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Simon Jun 2020
EG as always, is without value in herself. Except for when she wants to get what she want’s, without even having to exert a fine bundle of resources straight from her VERY “tampering” collective that is her “feelings”. Because you see, her feelings aren’t what just make her the “friend” who helped me throughout and in the bad times… They are literally what make me understand her for her. Also, to what she is to me, for what I am to her in return. And that’s never truly a saddening thought when you think you can’t (for a second longer) converse in the regular, MORE normalized manner. Conversing (naturally) with words, straight from a mouthpiece with words to offer the “immaculate” assistance towards a personality your about to criss-cross all over and between the **** gap that surrounds two sense of selves. Trying to further a correlating connection. Not to mention without the clear variety for a VERY “tempting individuality” to clearly become entirely outspoken within their own selves. Which (I got to say) is never a programming thought… Especially when that very (“programming thought”) isn’t pre-programmed in advance to ever become supplemented enough at ever being ready when you start to FINALLY realize, you’ve been (conversing with words) over a long span of time with what you never truly thought at first. (Especially when it’s entirely impossible for even “words” to announce what thing it possibly could have been…?!) Well then, “indulge me” then…? What is it that I just haven’t noticed (for the “supposed” life of me) towards what I’ve been conversing with (of course with words) for that long span of time?! (And to the one whoever is then conversing gently towards a calm disposition in order to filter out something without alerting a “shock” in the most right of places displayed across the even WORST of times to ever transpire…!) You’d then start to of course think it could be (“oneself”) right? At it again for all to VERY “specifically” hear! But that’s where typical majority thought processes are then (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”)! Since a cueing announcement had just popped out of nowhere spouting seemingly irrational nonsense all around the place. Thou, I’ll have you know, that if you just look a little deeper and closer… You’d start (somehow without even knowing how) to understand, (and seemingly able to just what…” rationalize”)? Oneself could respond by simply saying, “perhaps” … Thou if I were you…I’d STOP and hear out the one who’ve been conversing with this entire time. Seeing as how it’s obvious they converse with NO words in ANY manner. They connect openly. “Open viewing points” in all! All to both rationalize the grievances of those connections and the severity of the tolerance one is able to handle when (not knowing right off the bat where everything of course seems to “flutter a VERY calm feather”) as it swiftly flows through the air. Except without fully perceiving that it doesn’t just flow seemingly “through” the air. Because you see (“conversing with worded types” …) That little “itsy bitsy” little feather, has an “immaculate” impression towards its own assistance of having a personality as not for itself. But for the one who responds to those very “open viewing points” in all! Too busy “up in its own grill” to ever respond lightly when it’s fluttering swiftly through the air to then actually connect with its BETTER half. “IN”! Which it responds by fluttering swiftly “through” to then seemingly go “inward”. But how is that even possible for a feather to go inward in air, if it’s been supposedly fluttering swiftly through the air (what was once previously thought) as one’s very first perceived glance…? Good question. As it’s an obvious, but VERY cryptic hint at who you could be conversing with? The input that is oneself seems to then have what’s called a “seminar of truth” within its own inner “delightful” council. Another somewhat fanciful instance of power that demands the attention for a sense of self’s attention-seeking “self-servitude”. So then (sooner rather then later…) it could come to terms with whatever or whichever that very example about connecting “through” with then the word “in” is about. Well isn’t it obvious, since even the “teaser” to this very passage willing to be both happyful and polite gives its respected tone away. Because again you see, (“throughout and in”) is another cueing announcement. Just as (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) is, for it has a simulation (just as throughout and in does as well), called “abrupt flaws”. For throughout and in’s simulation for “phasing” is nothing more then a transcribing will made to offend every rationalizability. That’s exactly why you won’t ever understand the “inwardness” of how a seemingly fluttering feather swiftly flowing through air, could actually go inward the air at will. It’s a riddle, sure. A VERY fanciful one, I assure you. That being said, what does any of this haft to do with the one who simply helped me throughout and in the bad times…?! Well (and again I say this) isn’t it obvious by now? They’ve been helping me, as they still do to this very day. Helping me both (“throughout and in”) the bad times. Of course, whichever bad times seems to come forward