute LEXI! he screams mentally and pushes past the beast. He throws his head back, letting out a tortuous howl, as his eyes go from blood red to the Ice blue some Beta wherewolves posses, his original state. The beast retreats, never fully gone, just hibernating until the next best moment to strike. Peter looks down at the naked girl at his feet, and he drops to his knees in the red waters.

               "Lexi My love" He whispers his voice full of agony. He lifts her limp body out of the water and cradles her in his arms, He wipes away the hair that was plastered to her face and rests his hand against her cheek. "Open your eyes my love, you didn't fail me, you saved me, I'm right here, just open your eyes." He says, his voice choked with unshed tears. When she doesn't respond he cries out , placing his head on her chest, taking his hand away to wrap around her body in a tight grief stricken embrace, his blond hair making a curtain around his face as his grief pours out of him unchecked. A strangled Gasp makes her chest rise and he wipes his head up to find her eyes fluttering open, focusing weakly on him.

               "Peter, you're-" her words fade away as her strength seeps out of her. she lifts her hand and he quickly grasps it in his lifting it to his mouth kissing the fragile pale skin before putting his face in her hand, trapping it between his face and his hand.

               "Yes Lexi I'm me, I'm here, Don't give up" He says smiling through his tears. A faint smile spreads across her bloodless lips as she closes her eyes, her breathing was struggled but she clinged to the last bites of life in her as she pulls her power in, drawing strength from the water around them, the air that fought it's way to her lungs, the Fire from the small candle she had lit in the bathroom earlier for strength, the minuet grands of dirt that always managed to find their way in the house. But most of all she Draws on the Spiritual world the one that swirled around every living creature. She draws all this power inside her and wills her body to heal itself, Fighting for her life. Her power pulls and a soft warm glow fills her body as the wounds slowly pull themselves closed healing themselves. Her breathing becomes easier and she gulps huge mouth fulls, coughing as she takes too much in. Peter tighten's his hold on her and stares at her in wonder as she pulls her broken battered body together. "Oh Lexi," he gushes as color returns to her body, making it flush a pale pink, her eyes going from their crystal green to the purple as she works her magic. Finally the wounds were sealed shut, and her eyes return to their crystal green, her body sagging in exhaustion in his arms.

               "You're you, you're really you." She whispers, happiness ringing in her soft sleepy voice. Peter smiles at her and strokes her cheek, his fangs had vanishes and his claws had retracted.

               "Yes Lexi I'm really me."

               "I thought you're humanity was lost,"

               Peter just shakes his head at her, tightening his hold on her he stands up, carrying her bride style he steps out of the shower, not bothering to shut off the water. Holding her close to his body she rests her head against his bare chest and sighs as she hears his heart thumping at a normal pace. Leaving the bathroom he pads down the hall to their room. Once inside, with one hand he pulls back the covers on their king sized bed and gently deposit her onto it. going to his side of the bed he quickly strips out of his wet clothing and slides under the covers with her, drawing her close to his body, skin to skin. Lifting her eyes to his he smiles at her.

               "NO Lexi, I don't think I can ever lose my humanity again, want to know why?" He says, his eyes hypnotizing her. She snuggles closer to him, her legs tangling with his,

               "Why?"

               "Because YOU are my humanity." He says as his lips crush her in a passion filled kiss.
This was A Dream I had. I have no other back story or anything This was jsut my dream and I was Lexi. Peter was Peter Hale From TV show Teen Wolf. ( IDK why but my dreams awalys end up staring someone from that **** show)
In summer's heat and mid-time of the day
To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay,
One window shut, the other open stood,
Which gave such light, as twinkles in a wood,
Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun,
Or night being past, and yet not day begun.
Such light to shamefast maidens must be shown,
Where they must sport, and seem to be unknown.
Then came Corinna in a long loose gown,
Her white neck hid with tresses hanging down:
Resembling fair Semiramis going to bed
Or Layis of a thousand wooers sped.
I snatched her gown, being thin, the harm was small,
Yet strived she to be covered there withal.
And striving thus as one that would be chaste,
Betrayed herself, and yeilded at the last.
Stark naked as she stood before mine eye,
Not one wen in her body could I spy.
What arms and shoulders did I touch and see,
How apt her ******* were to be pressed by me.
How smooth a belly under her waist saw I?
How large a leg, and what a ***** thigh?
To leave the rest, all liked me passing well,
I clinged her naked body, down she fell,
Judge you the rest, being tired she bade me kiss,
Jove sent me more such afternoons as this.
The time I felt tummy hurts
Those that needn't the doctor
Those of hunger strikes in me
I clinged to worry for myself
Before my life discovery.
Was too used to pizza and burgers
Nothing from my own homeland
Though in my search I fell in a direction
An improved variety tabled for us
Down the table I sat, not popular to the world but my tummy signed in
Lost my taste buds to only this
To that I ate like a hired thief in full bites
The bells of Hawaiian, becon, chicken, sausage, all for One
  A Rollecks.....
Marked my anniversary of love for snacks
The place whose memory runs in my blood
The Ugandan Nemo's,
Imprisoned my love for Rollecks
One of a kind shared without regrets
Notes (optional)
LJ Chaplin Dec 2013
It is always difficult to describe depression,
There are so many interpretations
That people hold,
This is my own.

You're standing on the cliffs edge,
Looking out towards the horizon of life,
Then you see the storm clouds rolling in,
The thunderous roars of trepidation
And the lightning bolts of painful reminiscence
Mirroring the silver scars on your skin,
Then the mighty winds of worthlessness
Hauls you over the edge.
The cool air brushes against your face
As you descend towards the black water below,
Every inch of you is screaming for you to stop
But you can't,
You have lost complete control and you are weak,
Defenceless,
Vulnerable,
Amidst the whistling winds in your ears
You hear the names, the bullying,
The cries of disappointment,
The reminiscent sound of ***** against porcelain,
You hit the water and shatter the surface
And you pray that you have stopped,
Things will bet better ,
But instead you continue to sink,
Numb, cold, aching,
You want to cry but you feel so empty,
Like the bitter sting of the salty ocean
Has clinged to your skin and draws out
The last ounce of feeling you had left to hold on to,
You stare at the surface,
Wide eyes desperately searching for rescue,
The fractured refraction of a flare in the stormy sky,
A hand to plunge into the water and pull you out
And revive you.

I have been fortunate enough to be pulled from
The ocean,
Revived countless times
After feeling like I will spend eternity
Living in the shipwreck of my insecurities.
It is my duty to scour the world and throw a life ring
To every lost soul who deserves to be atop the
Cliffs edge where they can once again watch
Another hopeful sunrise of hope break on the
Mundane horizon.
Swathi eruvaram Jan 2015
Last birthday you hadn't uttered your words yet
Now you are nearly two
You were half asleep uttering those words I craved for
Happy birthday mama
It was sweeter than sugar
You clinged onto me and were in your sleepland again
We wore matching attires
Mellow in yellow
Lit the candles on the luscious chocolate cake you chose for me
As always I made a wish for you
Off we blew the flickering flame
I held your hand and we dived into the cake gently
You loved it the moment it touched your lips
And asked for more and more
Mama chose your favourite cuisine for the afternoon, Chinese
You couldn't resist any longer
The moment food arrived, you slurped in every strand of Hakka noodles with some tofu
After a quick nap, evening was playtime
The ball pool area was awaiting your entry
Up the stairs, down the slide; up the *****, down the stairs
It was all yours
More fun time with sand play sets, alphabets, shapes and many more
I stood there watching you enjoy the day
I wanted it to be your day
I don't remember what birthdays used to be before you
I am glad I am not alone anymore
Love you baby
olivia grace Sep 2013
liquid
substance

rocks
substance

smoke
substance

can’t remember
substance

which substance?

