"cox" poems
Acting
by Ahmad ***
I feel like sometimes we are very good at acting
Very good at putting on a show
When we are really feeling something else inside
We teach ourselves
That certain feelings
Certain things are unnacceptable
We are supposed to be civil
We are supposed to put on a good face
We are supposed to hide the negative feelings
The dark feelings that well up inside of us
If we don't accept ourselves for who we are
For better or for worst
We will keep acting
Keep playing the part that everyone else has for us
Afraid to stop acting
And to live our own lives
And to keep us from truly expressing
The uniqueness that everyone has inside
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 12:08 PM UTC
I wonder why you want to row
When there are just so many terms to know
Before you get in the boat and place an oar in the water,
Before you take a single stroke don’t think you ought to
Remind yourself of what they are, these parts and pieces,
Actions and orders that rowers use (but poets don’t)
So forgive me if I leave some out.
Let’s take a look at the boat (or rather the shell):
The seat you sit on,
slides, backstop, shoes and riggers.
The skeg that stabilizes the shell,
shoulder, saxboard, and pogies.
The top-nut that keeps the rowlock in place,
swivel, stretcher and rollers.
Now for the oar (or rather the scull):
There’s the Spoon blade, the Macon blade,
Smoothie or Tulip.
Ready (or not) for the stroke you take ?
An Airstroke (in the air) ,
backsplash, backwater, or body stroke,
Go on bury the blade, check the cover,
but don’t catch a crab!
Mind out for the drunken spider,
watch the feather and the finish,
Inside hand, outside hand,
hands away, miss the water,
Leg back, lie back,
pause the paddling, watch the pitch,
Release and recover,
don’t shoot your slide,
Swing the stroke rate,
and space those puddles.
Careful there’s no skying,
and absolutely no washing out.
Ready for a repecharge?
Or perhaps you’d prefer an egg-beater?
Ask the *** to call a flutter.
Easy oars
Hold her hard
Ship oars
One foot up & out
Waist, ready, up
Shoulders, ready, up
Way enough!
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
Beautiful Bangladesh naturally is pretty cute
on second thought is a masterstroke.
You gotta see it to believe how stunning it looks
as if the sunrise rendered a beauty spot
gladly put it on the morning rose!
Pop into a country of mass people
you could be walking down the singing birds
hanging low nearby our princely open doors.
Every one of us knows in the heart
we are sitting on a land of pure gold!
Should you bask in at the crack of dawn
as the crackling light of heaven stumbles upon
follow the first light that gives you your cue!
Besides the world's ********* Aladdin's
three wishes came true: the longest beach
the biggest tea gardens and mangrove forest,
in Cox's Bazar, Sylhet and Sundarbans.
Take your peep eye on in every direction
ah, moments await you on both sides of the pool!
Vividly mesmerising the Bengal of Gold,
a narrative in words can't always be told.
Sometimes it's said with whispers of old
in the shade of bamboo when that flute is heard
expect it to be carried to you by the frost-kissed air!
Hang onto your cameras even though
you walked passed the twilight in scenic Bandarban
seen the sunset in Kuakata is de ja vu ambling down this nook
you might feel walking one step down beneath the Moon!
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
The Lord has smiled on your years
It was the Holy Spirit that continues to help you preserver
As God is always near
There were times you said enough is enough
But Mother *** the Lord responded, I have added more years to your life
You have earned the years well
Your every footstep of pure confidence, everyone can tell
This Birthday wish is to motivate you to carry on
The idea is to remain strong
You have given me plenty of advice
As your Nephew, I never had to think twice
Your encouragement was like the fragrance of spice
I love you Dearly Aunt Margaret
But it is your humor accompanied with your Faith that truly instills in me
Your personality is the spread of salvation
It’s not a wonder, but an indication
Happy Birthday Aunt Margaret and long may you live
Continue the inspiration and smile that you give
You live your life to strive
Yet your wisdom surpasses even the number five
You are an Aunt of no nonsense and jive
An Aunt aiming for Heaven’s glory
Enough said, as this is your Nephew’s story
That’s my Aunt Margaret, a Mother and Grandmother to some, but an Aunt who will always be number one.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 6:53 PM UTC
When I push the pedal to the metal theres no limit I **** space...
my movement never constant just can't stay in one place...
So I zoom zoom through the poom poom...
leaving ****** scenes in bedrooms..
given girlies the boom boom...
Explode...As i unload...
round after round clip after clip...
as their bodies shake and twitch lick after lick...