again (sooner rather then later). That’s when the seminar of truth amongst the input known as oneself had concluded its own inner delightful council. In other words, what did it simply come up with? Well what you’d simply like the “knowing” right off the bat, that both doesn’t make up for the clearer information. Or for the fact that wasn’t really helpful in it’s “expressing investigation”. The very fact for why this passage is called my friend’s “tampering withering appearance”! Well that’s because my friend’s mere appearance has been “shackled” with too much torment for many, many lifetimes. Too much torment in fact, is why at all they’re still withering to this very day…? That’s because they don’t know any better, then to just be themselves. It’s what’s called when someone is truly “twistedly warped”. Since I’ve gone both throughout and in in my own way. So, has she. I’m twistedly warped in my own fashion statement, thank you very much! As many others (while they EVER want to admit it or not, is simply their own concern). But without even knowing why that is? As it’s not for the “faint of heart” to be in the realm of one’s consciousness while proceeding to simply find out. Or else, then why do I question repeatedly? But I’m still learning with each striding experience, to see if mine would EVER “pale in comparison” with hers. Seeing as how she even once revealed to me why she’s simply interested in me. Because I’ve seemed to of asked MORE times then I could possibly count. And I try (as I must) to refrain from repeating myself over long periods of time. Which just happens to be a HEAVY weakness of mine. Which is no half-*** bargain at keeping me in my place in order to simply stride me forward, respectfully. And with that very question, she revealed it in one “death-defying breath”! Which is…? Oneself would ask within its own input. I’m interested in you, Simon! Because you are like me! WAIT! What?! Then between many “oneselves”, their own inputs were “firing off” between their very own robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. The effects of those very inputting thought processes came with both the “clicking and smashing” of those robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. It seems oneself didn’t either fully catch what was actually said (where they couldn’t comprehend it properly) or they simply misinterpreted the entire thing? (Which is entirely understandable, by the way.) But they aren’t foolish in a sense of self, as to never “miss” something as simple as that. They just couldn’t come to terms with experiencing (as they did) when it came to coming in contact with EG herself. That’s why they purposely held back the actual transcribing of its simulation for translations. It wasn’t whatever was just expressed. Because in fact, (and with a little “paraphrasing help” here) we can find out how it truly was interpreted. A little loose knot here and there. And they fully unpatched the circumstances at what the information truly was expressed as. (Because in truth…they would rather mend it, then not to unravel it again…if you know what the input known as oneself means…?) So, after coming to terms, it’s ready to reveal it. And a little advice towards sense of selves to take as a heedless warning… It’s simple in all it’s expressions, ok! But what it truly refers towards, is why oneself wanted to keep the truer importance of the interpretation secretive to begin with? I’m interested in you Simon, because (and it’s not “because you are like ME”) but in fact “I see myself in you”. Clean as a whistle! Nothing missing as more then that. And with that shocking realization to that very “wordy expression”, the entire collection of inputs (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) got a CHILLING feeling going both throughout and in such a way that literally “tingled” their very input mechanisms for simply producing thought processes. For if they went any further with that very “tingling” sensation, that very cueing announcement’s simulation for abrupt flaws would follow in a VERY “corruptive heating pursuit”. Now MORE then ever, it made the entire lot of inputs go on HIGH ALERT for no apparent reason, other then what a simple memory had brought with it when sifting throughout and in “old archives” that changed everything for (of course) the better! Because it’s obvious that a sense of selves inputs is truly afraid of this (“girl” or whatever…)? Then we come to the last finalization of this passage. Since I ask you ALL of this, respectfully… Who then essentially made her this way? It wasn’t (“I”), but her own father! And that isn’t a half-assed maneuver to outplay something other then the respectful truth. NO deceit here, other then the “truth” I’d been keeping from you all to begin with. (Not to mention myself in “repeated” questioning.) Which I’m entirely expressing in its very revelation right here and now!
This is another poem about the friend who helped me throughout and in the bad times. But this time, they show themselves “throughout and in” a VERY “tampering withering appearance” so to speak.
The slot machines remove my cash
with Dyson like precision
The operation's painless
There isn't even an incision
It's gone as soon as I sit down
For that is just their mission
I lose as soon as I sit down
I made a bad decision