abuse
abuser
abusie

abooozie
*****
abuse

fill up my cup
abuse

fill up my pipe
abuse

fill up my syringe
abuse

fill up my veins
abuse

fill up my heart til it’s beating hard enough for me to feel alive
abuse

feed the mermaid in my kneecaps with glitter liquid
abuse

any kind
abuse

to make me forget
abuse

just want to use
abuse

to make me forget the pain
when he lays hands on me
lays his own
abuse
on me

someone once told me, substance abusers are weak
face your problems head on
why do you need to see stars before you wake up
why is coke your coffee
why is whiskey your orange juice
why is **** your pancakes

and I say
if I am weak
then how come I can cling onto the clouds

perhaps, if I could live to be 1000 years old
I will have clinged to the clouds long enough for them to get sick of me

but for now, those clouds are my demons
and I’ve never loved the color red
so much
Aditi Oct 2014
Dear
the gost of his love,
You keep
haunting,
taunting
and reminding me
of
your love
and
what could have been

I see your face
in the crowd,
in every guy
who ever smiles at me
it's you.
Please stop.
You know
I loved you so
Not a single shooting star
exists
that was not wasted upon you
but now
my 11:11 wish is
for the clock to
stop ticking
and use its arms to
strangle me instead
So that I could
finally be free.
Free
from having
all my energy
spent on
trying to keep my **** together
in a vain attempt to
keep  myself
from falling apart
to pieces
in front of everyone
why don't you understand?
I love you
I love you
I love you
My heart beats with this rhyme
I love you more than i have ever loved aNYTHing
The pictures that you sent
still live in my phone
and the wind keeps whispering your name
and i have stopped looking a t the night sky
two bright stars reminded me of your eyes once
and
i see you in everything-
the first drop of rain,
a child's laughter
a tree's shelter on a summer day
I never wanted to let you go
but i had to
it was between you and him-
one who gave me life
and you
who became my life
and i owe you both
and i love you both
but he needs me a little more than you do
and so i chose Dad
but i love you.
I just could not burn their dreams
And use that as a light
That would guide
Me to you
I just could not break their hearts
To keep mine in one piece
No,
I could not break my old house
So that i could make a new with you.
And so i decided to loosened the grip
But it was you who walked away!
I knew you had
But don't blame me for what happened
i still hold on to you,
i clinged to your memories
like a drowning person
clings to a rope
thrown to him
And holding on to you hurts
so please set me free
please.
I love you, i love you please come back or take this ghost of your love you, please!
Curtis Gainey Feb 2010
From the day that I met her she clinched onto my heart
I knew this was gonna be love right from the very start
It’s extremely difficult to erase her from my mind
This girl was attached to me and that’s no lie
I said a few words and she was already swept off her feet
It seemed like I was the guy she desperarely wanted to meet
She clinged herself on me and dosen’t want to get off
Her words instantly makes my emotions grow soft
In just days we went from best friends to lovers
Who knew that we would end up being with each other


I would go through hell and high water just to defend her honor
I will do everything in my power and my will just to charm her
I could mess up my entire life and she’d still be there for me
She intensely loved me to death whether I was cool or corny
There’s nothing in this world that can destroy her love
It’s pretty clear that in her eyes that I’m her chosen one


Not even my parents’ love was intense than hers was
In her mind trying to grab my heart was really a must
Many times she would trap me in her intense lust
For whatever the reason she declared me the king of her soul
With this honor I will cherish her love and never make her feel cold
That’s how I am, I can never break a girl’s heart
In her life I definately play a very important part
I could even hate her and she’d still fall head over heels for me
But I don’t want to feel that way all because she really supports me


She’s been hurt repeatively throughout her life
Never once did she ever live her entire life right
Her mom gave her up and her dad wouldn’t support her
Basically there was nobody in her life there for her
No one to lift her spirits when she was down
Everyday her face would always be in a frown
Tears would flood her eyes night after night
Hoping that love would come in her sight
Older sister leaving bruise marks all over her body
It sounds like her step-parents left her heart rotting


All this time she was looking for a prince to save her
She spent her whole life finding someone to not hate her
She found the happiness in me and now won’t let go of me
To a lot of people it’s easy to tell that she really does love me
She engraved my full name into her heart
Easy to tell that her life Ieft a very big mark
There’s nothing that I can do to change her opinion about me
Her luck started to change ever since the day that she found me
Since that day she never wanted to let go of my hand
She constantly sees me everyday as her loving man
She’d even die just to protect my spirits


And wants me as her sweet loving dearest
And to think that she would feel that way after only small talk
I know if something happened to me her heart would just stop
I’m the only person in this entire universe that she actually wants
Even willing to pump her blood in my heart
She says in her life I had created a new start
The farther away I am from her the stronger her love grows
Why she feels this way to be honest I don’t really know
I showed up in her life and that’s how things got started
I guess it’s because of the fact that I’m really big hearted
She’s so attached that her worst nightmare is us being departed


Whenever she’s in trouble, I’ll become her superman
If I fall to failure I know for sure that she’ll understand
No matter what happens she forever branded me as her guarding angel
She will always be by my side whether when times are good or fatal
She’s had a rough life and it’s up to me to create her happy ending
When it comes to taking away the pain, it’s me that she’s depending
Her love is so intense and strong for me that I swear I’m not pretending


She’ll even give her life away with her blood in my hands
I’m gonna try to please and satisfy her in anyway I can
I know it’s up to me to dry her tears
And it’s up to me take away her fears
I know **** well that she’s suffered a lot
And it’s up to me to give her what she wants
She gave me her heart and it’s up to me not to break it
I know that in this relationship that we can definatley make it
Constantly sending me messages over the internet hour after hour
I’m destined to make her waking moment sweet and never sour


She’ll stop at nothing just to be in my presence
Showering me with her love is atually a present
She gave me the trust to carry her heart
Now it’s up to me not to break it apart
The last thing I ever want to is to break her trust
I have to lift up her spirits and that’s a must
I’ll be the pillow that she can cry into when she’s upset
I’m destined to be the best human being that she ever met
I’ll be the soilder who rescues her from all the pain and misery
Take her away from the sea of sorrow, her suffering will be history


No matter what road may lay ahead infront of me I will always be there to defend her love
When it comes in bringing her an endless life of happiness she choose me to be the one
She choose me to be her knight and shining armor
And I will do whatever I can in my power to charm her.
Ariel Hill Oct 2014
He asked me then
as we stared at the strawberries
lit in the fluorescent grocery store lighting
adjacent in their plastic coffins
red and ripe
clearly evesdropping

“do you love me?”

I hadn’t ever thought about it before
but I guess I did.

“but are you in love with me?”

their green stems were a reminder of home
their severed ends a scar of the violence they endured
yellow seeds clinged to their polished red bodies
the small taste of bitter to remind you,
nothing can be that sweet all the time

I cocked my head to one side
They had me captivated
I wanted their taste
Their raw delicious flesh

$5.99?

****. Too much.



“No.


                                              I’m not in love with you.”




Oh, thank God.