Sounds of *** remind me I'm some ****
And why the **** Im i even sittin here doin this...
With no remorse in my eyes..
I **** em until they die...
pound after pound
clap sound after clap sound...
pelivis agianst *****
we know which is the meanest..
Wit no protection Im at war..
with criminals who only *****
Thier war crimes they get paid for...
then the death toll I get blaimed for..
As i leave them slayin to rest...
Some label me the best...
others just another *** that clucks at all the hens..
Can't read my metaphors that means ***** alot of women...
The reaction is i get a lot of practice so i can be to half bad..
So dont sign up for tryouts get cut then get mad...
because you haven't had the amout of practice i had..
See I know all types of tricks..
lights skin, brown skin, dark skin, i got a whole lot of picks.
The ins and the outs..
when to drive in and when to pull out...
Squirting your insides against my stomach...
you panic..
instantly proclaiming to your maker...
that Iam your ******
the one who drove to fast that your waves decided to crash...
all over me..milking your sweet nector...
as you lay life lessly twitching..the side effects of a killing..
so i place the pedal to the metal i tend to burn rubber...
one hand around the neck of the wheel and the other around my lovers...
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 10:48 AM UTC
Air
by Ahmad ***
There is air between us
That touches everything
Every part of the world
Has touched some other part of the world
At some time or other
We are all living in air
There is air that we breathe
That is in us all
That is in everything
Even the deepest depths of the ocean
To the deepest cave
Still has some air
Touching
Swirling
Caressing us all the same
It blows with force sometimes
To let us know it's there
None of us are separated
Though we are separated by space
Separated by time
There might be air in between
But all of our hearts are connected
In their own ways
And every single one of us
At some point in our lives
Has been recycled by the Earth
And by the air
And by the ground
Recycled and reused
Death and rebirth
Played over and over again
Until we all are apart of each other
And we are a part of the Earth
We can't deny it
We all live here on this Earth
Breathing the same air
Taking up the same space
Living together on this Earth we call home
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Dance for your Mother
Dance for your Father
Dance for the universe
Dance for the son
The universe is singing as we dance along
Our Mother is dancing, she dances in the sun
So dance when you wanna, dance when you feel
Cause the love in your heart is the only thing thats real
Everything in the universe has its own song
If we learn to listen we can sing along
The forest, the ocean, the moon, the stars,
Everything sings for the glory of god
God is the bass, God is the beat
So when you hear God's rythm tap your feet
Whirl around and tap your feet
Listen to that crazy god beat
God breathed the song into our hearts
And breathed the universe into existence
His words are in every atom, every particle that ever existed
And written in his song is his great love for all of his creation
Its written in the Mother, Its written in the Son, Its written in the Father inside everyone
The three major notes and we are the drums
We are the crazy chaos that pulls it all together
We are the x factor that ties it in place
Even as mad as things might seem
We have to keep dancing to the beat of the drum
We have to keep dancing until we are one
Our feet feel the rythm
Our souls feel the beat
Lets dance tonight, lets dance in the street
The universe is calling, it calls to everyone
It sings to our Mother who dances in the sun
If you want to dance let God show you how
Its not so hard once you get the beat
Let God take the lead
He'll take you by the hand and he will lead you to the promised land
He will take you home in his loving arms
He'll take you away where there is no harm
Dance away your tears
Dance away your sorrows
Dance away for a better tomorrow
We need the dancers to bring in the light
We need the dancers in the final night
So embrace your inner dancer and let it all out
Embrace that inner spirit let it out like a spout
Now that you've got it that is the end
Remember to always keep dancing till the end
No matter what people might say
Dance until the very last day
Ahmad ***
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 9:43 AM UTC
Every evening
she beams into my living room
bringing me the news of the world
Juanita ***
looking at me with her large eyes, gently tossing her coiffured blond hair
demurely enunciating ugly words through her beautifully shaped mouth
another insane event has occurred in some far off country
and Juanita *** has nice red lip gloss on tonight
a boat load of desperate people has reached our shores
only Juanita *** can make the word "asylum" sound ******
more bikie gang trouble in the city
if I had tats and a Harley Juanita, would you ride off with me?
a ********** released on bail
you shouldn't have to read such filth Juanita
the Government’s economic policies are working
who did you share your stimulus package with Juanita?
another loutish sportsman has disgraced himself in public
Juanita, let the sports reporter read that stuff in future
Parliamentarians hurl foul language at each other in Canberra
I love it when you talk ***** Juanita
debate continues about the best way to tackle climate change
if there was an ETS Juanita, would you trade emissions with me?