The table games are even worse
Distractions everywhere
Table dancers walk and dance
But most folks do not care
In shorty shorts and thigh high boots
They flick and fling their hair
And we sit losing wads of cash
As though we do not care

The strip itself is free to walk
It's a breaking even quest
Unless you take the monorail
Then you get put to the test
Long walks between casinos
Through the homeless where they nest
Once you walk to where you're going
You need to sit down for a rest

The walkways littered with lost souls
Our society's open sores
selling water for a dollar
blocking all the hotel doors
tourists cueing up to see
shell and ball games by the score
We walk by glancing down on them
For we are Vegas ******

A city based on excess
Where the winner is not you
There are some that leave with money
But, in truth....there's very few
The derelict and drunkards
beg for change the whole day through
and their dogs beg from the beggars
It never changes....nothing's new.
Antony Glaser Jan 2014
Retaining my feelings and personal streamlight
can be  synonymous with a record player
start-stop, and cueing for  movement
but never repeat "repeat".
I could not necessarily afford to  retreat
into a  misplaced  time zone
and face yesterdays despondent pitch.
Nigel Morgan Dec 2012
IV

Pizzicato pianissimo
its sound gestured into resonance
a slight plosive of winds sustained
Arco – a lament in falling thirds
whispering towards an upward leap and a hold
crescendo  decrescendo
Imagine his imagining in nature’s realm
(that patient catalyst for the solitary maker’s mind)
now guarding here its assembly in a sounding out
Adagio – in a three-fold telling
A measured preliminary to the music’s soon-to-dance theme
before rising scales and emphatic chords – Allegro Vivace

V

Words on the rise
bricks on the going
then in the hall on the wall
A poem you simply have to read so
crouch close to the Suffolk brick
don’t mind those  descending shoes
The verse is laced with words of sound
breaker march cry rumble clap
cueing memory into remembrance
And why why here
where formal musicking lives and rules
are we noised down steps by a boiling kettle?

VI

As the water holds its breath
so a dense cloudscape
forms and floats
Inverted
mirrored
wholly still
it replaces the water
with horizonless sky
and extended reflections of grass
But as water exhales
clouds coalesce
a right perspective restores
2013 marks the centenary of the birth of the composer Benjamin Britten. In 2011 I made a pilgrimage to the part of the Suffolk coast where he made his home and established the Aldeburgh Festival.
Angela Zhang Feb 2010
skirts rustle across the floor
whispers of movement
and conversation, the conversations!
voices fill the room to the rafters
brimming with that peculiar sound
(and the occasional snubbed toe)
while in the background,
unnoticed save as the source of everything
fists raised for the next passage
black and brown in synchronized movement
the body drones, chucks falling in heartbeats
but the mechanics do not worry him
while his background hums in boredom
he is thinking about the prince in common time
stately marching fanfare
with a tinge of melancholy
so vivid in his eyes
the picture so vivid as if he was marching in that very room
destined to marry the girl
arranged by his well meaning parents
pretty enough but...
that other girl catches his eye
his heartbeat
his passion
how does he choose?
here come the boom chuck chucks
that elusive three four
cueing waltzes with each and both
whirling around the floor
a reflection of reality…
but this is their reality
how, can he choose?
but in the end, it’s his duty that calls him
his duty calls
in this big bright burning yellow room
no happily ever after for this fairytale prince
Martin Narrod Sep 2017
Brings up the hole in my dreams, white dressed mannequin overlaid with sequins,
her dress form baring my hide, skinny legs in skinny jeans, faced with her blue eyes. 

This constant storm of thick regret, plays aching words through my stiffened threads. I am startled by the tinge of when he picks at my strings, his fingers cueing up my grief, I'm
transfixed by such staunch memories.