The blueberries are on sale.
Dennis Kontoulis Mar 2015
i remember
in an autumn thunderstorm,
you clung desperately to me underneath our umbrella
you told me you were scared of storms, but that you loved them, and i find now that that was the best way to describe my love for you.  
a storm that brewed.  
but a storm that i grew attached to.
i fell in love with you in thunderous explosions of orange and blue
the fall was our favorite season but i had no idea just what the **** i was falling into
i thought that when i looked into your eyes i’d realized what i really truly wanted in my life
and that was to be healed by those ******* eyes
thunder shook you but lightning bounced straight from your throat and into my chest
you stopped my heart
you left me with a nasty scar that clung to me like doctor’s stitchings.
so i tore at them,
ripping charred flesh from my muscles almost as swiftly as my pen strokes against paper
it became muscle memory
and those memories of us beneath that clouding sky weigh me down
shackling and chaining me to your promises
grounded on the cracking asphalt of your street titled clover but that street was anything but lucky for us
because it had more potholes than your ******* promises
i have waited a month and a half to write this poem
and the only thing that has kept me awake until three in the morning
was the fact that you had the nerve to cling to the sweater in the bottom drawer of my nightstand
stained with your promises, your memory, your fears and your bravery
every glance, touch, kiss, smile, punch, tear, tear of fabric,
and every booming sob that left my body for the first time in five years
i can’t even cry when i read my writing about you
that was another aspect of me you clinged to
and something i couldn’t cling to
do you know how much damage you’ve dealt me?
mirrors i gaze into feel cracked
shards of glass better describing who i am now than who i once was
broken
and you broke me human
but still used me
as your umbrella
like i was worth something
worth more than all the things you’d made me
in an autumn thunderstorm
from a rough patch
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
I had a dream the other night, guess who was the star?
Sitting in a smoke filled room, it was an old man's bar.

Drinking old man's drinks, made with scotch and rye,
What should I see with my bloodshot eye?

A beautiful girl appeared, and clinging to her thighs,
This skintight dress made all of silk, designed in just your size.

In her hand she had a smoke, and blew some in my face,
I tried to grab the dress in back, but couldn't get the lace.

Coughing and choking I looked at her, as she walked away,
I got excited watching her walk; her hips did dip and sway.

By now it's pretty obvious, member hard in my pants,
Walked right up behind her and asked, honey do you dance?

When finally I saw her face, much to my surprise,
Guess who was starring back at me, I wouldn't tell you lies.

My beautiful Josephine was looking in my eyes,
Silky blonde hair on her head, that dress grabbed her thighs.

She said, hey baby I'm standing here, will it take all night,
For you to come and kiss my lips, and try to get it right.

I laid my lips across her face and got a big wet kiss,
Suddenly my dream was done; I woke in the abyss.

Looking at the night table, what there should I find?
An ashtray with some stale smoked butts, happened to be your kind.

I got right there out of bed, and on something I did slip,
The hot silk dress I dreamed about, that clinged all to your hip.

Upon hitting the floor and banging my head, I heard a soft low voice,
Are you ok? She said to me, to answer I had no choice.

I'm ok love of mine, I'll come right back to bed,
When finally getting close to her, I kissed her on the head.

Was it real or did I dream, what difference does it make,
My loves warm body next to mine, her heart is what I take.

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Was she but the fallen
Come down to raise an Arcadian hell,
Avoiding peace in graceful slalom,
Encased in her callous breathing shell,

Most would describe her as the Cacodemon,
With the eyes of baleful sin,
Defined by her nefarious inner demon,
That had beguiled her sanity to its whim,

She breathed of ethereal indignation,
Sought upon her by trenchant thoughts,
Damning her for indulging in feelings as dissipation,
By those who seek defamatory purity as frauds,

She was the unwanted succubus,
Whose earnest beauty cost too high a price,
Her darkly alluring convictions were a neuritis,
Brought too bare all adamant admirers vice,

She was thought to be the rakshasa,
Condemned for safeholding her own heart,
Not wanting persue any psychodrama,
Not wishing for a reckless counterpart,

So she clinged to her hellhounds,
To hold at bay any contemptuous intruder’s,
And so they dub her hell bound,
Ignorant of her past patronizing prosecutors.

She is the Cacodemon,
As she shuts her gates from all,
Trusting none acclaimed shaman,
As she has already been judged to fall
Amanda Lee Oct 2014
Her hands clinged around the pencil,
as if it were the last thing she'd touch.

Her head cleared in spite of the noise,
thinking only of the boy she loved.

As the noise began to rise,
her head began to grow.
And the gardens she used to plant,
rapidly began to glow

Imagination, such a scary place to hide,
in a room of introverts, secrets, and kids who want to die.

A crowded room, a pencil and wind that struck so coldly,
how could one ever be around people yet still feel so lonely?
Wonderless
Regine Howl Oct 2013
She's riding in my passenger seat, telling me about the girl who won't separate the sheets
Steering wheel hot under my hands as I drive down a service road miles away
The whiskey shots she had early hit my nose, and acid burns my eyes
Cause you're riding shotgun and I can feel the bleeding in my mind

I haven't spoken to you in months, despite your hidden attempts
Longer still, since I've seen you under the night sky with your love at your side
It has been almost a year since I kissed you last
I can taste you now because I smelled the mix of cigarettes and bourbon

Years it's been since I've known you, if ever at all
The dust in my car clings to the bits and pieces that remind me
***** amplifies the fact that your skin cells and hair are probably still embedded in the seats
Next to me the girl is still talking about the god ****** laundry

Just yesterday my email put me into a panic
There was your name, asking for friendship, within a cloak of invisibility of course
The tab flashed as brightly as a siren to me yet I didn't move nor budge
WBF he asked, just for a second, no more

No more, well how convenient for you isn't it?
It's always within your time frames, when you need it
Never friends when I have been crushed, when I lay cursing you in your last shirt you left
Abandoned on my floor

I hit the blinker, turn down the workhorse, and nod my head
Trying not to breathe deeply while agreeing with whatever she said
I dropped her off at the liquor store and as she slammed the door
My throat burned with a scream that you would never hear

Two long years, your scent stayed with me
In my hair, in my heart, in my bed
Even though you were happy in CO, living with your high school sweetheart
And I was home, fighting with mine instead

You came back, she ruined you is what you claimed
I left him and tried all the wrong ways to save you
So we fell asleep too many times together on someone else's couch
And after telling me you loved me and begging me to return it, you left me

Said you were in love, with a girl who hate ****** you
Screamed the word perpetuated into the phone
and that wound is the rotting hole that you used to be kept safe in
A soul that was so tightly wound with your snores and your thoughts and your beastly smile

The car is parked, and I do not cry for you even with the feeling
Like you could be right here, trying hard not to love my car dancing and my real laugh
I am a smart girl, I say today just as I did yesterday
Smart girl furious that I made it all up

I thought I knew the boy in the combat boots picking flowers
I believed him when he cried onto me and swore I wasn't a joke
That he wasn't saying them behind my back, the one he clinged to when he made love
That's what he told me we did, I said we were making stories

I forget from time to time, but I am furious that I believed him
That he let me believe him
More than anything, he was supposed to be my friend
He wanted me to be invisible
ATILA Nov 2018
DAY 1
I read about a very long list of phobias, these are the examples;

● astratophobia = fear of thunder and lightning
● paraskavedekatriaphobia = fear of Friday the 13th
● cacophobia = fear of ugliness ><
● ligyrophobia = fear of loud noises
● onomatophobia = fear of hearing a certain word or name
● peladophobia = fear of bald people
● hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia =fear of long words :D

Eventually I discover that all of us have phobia of this one; HADEPHOBIA. Fear of Hell.


DAY 2
"Make your foot rare at the house or your fellowman,
that he may not have his sufficency of you."
[Proverb 25:17]


DAY 3
A genuine smile is the most attractive thing you can wear,
it is absolutely universal and rarely could not bear.


DAY 4
We verily created man and We know what his soul whispereth to him,
and We are nearer to him than his jugular vein.
[Quran 50 : 16]


DAY 5
Man, whose past is a clot - a clinged drop something related to *****, whose abdomen at present is filled with what he excretes and whose future is to become the rotting dead body of grave.

How flawed are us.