she is telling me that tomorrow it will be warm and moist
and Jesus Christ, Juanita *** has two buttons undone on her blouse
There will be another news update in an hour
but not from Juanita ***
and without Juanita ***
no news is good news
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 4:39 AM UTC
I’m not one to speak about my **** in past tense, man
I’m presently experiencing this seemingly neverending comedy
Where it’s a constant and uphill battle fighting off tragedy
Walk talk, carry a stick, but I got no equipment except my dick-dyke *****
Oh no, it gets me in trouble, trying to get paid minimum wage
is a struggle that gives me a headache, bro, how am I even supposed to make my dough — I wanna live that **** life, But the life that has brought me here has been to the co-op --
**** you *****
I’m not Laverne *** I’ve been pinned in a corner forced to **** dem off, *** work a bright option in the sea of diseased folk who really don’t wanna see their covers thrown off of tv screens, developed a taste for the feeding now they don’t believe me when I stand up and I say, I represent. **** ***** you don’t look good, yo, punched out face and a voice too low. Yo, are you even trying?
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
The Creep that loved you
Dani Chase
Jinxxed For Life
βέƦẙḽ Dṏṽ
Ena Alysopriono
Unknown guy
Rex Forté
Jimmydon
Janine
LeeAnn Rose
Musfiq us shaleheen
Elle Tat
maha salman
Concrete Angel
Carolin
wolf spirit aka quinfinn
Death is living
Ally
the helper
patty m
Yung Wifey
Gabrielle Cox
Heart Broken
Kayla-Lyn Searle
Dark Rose
Jason Cirkovic
Midnight Writer
LittleFreeBird
Richard Barnes
Trisha Anne Chi-Young
Thinking Out Loud
AD Mullin
Devon Webb
Hannah Jade
Deborah Brooks Langford
Winter Frost
Jeremy Boyd
Starry Night
caitlyn walters
elsa angelica
Sarah M Gillihan
Sweetheart
Andre nalin
DC raw love
Charbear909
Thomas A Robinson
chainedwhore
PerfectTruths
Worldeater
John-Chris Ward
Ember Evanescent
Kitty Lam
LJ Chaplin
Just Melz
Jae
Just Jean
The Girl Who Loved You
Vanessa Gatley
StayStrongILveU
tamyon lawrence
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
We called our maths master *** happy Chappie, Mr Chapman stank to high heaven like an ash tray and smoked like a chimney even while taking class.
We called the English teacher Jesus because he was young, bearded and wore a white suit. One of the lads flicked ink all down his back one day without him noticing as he walked up and down between the desks.
Another English teacher took it on himself to teach *** education. He advised us not to ********** the night before an exam. He doubled up as a career adviser and told everyone to go into banking or insurance.
The history master liked to nod off in lessons when he was supposed to be teaching us and we had to stay completely silent. If anyone made a noise he would yell at us, and he would sometimes hit us with a tennis shoe with a golf ball jammed in it. He wrote Stoke City for the cup in chalk mirror writing on the sole so that it would come out on our backsides when he whacked us.
The first headmaster was nice, we liked him, he was human. But then *** took over. He tightened up the rules about school uniform, no coloured shirts, things like that, but wore luminous green socks himself, the silly ******* He gave me the slipper for sciving off an afternoon once, I hated him. I think if I'd had a gun I might have shot him. Someone said they think he's dead now, and I thought good, I hope he died in agony ha ha.
Then there was Mr Eaton, another English master. He was one of those truly inspiring teachers whose enthusiasm for his subject was infectious.
On the day he introduced us to Chaucer's 'The Prologue ' he gave us the text and proceeded to recite from memory the whole thing. I never forgot that.
It was a mixed experience, Grammar School in the 1970's.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
Our so-called “Universe” is an erupting volcano
Spewing out gas and solid matter
To form a cosmic web
Of incandescent galaxies full of stars
Rushing away from us
Ever faster
Until we see them no more.
We tiny mice men gaze up at the sky
To make out next to nothing
Of the wider landscape
On which our universe-volcano
Sends out its plumes.
Us mice we sit, idly supping our pints of ale:
Taking a break from “shopping”
For the better half.
Blithely taking for granted
The wonder that lies above our heads.
A cosmos riddled with black holes –
Places where Time has stopped.
Where if you somehow survived
You would be frozen solid
With no knowledge that Time keeps moving
Out there beyond the Event Horizon.
If Time has stopped
How can anything exist?