From this September thru December all that is anxious wrecks this time, blending stages of unconsciousness with the right to bide these rhythmic tidings outlined by the rigor of her whines. Bent by the rocking of the sea and the buried screams beneath, herein these mouths are tanned from where these voices once laid command.

Subtly superior, yet haunting in its serenity and clause, the metal stretched across her jaw, and while the dove is drugged, she cannot bestow her love, she is betrayed thru the very lens that halted life's immenseness and intent. Draped in her hospital gown, even her crown forgone, her gurney replaced her throne, no more royalty will she ever know.

Soma sudor, spit begrimed at ends, tiffs being had with friends, he takes away the organs, sends me back to consciousness with the bends. Every lock of hair I wanted, every piece of night I held, all my organs have been dismembered, all the luck I had is lost. In the corner of my iris there's a prime instance of despair, something left on a scrap of paper, though I could swear it looked like underwear. When the locusts fill this mind with every cadence indisposed, then they flourish on my body, leaving once they've eaten off my clothes. 

Hours were my pajamas, where I slept once, now I lie. I'm the afterthought of courage, even in this heady nausea I once found sublime. Here this corpse doesn't leave a shadow, missing time where love bid supine. Even the wind it curdles in me, where no heart beats from this life.

With a child inside this bullet, art existed on her face, twice it eradicated lying, but not the ****** debt betrayed. Simple sin on the interstices, connected by the dots where pleasure writhes. All my hands are covered by this fever, where my mind has gone to die.
solfang Dec 2017
I'm addicted to my favourite
non-existent recreational drug,
cueing in; compulsive lying.

The additional side effects
to my mind, soul and heart,
ain't as bad as I thought.

When I'm being questioned
about my troubling mental health,
I lied straight through my teeth,
that nothing could **** me,
yet I wanted to **** myself
the exact same hour.

I once lied to a friend that,
I will stay by her side
but in actuality,
I didn't even want to
stay in this world

But the biggest lie
that ever happened
is by telling myself
that I will soon be alright,
and lying is my only
coping mechanism

I think.

You know what I love
about this addiction,
is that it's a distraction
from the real harm,
which is self-actualisation,
of my ailing self.
sometimes things aren't the way I want it. And lying makes me believe that there's still hope in this world
Simon Aug 2020
You were always there to help me through things, even thou there were the obvious times when it looked too be me just helping you throughout...EVERYTHING! Except that's never been quite truthful, since our very "inception" towards one another! I could honestly say there is not a time that goes by, where you aren't there to brighten up my day when reaching out with your greeting that raises my hopes even further in life! Showing that my heart glows for the very "special" friendship that we have together! As yours leaks while softly weeping tears of joy at the very prospect of your own independent individuality becoming (all the more "tempting") when confronting yourself toward me more and more as we both "shake a leg" when our very progress seems too quicken with each step of confrontation! Which is only limited by the access that we claim within each other's very hearts! It is truly "limitless"! Only when the "there and after"... Becomes the full set at which is easier for us too pronounce in one another. Giving a raise in our compatibility together as if by a mere simulation sparks trade between our ever-increasingly lingering emotions! Where the thing that merely activated this very "simulation for compatibility"... Was a cueing announcements called "information"! Our information is both a "heart of gold", because it's made to be entirely there...afterwards! (Remaining forevermore...if not "indefinitely"!) Whatever happens afterwards, will truly test our defining features as whatever we shape our mere simulation for compatibility into the next inception toward one another!
PS... It doesn't matter whatever happens to each one of us (from here on out)! Since wherever we are within some type of "unreachable scenario"... Will know the title of this very passage towards one another.... The "there and after"... Is not something you can just claim. But for the desire between our two compatibilities too simulate a greater passage of information when our very identities become one within the desire to bear a stronger resemblance towards each other's "glowing and leaking" hearts!
Another poem about my "special friend"...kyle! She's been going through some hard times! So hope this lightens the load she's been having too carry (seemingly) alone!
PS... It's not an illusion (anymore) if she hasn't been alone...up until now (that is)! Because I'm here for her (no matter what happens)! Forever...if I haft too be!
Tash Mckay Jan 2018
I was cueing for a bus today
I had not the right money and needed too stay,
A man gave me 50p so I could be on my way
A act of kindness goes along way
A simple act of kindness that blew me away x thankyou too the man that day his name is Peter who helped me stay x
I did not have the Wright money so I could not get on the bus too bury bless this guy he gave me the 50p x this is a thankyou too him x I saw him in town week later he would not take the money back
I no its only 50p but out of lots of people he was the only one........ kindness x
Joy Dec 2017
Catherine sat across a smooth pavement
Holding a cigarette to her face
Her skin shone gracefully as the sun
Bathed her to a perfect taste
Glossy lips and pointy *******
Yellow unbuttoned blouse and dimples
Vintage clothing embroidered with red flowers
Cigarettes lit raging smokes into corners
Shamelessly winking at gentlemenm of all ages
Youthful exuberance blown to heightened stages
Energetic elegance with effervescent emotions
A woman seductively cueing for commotions
If you see my mind
It's like counting grains of sand
On the beach
Never been a leech
This for the real peeps
Who see the struggle
And nope you don't have to
Look through a Hubble
To see society's bubble
Troubles
Up ahead **** what trump said
Sound the trumpets
Angels cueing the sound
To let those know
All around we going in the ground
Its like that y'all
We on the verge of a permanent downfall stand tall
With my nuts agains the wall
Man I feel like Lennon Martin Malcolm and Kennedy
All wrapped into one
Can't embrace unity
Cuz it's so much corruption in society
They hate me .cuz I speak on truths
Not feeling
My mindpeeling
Heads like potatoes
From Idaho scratch that though
I'm just diggin ya mind
Like archeologist did to them Egyptian temples
Puttin out fake stories
To make it fit there agenda
Its all about propaganda
Sellin' lies and the civilians still buys
That ******* but wake up
We ain't got time for settlements
No sentiments for the soldiers sent
Overseas for rich oil company's
My minds at a breeze .but it don't ******* down slow me down
And ill still get around
Ya like a circle nerdy as Urkel
Real with these poems I spit
Made for ya to think and ****
**** the struggle we risin-
Revolutions won't be televised
Just realize real eyes
Will seeee
espaic09 May 2017
Manic energy
Heads ******* banging
Aggressive freedom of the senses
Happiness plus hatred

liberation of this pent up energy
Double kick bass loudly, sound breaking

Fast paced high squealing notes

Stop.

Down breaks the hellish tempo

It’s time to smash faces,
Break bones in many places

A circular ritual of anger and sweat.
A trotting stampede of mindless freaks
All of them a ball of feelings hard like bricks

Surprise!

Concussion blast
Downed metal head comrade
Near a ****** foldable chair
Bleeding through his brain dome
Coughing asking for a still
memento of himself

Music halts and dust settles.

Uno, dos, tres, cuatro
Next title cueing
Freaks all cheering
Smells like ****, blood and sweat drippings

Feedback through the amps.

wall of death opens briskly
all hell breaks loose

Feral eyes moving quickly
Our Viking hearts
Fight for dignity
Or die honorably

valkiries above the mosh pit
and a glimpse of Odin

Hammer smashed face.
club swung to my back
Whiplash.

I woke up in my backyard.
Sore back, ribs broken
And a beer in my hand.
Hell of a night man
wrote while in college.
Mark Bell Apr 2020
I think the Chinese
Got this all Wong
The virus to spread
To quell the riots in honk Kong

A trade war with America
Starvation has begun
So let's spread a virus
And have some financial fun

Americans and the Chinese
The Germans and Jews
So let's spread the virus
And give the world the blues

Bankrupt all countries
China will provide
America will give loans
While governments still lie

Spread the virus
Far and wide
Communism democracy
I'll let you decide

Mass migration stops
Before it's to late
Millions start cueing
At the pearly gates

Why don't the Chinese play cricket
Because they ate all the bats

— The End —