DAY 6
"I call a man who understands the suffering of others as a religious man."
- Mahatma Gandhi


DAY 7
Aisha said, "I brought some soup which I had cooked, and told Sawdah (the 2nd wife of Prophet Muhammad PBUH), with the Prophet sitting between her and me. 'Have some!' but she declined. I said: 'You either eat or I smear your face.' She would not eat, so I took some soup from the bowl and smeared her face. Allah's Messenger laughed and lifted his feet off the floor. He said to Sawdah: 'Smear her face!' So she took some from the bowl and smeared my face, and Allah's Messenger kept laughing."


DAY 8
Human imperfection is not here to scare us,
it is here to bring out the best of us.
so that we can be like a severely bent tree that continues to produce good fruits despite of its incovenient position or angle from the ground.


DAY 9
Noah is referred to as the 2nd Adam since mankind started afresh from his time, after the deluge and complete destruction of mankind. Therefore, a 2nd part or phase in the mankind history started from him.


DAY 10
Powerful telescopes enable this civilization to see far into the space,
but sometimes due to the 'blindness' in its right eye, it fails to see the Creator's hand in it.


DAY 11
“A new command I give you: Love one another.
As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
[John 13 : 34-35]


DAY 12
A knowledgeable person is he who is never satisfied with what he has learnt and also adds the learning of other people to his knowledge.
- A hadith qudsi


DAY 13
Be as gentle as the whispering breeze
Spread solace to the world we’re in
Let your heart and soul be a mirror clear

Yet when you master all of this
Forget not your neediness
Were it not from God’s grace
None of this can be achieved!


DAY 14
"Have they not reflected within themselves?
Allah did not create the Heavens and the earth and everything between them except the truth and for a fixed term.
Yet many people reject the meeting with their Lord."
[Ar-***, 30:8)


DAY 15
One of internet culture is keep searching for a prey to harass or bash. And there is this saying, "Give a man a mask and he will show his true face.” Just because you can hide your identity online, it doesn't mean you can harass and bash other people freely. Be mindful. Be kind.


DAY 16
"And when My servants ask you (O Muhammad), concerning Me – indeed I am near.
I respond to the invocation of the supplicant when he calls upon Me.
So let them respond to Me (by obedience) and believe in Me that they may be (rightly) guided.”
[Al-Baqarah, 2:186]


DAY 17
Prophet PBUH said: "No calamity befalls a Muslim but that Allah expiates some of his sins because of it, even though it were the ***** he receives from a thorn."
[Narrated by Bukhari]


DAY 18
The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
[Psalm 9 : 9]


DAY 19
Even when life is frail
God's love prevails
It never fails.

Jonah's life was frail when he was in the whale, but God's prevailed, it did not fail.


DAY 20
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
[Psalm 46 : 1]


DAY 21
"There are times when I want to die so badly, I think the need itself will **** me. Of course, it never does. I always dream of better places, how anime life and 2D things are so much better than real life, where I could actually become something and be something other than stupid me. I have made so many stupid decisions. I can't keep a secret about myself, because I am so stupid and naive and stupid and dishonest. I'm useless and an idiot and a ******* and I can't do anything right, I can't make right decisions, I can't even **** myself. It's impossible. But I still want to die."
- a diary of a depressed girl


DAY 22
● "He is the only one without a second." [Chandagya Upanishad 6, 2:1]

● "Of Him there are neither parents nor Lord." [Svetasvatara Upanishad 6, 9]

● "There is no like Him." [Svetasvatara Upanishad, 4:19]

● "There is no likeness of Him whose name is a great glory." [The Principle Upanishad by S. Radhakrishnan]


DAY 23
● "Hear O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord." [Deutronomy 6:4]

● "I, even I, am the Lord; and beside Me there is no savior." [Isaiah 45:5]

● "I am God, and there is no one else; I am God, there is none like me." [Isaiah 46:9]


DAY 24
“You shall have no other Gods before me.
You shall not make for yourself a carved image,
or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above,
or that is in the earth beneath,
or that is in the water under the earth.
You shall not bow down to them or serve them,
for I the Lord your God am a jealous God."
[Exodus 20: 3-5]


DAY 25
According to biological law, our body cells ought to renew themselves indefinitely thereby leaving us; human, not knowing old age or aging or death at all! So biologically speaking, we could be always young, agile, dynamic, vigorous and absolutely defect-free in our immune system. But hey, imperfection is here."


DAY 26
“To all those suffering from sadness or depression, know that it isn’t your fault. It isn’t because you’re weak. It isn’t because you’re just not grateful enough. It isn’t because you’re just not religious enough. It isn’t because you don’t have enough faith. It isn’t because God is angry with you. To all the well-meaning people who tell you this, just smile. And know deep in your heart that the tests of God come in different forms to different people. And know that, by the help of God, every test can become a tool to get closer to Him. And that, verily, with hardship come ease–and like all things of this world–this too shall pass.”
- Yasmin Mogahed


DAY 27
We may not see the literal or initial being of God, but we can eventually see His display of power or evidence of His being or presence in what becomes or results manifest to us, be it in creation or in our very own existance or make up.


DAY 28
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
[Psalm 147 : 3]


DAY 29
After all, our innermost thoughts and feelings affect what we talk about and even how we look.

_______________
Hi! This may not a poem :') During the last Ramadhan (about five months ago), I had set in mind to read lots of books to cheerish this holy month with at least, a good deed. So, this is a compilation of what was I reading from the 1ST day until the last day of Ramadhan. Enjoy!
........ SUICIDE NOTE UNWRITTEN........

Go deep fade away and leave me be,
Your friendship was but sorrow to them that have long known you before now.
You've followed me way too long on forlorn road,
Right from my infant you've clinged way too well than blood to veins and bark to trees.

Leave and return no more, not in my quietude, should you  be found like lost coin in day of lack
For all we've been, We've had no pleasure but pain,
You held but dirge for all that have known you.
You were the strange story told of them,
A story so dark and scary that hearts feared to hold.

You were the solemn whisper from the cold evening wind,
Evening touched by sorrow and despair.
You have no good sound but of sorrow and pain
Your melodies count but threnody, elegy, coronach, requiem, and lament.

Go farther in million miles and be lost in seasons gone by, lest your tone resound in my solitude,
You eerie note of evil whisper and solemn sound
That sink in deep the soul and spirit.
Our union should never be spoken in words nor be told in tales of time.

For I myself shall tell no story for us, neither will I lay to heart all that we've had in time well lost.
I shall trace no more the path we once trod.
Go, sink deep far away be lost in oblivion,
You the perfect stranger long known by misery,
The solemn friend of the doomed.
Angela May 2011
Wise and wistful Njal    perched pleasantly in the heart of Iceland
Vengeance victory and voluptuous vial veined through Flosi    Njal as innocent as an infant
His demeanor held neither mediocrity nor morals    but rather an emotion enthralled ego
Cooled cinders clog Flosi's heart to a stone    To unfurl the expression in an utmost barbaric action
He recollects ways to reclaim rotten ridden revenge   pondering upon which way will win
In one breath of fiery hell Flosi embarked his plan    a sheepish grin gambled graciously on his hard face
The house engulfed in silk flames of scarlet    the blood curdling cries of children never ceased
Onyx hazes of smoke of smoke danced on the top of the roof    taunting the flames to devour more
Flosi's eyes excitedly enlightened in excitement    his perilous plan appeared promising
He laughed lively at the feat   the hysterical hollers of children was suddnely muted
Several silent minutes passed    spirits of ashes resurrected from the charred house
The air was stale    sparse dull life clinged to hold its existence
Bleached black bones held close to each other in a cluster   combusted cloth clothed the cluster
Two tiny tinged skeletons lay in heavy heaps    almost as if they were holding hands
But no longer did the embrace last  no longer did the home host habitability
This sadistic outcome shed no tears for Flosi   he enjoyed the revolting wrath of revenge ever so
He shadowed over the remains of bones and timber   boastfully bubbling blissfully in excitement
kicking the bones like dry dirt   Flosi continued to walk around the ash ridden land
His leather boots crisping in the hot coals   his callused hands thrusting in the air expressing victory
He beaconed a shrill of success   tears trembling down his face
Flosi has won   revenge has ridden him once more
This was an assignment for a World Lit elective class in school. The poem is subjected towards the The Story of Burn Njal. This poem is in inspired Anglo Saxon format. Enjoy.
Dark soul Mar 2016
If she's still reading the poems i told her not to
I wouldn't mind anymore
because my mind is filled with too much paranoia to give a **** now
i have my episodes where I can't forget things
well lets just stay
i am on a loop
well you made things too explicit
took away the one thing you knew i clinged onto
can't act as free as i was back then
well thanks for cutting down the wings which now i grew one again
am still in contact with you
just being the way i was
and will be
and I would like to hear it from you this time that you made it till here reading not accepting these things into your brain
I don't know why I can't let loose on this ****
and i write this after a long time
because i am on one of those episodes right now
thinking of your maybe deceit
If you are reading this , you prove out to be filled with back stabbing treachery .
a gift to you my beloved .
you are gonna regret if you are already here
By reading this you just failed yourself a little more .....
hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
This is for a certain someone not on HP ....hope you guys get the scenario
JHT Jan 2015
Hereabouts was inearthed the grief of an infatuate;
Beneath the moonlight and clinged by deception;
Thou, one and only sol in the murkiness;

Pour spilled, imbrued the prediction away from the windfall;
Thou, who laughed there then shivered forsakenly?
presumed a northwind that never ******* here;

Was life span soundless as the unnaturalness of the ambiguity?
conversed without confab, forsaken the anguish each one raindrops;
Hasten the broken heart in the wake of thee;

When silhouette remains anonymous, hence thou stand synonymous;
thence it's tiring to imitate its fascination;
how afflicts sweet taste of hyperbole from a guileless lip;

Thou laud me, when thou stare me in emptiness;
Thou palter me, when thou don't seek about my beauty;
Thou vanished, when thou don't see amore anymore...
Mahesh Hegde Dec 2013
A girl loves a boy,
He too loves her,
They get Warm being each other's sun,
And if its winter, together they stir.

It all started by him with a hi,
And his second sentence was, "I love you."
Obviously it was a scary surprise for her, hahaha
Her "oh" expression, he wished if he could see, her confused hue.

She said, "I can't see it happen between us",
Didnt matter, even the intense Claim,
A girl he always longed for, in her, he would see,
And couldnt take it when the distance came.

But then didnt know how that happened,
Maybe really Love travels through air,
She called him one day after 2160 hours,
And after few months, had been considered all his prayers.

They kissed while the sun rose,
Everyone asked, "why the smile, without any reason.?",
They cuddled together when the moon came,
Love enhancing with the changing seasons.

In between, came a destructive lightening,
And it hit amidst their legs, while they stood in rain,
Fire was raging hot to vapourise the shelter,
And this time came that painful distance again.

Temper was at its peak on his mind,
Tears were shed by her at night,
Their world seemed to be so dull at that time,
Even the Pain felt the guilt, for its action, by that sight.

And then that happened which was meant to,
Because Love always finally wins,
She pushed ******* him while, with all his force, he tried to pull her in,
Sunlight with mild mist made them realise,
That love was now about to pour down from the brim.

Then they hugged again and lips of theirs clinged,
To lead a new life in the nova's glow,
She said, "I knew you would come again for me"
He replied, "And I knew that you would never go".
Francisco DH Dec 2013
There is a fog
It dragged it's legs on the floor
Using it's arms to pull it's self towards me
I watched it with eyes
A superstitious person would wear.
It pushed it self up.
Reached for my clothes
Tugged on my clothes
Clinged to my clothes.
Then it left.
JenChi Mar 2014
A match with the slightest, indeliberate provoktion,
wraths a sudden conflagration.

The depth of words, found in hate and bitterness,
disgustingly project with hope of hurt.

Revenge is worst when once kind gestures turned to grudges
are clinged, to be backfired.

Enough has been enough.
I'm not sorry anymore
For you being insecure
Show boating your nickles and dimes
Pursuiting happiness through lines
Hit your head while upside down
When you come crashing from that cloud
What is it you have left?
Nobody left at your side
Certainly not pride
Emma Potter Apr 2015
Ember evanescent lashes put and is in horriabke conditions to tiffnay trying to do someth in ng mice and gettting punished by a HP poet lashout?I wi,t b e surprised if embers folliwers lower.this is her recent lash

"Ember Evanescent   Dec 2, 2014
Well, tbh Im not "happily" changing. I find no joy in losing what I clinged to for so long then watching as my internal demons demolish all that I ever loved and im not changing at the same speed as anyone I just watch as my life that I cared about alters and crumbles, there is no beauty in a changing world and myself if that change stems from a disease of the mind that melts away all hope." speaking poetry language jn which tiffany loves is ember trying to ease the pain or make it worse?
Two lashouts NOT ACCEPTIABLE TIFFNAY GOLD WANTS TO HAVE FRIENDS AND FOLLOWERS NOT JUST PEOPLE WHO PRESS LIKE ON RANDOM POEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!=-O =-O =-O =-O =-O =-O =-O =-O =-O :~ :-$ :-)):-} :-* :-} >:) :'( :-\ :-\ :-[ :-( :-$ :' -(
Armand-DeamoJC Oct 2018
I am not your Romeo,
nor your Antonio
You are the beauty in power
and the sweet after sour
The sovereign of my heart
from the utmost start
To where we are now
From down there below

We are free doves
Where none loves
Only flow with the wind
Where darkness clinged
White doves come along
With too many white lies
Black doves, move along
With such depressing pre-lives
Mir Aug 2015
I was jealous of the way he looked at her,
Envious because she got to stare into the beautiful gentle eyes
I craved the way he held her tight, slightly protected, stabilizing himself onto her
Dying for the way she clutched onto his arm, keeping herself steady on him
Obsessed by the way they clinged to each other
Wishing it was me
Wishing it wasn't her
Priya Devi Jul 2015
She fuelled all my bad habits in the best way possible.

I've never met perfection but she was the closest I ever came to feeling worthy of someone above mediocracy.

She judged me, dissected me, took what she wanted from me,
bus tickets and all.
Took my opinions and moulded them into a formula for the perfect human,

She was the dirt that clinged to my skin
like whispers of where ive been without telling a soul

And i let her be everything when I was her nothing
I let her
I let her devour me whole
and I gave her every last morsel of my soul
and let her wipe her sin stained hands all over my insecurities,
leaving me sullied,
even more so than before.

I let her take my hand and drag me to hell
because it meant I would be by her side
burning.
What I didn't realise was that she had an escape route planned,
my only escape was to grow accustomed to flames.

It seems it's the people who you love the most are the people who you allow to hurt you more than any physical pain you ever felt before. Because pain of the body will heal, you cannot repair trust or hearts the like a punctured tire

She took my hand and told me 'chin up buttercup, you'll never be the first, the last, or the only **** up'

She lit me up
Took a drag from my roll up
Flashed me a smile that would make every sinner weak at their knees

But she's in love with a New Yorker now

And that was the end of us
theblndskr Jun 2015
Dubious mortals, t'is the world detest!
Souls clinged on ceaseless heeds
Sun sets then dawns still reckon, I say:
"In sync we'll quest, my friend."

T'is seeking life, they termed "tedious"
I label, "genious"! It's phenomenal!
God made limited edition seeds
And that's "WE", sprouted "confused".

We'll die nameless of society's creed
Ashes dispersed in the air they breathe
Hmmm, Unless you want a tomb w/
your grandchildren's footprints?!

Clear-cut answers, we'll never get. But still I owe to you this belief
                              that questions are worth asking.


For I met you saying "sorry"
And so, I always worry.
How bad the world could be to us,
That  you'll accept "no sorry"...
For a special  friend I bully from Mon-Sat, so I'll say "sorry".  :))
Go deep fade away and leave me be,
Your friendship was but sorrow to them that have long known you before now.
You've followed me way too long on forlorn road,
Right from my infant you've clinged way too well than blood to veins and bark to trees.

Leave and return no more, not in my quietude, should you  be found like lost coin in day of lack
For all we've been, We've had no pleasure but pain,
You held but dirge for all that have known you.
You were the strange story told of them,
A story so dark and scary that hearts feared to hold.

You were the solemn whisper from the cold evening wind,
Evening touched by sorrow and despair.
You have no good sound but of sorrow and pain
Your melodies count but threnody, elegy, coronach, requiem, and lament.

Go farther in million miles and be lost in seasons gone by, lest your tone resound in my solitude,
You eerie note of evil whisper and solemn sound
That sink in deep the soul and spirit.
Our union should never be spoken in words nor be told in tales of time.

For I myself shall tell no story for us, neither will I lay to heart all that we've had in time well lost.
I shall trace no more the path we once trod.
Go, sink deep far away be lost in oblivion,
You the perfect stranger long known by misery,
The solemn friend of the doomed.
Alicia Hubert Mar 2013
Have you ever played with fire?
Felt the heat reach for your skin?

Embraced the rush of discovering the meaning of risks?
Clinged to the intensity of the danger you're in?

A little burns at a time,
in our young teenage hearts.

The more you feed it,
the bigger it gets,
the more alive you feel.

That's why I love playing with fire,
but one day I'm gonna get burned
and that's what scares me the most.
Inspired by The Runaways.
Jay Mar 2016
i am flesh clinged to bones
forced to follow the script just like the rest
yet my rebellious demons
start fighting against this innocent disguise
they shred it at every edge
struggling to escape, they now appear
as the frightening dark creatures
theyve always been in there
now that i am stripped down
to my naked soul
you shall see
the monsterous masterpiece i chose to not reveal
MDRMS Jan 2013
Feet shuffling across
Wooden floor
Leaving whispers
In the cracks

Your eyes clinged
In mine
I let you go
I take you back

Your hand rests
On my shoulder
I can feel your muscles
Tense

And when our hearts
They synchronize
Every beat
Makes sense.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2019
.hey, so much for jack kerourac's on the road... but i have found this most pristine tour-guide... as that h'american hobo... "7 years later" duping the tourists down in Amsterdam... h'american... what else? well it's hardly the Nepal you were looking for... or those grand sand of Arabia with a Lawrence: better suited for a... what do "we" call them? androids... david... citing: the trick is: not minding that it hurts... stoicism or some otherwise weathered down, other... point of (a) queue? and yes... red hot chilli pepper's song: warm tape... off the album... i forget... is underrated... in between the salvos of... those lyrics based around a "narrative"... but when the chorus comes in? melted butter in a thick spludge of crème fraîche.... yes... i want to love like a john frusciante... but i know i never will... i see too much economics to: "bed the pardon"... ****... "beg" the the pardon... the girls i once loved have probably forgotten me... moved on... the prostitues "in-between" were always "her" tailor of best arranged hair via - gay riddles of "the cut" via never having to mind a barber... and all those manicures! mein gott! there was a time and a place to squeeze in politics of the "fathomable" populace... and a "perhaps a chance" to raise children? dire consequences... to no avail of... the otherwise prior mentioned: straits... there were times in my life when i felt in love... that i could give give give and never ask for anything in return... lucky for me i started to age and not perform the portrait gray act of stay-young-forever-young-vampire... i clinged to love, once... it was such a beautiful spring... a spring that could last within its season a spell of over 5 years... then... reality and autumn and a need to dispell delusions... she probably still "loves me"... with someone else... cameo cinema of memory? where, am, i? love, oh love, what a burden, a hurdle, a responsibility... it's never this quickened escape ease of breath lodged into fiction... somehow always constricting, somehow always burdensome... somehow and somewhat always... never the homeless cherry picking of mutt that made it to an elevation of being under the christmas tree! why would i have children "these days"... well... there's no history i'd be allowed to teach them... and modern day-old journalism? i thought the people were only willing to fudge bulimia down the throats of their "listeners"? i still want to love like a john frusciante... perhaps that's the mosti can offer... best sentenced to a riddle escaped with at a bechance of keeping distance.

being a video-tourist with roosh v:
the sort of h'america i always wanted to see...
like... gaining another 50ml shot
of whiskey under the belt and notches...
is like... imagining *******
ava lauren in a 1970s italian ***** movie
style... when even *** in a pornographic
movie feels: sensual...
joel osteen... an iron maiden gig
looks... just the same...
when the skin becomes a sterile experience
of leather: when wearing shoes...
and a belt...
when this worn skin becomes
this most adored leather...
when the exhausted "beauty"
of prostitutes becomes: something
equivalent to... working out the mandible
artifact... akin to the chew and jaw...
the old continent seems to sigh...
i once missed Handel's Messiah for a night
at the brothel with the Bulgarian harem...
the grand-orchestra of the acronym:
U! S! A! U! S! A! seems so vague and...
bewildering... i'd love to be an atheist in
h'america... so... ridicule prone and
the high-end sort of bag-full-of-counter-virtues...
but i just can't be...
i like being a god-fearing man...
skin... ****, i need to tend to my german:
wann haut wird leder...
akin to: when **** cheney half-had
a neu-herz...
we do come most humble...
we are, oh the most pristine: wenigkreaturen...
ZAMAR-ZNIĘTY... frozen... (he)...
unless... you see that R-Z outside of deutsche...
in the fwench: je, je SUIS! form...
hard to keep those two 'uckers together
in a rz-eton... (Ż)eton casino...
orthography... who am i to preach to a people
so... so figured out with their metaphysics
that orthography, quiet simply,
doesn't, concern them?!
i'm still thinking about ava lauren and
all that 1970s italian *****-sensuoso *******...
why not to forget? pontius pilate clause
akin to louis XIV paranoia:
the power lies in how "it" is perceived...
lying... i don't mind hearing about hog-mucking...
i just mind when it's don juan
mucking up a nun: that's not a nun...
i don't like hearing about:
the goat in sheep... in the mouth of a wolf...
i can stand metaphor...
i just don't like curtains made from iron...
or burgundy tinged silk...
or some other: BLATANT lie...
the one blatant focus for puritanical "superstitions"
of: third eye blind of the other is...
this... bogus f-ck-wit of an underbelly...
there really was a time when i wanted
to see little-life everyday-sort-of h'america...
how the... whittle people lived...
then i figured... no more and no less whittle
from where i'm sitting...
maybe i should be standing?
but at least i come from a continent where...
(a) a striptease is... like the slipped ****** pill
no one wants...
(b) the ****** don't bring their cameras
and film you while you're at it...
(c) and a (d) and an (e) that i will not even
debase myself with...
perhaps we do speak the same language...
but... that's as much as
relates shoeshine to a shoe
as it relates mewwy ol' england to this...
grand posturing that's the u. s. of... a.
perhaps i need to see the sights of: Moldova...
or... Switzerland...
last time i heard being land-locked is the new
best thing... given aeroplanes...
i did want to mid-west ****-hole h'america...
from england... eh... m'eh... all i need is to go east
of Germany... if i find myself in
the West Warsaw coach station...
i'm practically in Ukraine...
everything reeks of this... sediment of roach bathed
in rust... a perfume of mud,
concrete, and lazy metal...
and of course the doom and gloom of the skies...
like 25th of december in Chernobyl...
you just want to start aiming for sparrows
with a pellet gun and break your teeth
on sifting through dirt and haemorrhoids...
and by these standards?
punk will never bother to re-invent itself...
not with pink... and "pronoun concerns"...
or whatever you these days call a f-cking mullet...
and yes... because even if i could...
the white picket fence...
the 3 brats worth of a brood...
the gene patriarchy drive...
the alcoholic / neurotic spouse...
the dog name Bono...
and... each saturday a: bonfire of concerns
for my children's schooling...
sober: but the alternative is no better...
personally? as an "atheist"?
i'm not really thankful...
i can't be thankful for all of this...
last time i checked...
some people in this world are required
to have an omni-litany ruling over their ***-lives...
they want to feel: *****...
why would i even be an atheist?
to speak out something, snarky?
to be prone to... too much ridicule?
there's only so much comedy you can invest in,
before you realise: oh ****...
i'm not a stand-up!
this monologue has no stage...
no audience... it's going to eat me up
like any other solipsism without any escape
into a soliloquy!
atheism is a "thing" in h'america: no wonder...
who said it...
they're a bunch of puritans in public...
but in private? citizen porky?
you know... pig rubber masks and spandex
and s & m and... yawn...
a striptease is so condescending...
6 weeks of celibacy...
nothing: excuse me... *******?
i'm excused with the personal-relief...
yes, the line is drawn... once given the snip
but not the kippah?
em... **** galore: up in their air...
rotating toward... Mecca...
with the prayer...
like... i have the scalp to scratch my head
and ponder...
imagine if a circumcision was akin to scalping...
personally... do we even need ears?
i could be the first to say:
but not really...
a matrimony begins with...
the snippet... which transcends the symbology
of rings... i might as well see it as...
for a woman: she is to offer her virginity...
for a man? he is to offer his *******...
problem solved! Libra rejoice!
she gives up her virginity - which she will lose...
he gives up his ******* - which he will lose...
i can almost see Aaron making these
Levi demands...
what am i thinking...
i will never get to see ****-hole mustard seed
h'america... i'll sooner see Kazan...
but i still don't see the point of making
the loss of a woman's virginity to be equivalent
to a man losing his *******...
after all... prior to the snippet...
he'll *******... a woman will *******...
but... em... what the arm will not do:
the "oyster" will quench...
an i am a gentile figuring out the proper ways
of the monotheists...
speeded up eventuality of apes watching
the descent of dragons and dinosaurs...
bound to the noble profanity of swans...
and widow and widower swans...
brid-brains! of noble emotions!
huh?! no! not us!
i can see the point of male circumcision...
when it is brought with the virginity of a woman...
being circumcised with one woman
is much more than putting on a ring...
un-lucky for me... two protruding veins
like the caduceus worn into the skin of matrimony...
it's not simply that i won't:
i... can't...
hence my infernal tongue.

__________
one can only begin with: Б and В -
and then the nuance:
whatever "nuance" there was,
to genesis an adam and eve -
apple and: pears to combine
for the image of Иосифа лестница..
                  ц - ß - צ (tsade)
                   like one might begin with
something along the greek:
P and Π - amputee R...
rolls... rolls... past the goal-posts...
            the fwench hark
the english tarantula bitten
tongue-numb do not never will trill!
never mind:
       ščypta - szczypta - a pinch of salt...
wikipedia is so ******* wrong...
   щypta... it's a siamese grapheme!
thus shown... cisza: silence...
                       ciša..
ciШa...
                       you can rewrite ščypta /
szczypta in russian...
                     avoiding the щypta...
you can write: ШЧypta...
                     but given: щ (šč / szcz)?
                                    who's to argue?
here's my "revenge" against
organic chemistry's theoretical
electron migrations of schematics...
how about diacritical migrations?
more like electron ontology:
waves one minute, clouds the next...
czyszczoh...

https://www.google.com/search?safe=active&client=firefox-b-d&channel=trow&ei=vf84XaHyIMWHhbIPhtOPqA4&q=czyszczoch&oq=czyszczoch&gsl=psy-ab.3...750080.759383..760300...1.0..0.247.1771.0j9j2....­2..0....1..gws-wiz.......0i71j0i67j0i131j0j0i131i67j0i30j0i13j0i1­3i30j0i13i10i30.wqdfvbgw6Ck&ved=0ahUKEwjhxKfi787jAhXFQ0EAHYbpA-UQ4dUDCAo&uact=5
(8 goodle results, nearing a -whack)...

Czyszczoń:
                     čyščoń:

                  interlude: Ђ? in cyrillic? isn't that a hindi letter?
via a mirror akin to Я ?            

czyścioch:
                 ШЧ / Щ -ypta - pinch...
      ЧyCЬKIOX...
          someone pedantic about staying clean...

                           :
  if you ever became riddle by pure
chemistry theory, and never walked into a lab:
that also employed you,
wasted years: performing electron bogus
schematics of "electron migrations"
in organic chemistry compounds...
in experiments...
          university as that extended waste
of time period: beside heavily politico
mickey mouse concerns of the dept. of
the humanities...
  sociology et al., well then?
you're right where you belong!
    
how about: the migration of diacritical markers,
orthography before naked english...
how's that?
     english the adam and ever...
all other languages attired
in the niqab worth a god...
__________

as i sit perched on my folded foot on the windowsill,
having a ms. amber cocktail with ginger ale,
smoking a cigarette, i gravitate to the empty
standing rack of shelves...
  what remains on it, as the paint dries?
a tub of wall paint: fine rosemary,
       tissues, sunglasses,
                  a game sheath: chess and backgammon
in one... a c.d. walkman,
      20 copies of my curricul vitae,
a 1:26000 ratio map of Warsaw...
                                  heidegger's ponderings VII - XI,
a thin book of poetry:
    Πoετιc Oπτoμεtρy - by some vague unknown
semi-anon. Mateusz Conrad...
          i'm hoarding about 200 copies of this work,
perhaps this lazy sod will finally get to
send this printed copy, some raw manuscript
pieces and a covering letter to
          Austin Macauley Publishers:
sounds like a good deal...
  they accept any manuscripts, with or without
an agent, published or not published,
expect a 3 week wait...
a letter dated 16 April 2019 for an appointment
at the Community Outpatient Cardilogy Clinic
  (Dagenham RM8 2EQ)
               with Anamaria Lunca...
24h ambulatory blood pressure monitoring
   (aged 33? not bad... <insert a snigger>)...
Plato's Theaetetus,
               Man-Bat: part 1 of 3, 1st. part,
DC comics, chuck dixon, flint henry,
    eduardo barreto - Feb. 96 - two $2.25...
Doctor StrangeFate, Amalgam Comics,
      #1, Ron Marz, Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez,
Kevin Nowlan, April '96,
                                         $1.95...
Littlewoods F.A. Charity Shield:
Manchester United v Newcastle United
Sunday August 11 1996 Kick-off 3:00pm
Official Machday Proramme £5.00 -
venue? the old Wembley...
inside? another matchday programme...
West Ham v Manchester United
Barclays League Division One
Wednesday 22nd April 1992 kick-off 7:45pm
£1.50 for the programme...
- the mask returns: john arcudi (story),
doug mahnke (art),
      titan books, first edition October 1994...
Czeslaw Milosz - Zniewolony Umysł
     "Culture" Paris - 1953...
- Bartman: the best of the best 1st edition
January 1997...
- a few figurines...
   a porcelain tortoise: WADE - made in england,
a Kenyan shamanic totem -
a figure with a bloated belly and only one eye,
a polish clay cockerel,
           London's China town red figurine:
standing proud on coins of wealth roaring...
1986, my year, moderate wealth -
well... given this list... i had to move all
the books i own that are supposed to be on
these shelves into the hallway, some onto
the windowsill and some into the box room...
the paint has to dry...
          a boomerang...
                     a Wawel dragon figurine...
(hell, in the west the dragon is associated
with wealth... Smaug... in China the tiger
is associated with wealth... didn't know that)...
some amitriptyline 25mg tablets...
    tom waits: glitter and doom (live) -
seriously - there are only about ten albums
in this world where the live performance
outstrips the studio version,
notably? going out west...
                   a pencil and a piece of paper...
where i scribble my braille tally
to teach me how to drink sensibly
my two ciders and the banquet of whiskey:
currently standing at 4... ****...
oi! tender hands that never worked or
played the guitar, giv' us'us the braille
count to show you have no more fingers
than that tender index of yours!
                           ⠁⠃⠇⠧ ⠷ ⠿
                 it's working... 'nuf' said...
- virgil's the aeneid,
- h. p. lovercraft: against the world,
    against life - by michel houellebecq,
- NewScientist - 50th anniversary special
   (1956 - 2006)
- Bolshoi Ballet, Royal Opera House programme,
i won't be dropping names...
****, i will:
           karim abdullin - soloist,
        maria alexandrova - principal,
artemy belyakov - leading soloist,
yulia stepanova - soloist,
                igor tsvirko - leading soloist,
- three letters from a Magdalena
Wielgołaska -
handwritten letters and all,
a pen-pall i managed to pick up a conversation
with in Edinburgh when she was
working a b & b for the summer...
         very self-conscious about her
height... well... she did play volleyball...
- old notes from university:
history essays... all a solid 2:1 grades:
    matriculation no.: s0458467
   tutor: kirsty chatwood (canadian ****
who became pregnant, great sense of humour),
e.g. why were there so many rebellions
in Europe in the mid-seventeenth century
(word count: 1,991),
   how and why did Napoleon succeed in
establishing French power over so much
Europe? (word count: 1,956)... 2% shy of a 1st...
so... no, not even i can answer this question...
since i also own copies of...
a traffic management copy of
my organic lab schedule:
   synthesis and acetylation of ferrocene,
preparation of 7-trichloromethyl-8-bromo-Δ-p-pinene
by free radical addition of
   bromotrichloromethane to β-pinene,
the photochemical interconversion of trans-
and cis- azobenzenes,
witting synthesis and photochemical
   cyclodehydrogenation of 1-styrylnaphthalene...
silyl enol ethers: a directed aldol reaction...
i used to do this sort of "stuff"...
but the pièce de résistance while i moved
my private library from these shelves?
ahem...