How can Hawking Radiation seep out
When there simply isn’t time?
Even Brian *** doesn’t know,
As he sits and sups his pint.
None of us know.
And as my glass empties,
Just as the universe will eventually empty,
All I can say is
Let’s have another one.
Paul Butters
© PB 7\12\2021.
Dec 7, 2021
Dec 7, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
Love is a PCR reaction which always runs,
Love is a Centrifuge that always turns,
Love is the brightest of gel bands,
Love is the successful experiment of the luckiest hands,
Love is the paradox that Levinthal showed,
Love is the secret in every Protein fold,
Love is the compatibility of MHC's,
Love is greener than Mendel's peas,
It encompasses us like a fatty micelle,
It is an active synapse between the neural cell,
Love is fullerene a Bucky ball,
It is a hydrocarbon that cages us all,
It is a cat in Schrodinger's box,
It is fatter than the book of Nelson and ***
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
You are my apple king
i love you to your core
I love your rounded apple cheeks
And your tender age of four
Your dark shining eyes
Like little apple pips
The cheeky grin that you let slip
from your sweet rosey lips
You like the female breeds
Pink ladies, granny smiths
The sweetness of a braebern
Is what you're content with
Straight from the tree
Or from the shelf
Or from a bowl or box
Three a day
You munch and crunch
My little British ***
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 5:08 PM UTC
Zealous
by Ahmad ***
I am zealous sometimes
When it comes to my ideals
I can be zealous sometimes when I feel I am right
But sometimes I must also be willing
To see the other side
To understand the other person
Even if I might not make the same decisions
Sometimes understanding someone else
Even if it might seem hard sometimes
Can allow me to look past my own ideals
And my own truths
To understand the ideals and truths in someone else actions
For some people this is easier said than done
But usually
If I step back
I can look with understanding
And I can see the person behind the hurt
And the bad choices
And bad decisions
And all of the mistakes
And the bigotry
And racism
And apathy
To see the actual human underneath
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 1:43 AM UTC
Life always finds a way
by Ahmad ***
The green permeates
Gives life
Mixture of life and spirit
Rolling into one
Life propagates even in the harshest conditions
Life just want to be free
No matter what you do
Life always find a way
Even when it feels like everything has been burnt away
The green glow of life still flows on
Even in situations where there seems like life shouldn't be
In some of the harshest environments
Life still finds a way
Even in the darkness
Far away from the light
Life persists
It's a lot harder to extinguish life
Then we might think
Just as soon as we think we have a handle
When we start to feel like we have control over life
Life has a way of putting us back in our place
Life was never meant to be controlled
Life is meant to just be
If we allow life to persist
To grow
To flourish
We will find that life will do just fine
If we just let it be
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
The highest high
by Ahmad ***
The highest high imaginable
Is achieving your dreams
And obtaining your goals
Feeling worthwhile
And feeling like
You have made
A positive difference
In someone's life
Being able to look back
At everything you have done
And understanding that you
Are exactly where
You are supposed to be
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
"I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor.
That's my dream. It's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering,
along the edge of a straight razor … and surviving."
– Col. Kurtz, Apocalypse Now
~
Remember
the golden age, Wally ***
And the songs
my mother taught me?
We sang about what was.
Or might never be.
Like permanency.
Distinction comes
out of stiff and frozen silences.
Take it with
a spoonful of disdain.
Take it in the eye.
Actors are like breakfast cereals.
They're obvious
and according to taste.
I stopped needing them
long ago.
Beautiful
Tallulah.
Beautiful,
"less to this than
meets the eye"
Tallulah,
dismiss me,
that I may be free
to find Tennessee.
Open windows
and closing doors.
Always a breeze,
but never a way out.
Right on cue
the cards shuffle.
Butter and cotton *****
tricks of the trade.
I mumble to be heard.
I am legend
to disciples
of the Method.
I wear my friends to bed,
burn them like newspaper.
They call me "Bud"
—cigarettes at dawn
after devouring the night.
And now my song ebbs,
as the stylus hits the leadout groove.
Tomorrow, I'll be better.
Today, I'm just me.
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC
Gia
by Ahmad ***
Gia I adore you
I emplore you
Give us one more chance
Your children's folly knows no bounds
We seem bent on destruction
Bent on our own twisted ideas of justice
That justify the destruction of others
We can not see
We can not hear
The cry of Gia
The cry of our mother
She cries for us
She cries for herself
She cries for all creation
How much longer must she cry
Before we hear her
Before we recognize her
And we allow our beautiful mother Gia
To breathe
To heal
To sing
And to live
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
Balled Up
by Ahmad ***
I'm balled up inside.