                 E. O. Richter & Co.
                 Präcision
                 Kopernicus IX set...
                 das prazisions-reiszeug

i.e. the most pristine instruments for technical
drawings... the sort of technical drawings used
in metallurgy, engineering, architecture...
people would conflate a hoarder with me...
me? i'm a connoisseur...
             i respect the sort of materialism that
transcends that shallow form of materialism
that equates itself with immediate gratification
not as a per se: but as a tool to attract...
unwanted attention...
  flimsy materialism, gluttonous materialism...
a materialism that occupies space
and short-attention span gnats...
    materialism of a temporal rather than
a spatial nature? now we're talking!

   and here's to toasting this day...
tomorrow i will erase that fateful day that
coincided with me painting my room
crimson - the Bataclan Massacre...
fine rosemary pale hue will replace
these blood soaked walls that have become
my gallows...
                    a shade much less the green
of my own eyes... and perhaps...
my mind will rest with a mild lapse into
a curiosity of a serenaded mind:
         i'm not even looking for serendipity.

it really didn't occur to me with regards
to the state of h'america...
  once upon a time any european would
look toward h'america as this unified
continent of sorts...
  prime cultural export juggernaut...
now? with the cracks showing,
  with individual americans making youtube
videos?
   clearly "we" europeans were lied to,
well: "lied" to...
          i would never have thought that the states
were so divided...
that even moving from one state to another
can be deemed as supicious...
maybe that's heavily reliant on the fact
that we're talking about a federation...
          in Europe they call it nationalism
what in H'america they call patriotism...
and populism is just the glue in between...
like that whole: ex-pat is not an immigrant...
but i love the h'american approach
to us old continent boyos...
styxhexen-... about the europeans:
'like we're enlightened and ****'...
         that really sums it up....
             notably, compiling the above list?
i almost forgot what i was going to write...
-hammer666 did enlighten me...
  i would have never have thought that
h'american "soccer mums" and goody-two-shoe
ruby-slippers christian folk would ban
children from reading 'arry Potter...
     well of course i knew of the satanic panic
music, and the gaming: thing...
but i never heard of 'arry Potter books being
banned...
     enlightened and ****...
      if Nietzsche was going to brag about reading
Stendhal... did him in my teens...
nothing to brag about... after all...
i did see a movie adapation starring
ewan mcgregor as julien sorel... and rachel weisz
was in it too... the first book adaptation on
film that spurred me to read the book...
if only the lord of the rings did likewise...
alas... not to be!
      no thanks to my scottish english teacher...
sure: of the g.c.s.e. curriculum?
i'm the king of the castle was the only
book of depth...
       yes, i'll give him this:
he did introduce me to jazz music...
   ben webster's how deep is the ocean...
   no other sax player as ben webster...
but: 'we're enlightened and ****' as an american
might put it...
   same teacher... on a trip to Glasbury-on-Wye
(Powys, Wales) -
oh god, i was dying to go on that trip for ages...
we were first supposed to go aged 15...
year 11...
  but the outbreak of the madcow disease
prevented us... so a year later it was...
    great place... caving, canoeing, horse riding...
and just in general the great outdoors...
any teen's dream living in the outer
east end of London...
              anyways... so the teacher inquired...
'what are you reading',
  he walked into our dorm while
guys my age were... snorting sugar dust
through their noses...
      fizz wiz space dust... yep... down the noses
it went...
   i was reading a book looking at them
like a gorilla might look at a human...
                       'mr. bunce? what am i reading?'
so i handed him the slim copy
of Marquis de Sade's groundbreaking short-story:
******...
          now, if you ask me...
the Marquis would have been the emblem
of short-story writing, he was the best as short-stories...
all those long repetitive regurgitations are...
well... 120 days of *****...
but Insect is where he shines,
the story is succinct in a citrus fruit sense:
i.e. piquant.
   succinct and piquant: such lovely
words could only have originated from
French and have to be treated as: loan-words.
besides: i find h'american criticism of europe
a wee bit funny...
     sure: an honest critique of the states
and the union, grandiose politics cogs and
all the labyrinths' worth of bureucracy:
like anywhere - same ****, different cover...
but when it comes to social norms and their
taboos... h'america is very truly backwards
when it comes to what culture its citizens
are allowed to ingest...
       me, in europe, reading marquis de sade
aged 16...
the equivalent of me, in h'america,
being prohibited to read: 'arry potter for
****'s sake!
sorry... on the level where my opinion
might or might not matter...
             americans are backwards...
those puritanical roots do not do them much
favors... esp. with their extravagant
punk-esque tropes signifying a rebellion
that never seems to occur;
christianity truly undermines the idea
of america...
                     if not bound by shackles,
then shivering under the burden of the shadow
of the cross: which none of them wish
to carry... the mere looming shadow frightens
them... and... mind you? american neo-atheism?
boring as sunday's midday sun.
Drunk poet Mar 2017
The memories of the shooting
Stars
Clinged to the wall of our souls
Putting out the old wounds and scars.
As we watched the sun set, embracing the soft air at twilight
Enjoying the tales of when we first met.
Pointing at the beautiful stars at night.
As we hoped for dreams to come chase us
After we've shuffled off this mortar veneer
.
Dearie, I see the dawn of pellucide in your eyes
The shining of pearls on your skin I remember.
Be well! My adeiu isn't forever
Maybe if am lucky I will end up
In your arms


©2017
drunk poet (David balogun)

— The End —