I am slowly crawling out.
I'm awakening
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
Turn the "M" sideways.
Marshal Mathers
Marilyn Monroe
Marilyn Manson
Matthew McConaughey
Meghan Markle
Mac Miller
Melissa McCarthy
Mads Mikkelsen
Mandy Moore
Max Minghella
Malcom McDowell
M.J (M) 13+(J) 10 = 23 (two threes) 33
Michael Jordan
Michael Jackson
Michael Johnson
Magic Johnson
**** Jagger
Marc Jacobs
Milla Jovovich
Montel Jordan
C.C (C) 3+(C) 3 = (Two Threes)
Chevy Chase
Cindy Crawford
Chelsea Clinton
Courtney ***
Chris Cornel
Christopher Columbus
Charlie Chaplin
Camila Cabello
Chris Cuomo
Chuck Connors
B.C or C.B (B) 2+(C) 3 = (Two Threes)
Bill Clinton
Bill Cosby
Bradley Cooper
Benedict Cumberbatch
Billy Crystal
Ben Carson
Chadwick Boseman
Christian Bale
Chris Brown
Charles Bronson
Chris Benoit
Companies Hiding Evil Numbers
BBC=223 Skull and bones 322 (biblical) just Google 322 bible. They are trying to become God's. Eat from the tree of life and live forever. What do you think that means?
WWE Flip the letters around and you get 333. For 33.3
CNN logo is CW for 33 (C)3 + (W) flipped is a 3
F.O.X in the hebrew alphabet is 666
Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 5:51 AM UTC
Hey Hollywood!
How are you ******
All of you!
Talentless Phonies
All of you!
Fakes!
Acting?
A Talent?
So sick of your lies
Pretending to be
A Somebody
STOP kidding Yourselves
Not one could compare
Not one
The Somebody died
And you couldn't act if your lives depended on it
All of you are
Nobodies
Useless
Actors/Whores (pick one)
Trollops
Taxi Dancers have more skill
Eight Children
With five wives
And all you do is cheapen him
He was referring to Wally
Not some phallus
IDIOTS
Somebody never pretended
to act
Somebody never was trained
to act
Somebody once dropped his pants
An Act?
No
Just bad behavior
Bud
Somebody knew how to behave
(take note whores) (did you get it right?)
A Methodist?
Maybe NOT religious
But so much
Better than some cheap act
Somebody behaved the Best
(even if he did love ***
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
Her name it was Naomi
and she was my first love
I was in grade two
she was in the grade above
she wore ankle socks and a gingham dress
her eyes as big as the number eleven
Oh come on what was I supposed to say
you think I was a poet when I was seven?
She was taller than me by an inch or three
to kiss her I'd stand on a box
but alas we got posted before I got chance
whatever happened to Naomi ***
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 2:54 PM UTC
I crush dead leaves under my feet.
The satisfying crackle-hiss reminds me
Of when your bones crunched into a million pieces,
Marrow collapsing under the disbelief that a pretty little thing like me could have denied you.
You have been panting after me like a dog in heat for a year. Do not think I wouldn't notice.
I will use the feminine wiles at my disposal, all of them ammunition against boys like you, with your doe eyes and quickly hidden smirks.
I hear you in the locker room. A mass of hooting, crowing creatures that shout out at the slightest dichotomy between what you think is normal and what is normal.
You think I don't see Paul, who comes home bruised every day because his heart is too big for one gender?
I walk past the locker room and recoil, because you reek of privilege and body odour. I hear you talk about the man, Laverne *** who was on your television last night. Disgusting, you say, like your opinion should matter. I close my eyes tightly and hope your idiocy is not contagious.
Bang, bang, bang. That is the roar of gunfire as I smile sweetly at you with lips you deem to red, as you call me a ***** and **** A million slurs wouldn't do you a single favour, darling.
You remind me of the time that you paid for my meal and I blow radioactive gas in your direction as I laugh in your face. The thud of bomb shells fall behind us. I sharpen my nails into claws and strike.
Once upon a time I would have thought you handsome and sweet and popular, qualities we are taught to fall in love with regardless of flaws. If you hadn't been handsome anyway the illustrious promise of being safely heterosexual was always reminded of. Now boys like you I leave behind in the dust for girls like me. We laugh at your antics as we dye our hair colours the Church would have disapproved of. We don't care, anyway, our kisses are the salvation we were never conditioned to believe in.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC