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In die asemdroogtes van die nag
Word ek gebombardeer deur die warrelwinde van my ongesproke woorde
Wat ten laaste my hart van dolomiet versag

Skrapnel vlieg rond in die inner ruimtes van my gesonder verstand
In die geweldadige debat tussen die skynbare sinneloosheid van die Woord
En die gevoel van jou hand in myne

In geheim bou ek ń koningryk van lugkastele
Waarin jou beeld in elke kamer pronk.
Maar selfs díe verdwyn in die wasige misgordyn van dade
Waarvoor ek self nog swyg

Ten slotte:
Ek smag na jou...
-kammeraaddkap
David Nelson Apr 2010
First Kiss (Act II - Miami Vice) A Rock Opera

Rachel's plane set down at 2:45 at the Miami Dade Airport.
She was anxious to get off of the plane after a 6 hour flight,
and of course the concourse was jammed full of smiling faces,
weeping faces, noisy children, old people, fat people, tall people,
Cubans, Europeans, Asians, hustling and bustling about.
Rachel and Daniel had of course exchanged photos so they both
knew exactly who they were looking for. Rachel of course was a
bit overdressed having left the UK in 40 degree rainy weather,
only to arrive in balmy Miami where is was 82. After finally
being able to stand and gather up her carry on bags, she
anxiously started down the aisle to exit the aircraft, up the
exit ramp and out into the gate receiving area. After a few
panicky moments, she finally spotted Daniel, and when their
eyes finally met, she felt a new bounce in her step and an
excitement building in her body, as both their faces were covered
with huge smiles. They finally reached each other and embraced,
a long, long embrace. They finally stepped apart from each other
and just stared at each other in disbelief. “is this really happening”,
Daniel asked Rachel. “yes, finally” Rachel said half laughing, and then
they kissed. For the first time their lips met and they both meleted
into each others arms, forgetting for the moment that they were in
a public arena, though most of the people were busy with their own
lives and paid little attention to them except for a few smiling glances.
That first kiss was all and more of what each had expected. The fire
of love was burning inside each of them at that moment, just waiting
for an excuse to burst into flames.
  
They scurried down the wide concourse aisle and headed toward
the escalator down to the baggage pick up area. Walking hand in hand,
looking at each other with still those big grins on their faces. They
finally were able to secure Rachel's luggage and headed out the door
to the parking garage where Daniel's car was parked on the 3rd level.

As they started to cross the busy 4 lane road to get to the garage,
Daniel suddenly looked up and saw a vehicle traveling at a much too
high rate of speed for this congested area. He grabbed Rachel's arm
and pulled her back as the car went speeding by. A couple of shots rang
out from the passing vehicle and barely missed them bouncing off the wall
behind them. They both looked at each other totally startled.

The night was ringing, with violent sounds,
the echoes of turbulent dreams were flying,
being chased by villians, like foxes and hounds,
through the streets, hear the voices crying

seems he had been, a witness of crime,
he was offering his service to the city,
the cartel found out, he was taking the time,
his interventions would allow for no pity

duck your heads, run for the cover,
these beasts of violence, will sure take your life
hide with the Feds, save your lover,
be wary of traitors, they cut like a knife
      
the wailing of sirens, tear through the night,
warnings of immanent danger for you,
seek out the dark, stay out of the light,
you and your lover with your love so true

duck your heads, run for the cover,
these beasts of violence, will sure take your life
hide with the Feds, save your lover,
be wary of traitors, they cut like a knife

Still thinking of that First Kiss ….

Gomer LePoet
sommige mense siele                                                          so­me people’s souls
                                          skyn van hul                                                              ­ shine out of
                                          ligame uit                                                              ­      their bodies

anders is betrap                                                     others are trapped
                  vasgevang                              ­                                                              emb­roiled

in bitter denke                                                                                      in bitter thoughts
in bitter dade                                                             ­                           in bitter deeds
opgevreet                                                  ­                                            consumed
deur        ­                                                                 ­                               by
angst                          ­                                                                 ­           anxiety
jalousie                                      ­                                                             jeal­ousy
gierigheid                                                  ­                                            greed
onsekerheid    ­                                                                 ­                     uncertainty

opgetwis                       ­                                                                 ­        twisted up
onbewus                                                       ­                                         unaware
© jeannine davidoff 2012
In die asemdroogtes van die nag
Word ek gebombardeer deur die warrelwinde van my ongesproke woorde
Wat ten laaste my hart van dolomiet versag

Skrapnel vlieg rond in die inner ruimtes van my gesonder verstand
In die geweldadige debat tussen die skynbare sinneloosheid van die Woord
En die gevoel van jou hand in myne

In geheim bou ek ń koningryk van lugkastele
Waarin jou beeld in elke kamer pronk.
Maar selfs díe verdwyn in die wasige misgordyn van dade
Waarvoor ek self nog swyg

Ten slotte:
Ek smag na jou...
-kammeraaddkap
T2m Aug 2014
Barking orders from behind a
shiny mahogany table
' Bring me my . . . . . .
Where is Mr. . . . . . .
You **** fool , how many times
will i have to tell you. . . . . '
Spinning left and swinging right in
a fluffy comfortable white chair-
Let ' s not talk about the shiny cloths
he wears-
While his people wreath in abject
poverty
I call it white - washed kind of
slavery
Their faces say it all
But he is always cold and calm
His Italian shoes keeping him high
and fine
His words meant life or strife
Pain or gain
Wage or cage
To an extreme , sometimes even
death
A fitting representation of fear and
dread
To him laughter is reproach
And painful groans applauds
So that all that brought joy was
destroyed
And the painful restored
All in the ploy to keep us confined
To a ' ran ka ya dade ' kind of songs
But in all his plots this is where he
flawed
He left the pet hungry for too long
So that the once tamed sweet thing
began to growl
Instead of the sweet songs she use
to hum
Until the growl grew into a roar
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
So the hour came for power to
change hands
And the exchanged brought it
change
All the people' s pains began to
wear
And their fears were no longer
there
Even the sun ' s smile grew wider
And our mothers' sweet songs got
louder
Now instead of barking orders
opinions are sort
Instead of " i want it all"
It is "let us all have it"
And no longer a one man ' s calls
I remember this silly story once
told
A couple of men went to a salon
Ordered equal amounts of the same
***
Drank down and called out for
more
They all drank equal ration
Same in proportion, equal in all
dimensions
Until it was time to return home
Then this reality dawned
One was too drunk to walk on his
own
So that the other had to carry him
home
Such is the case with power
Allow two people equal amounts of
its shower
And certainly one will be more
drunk than the other
Becoming a magnet that either
attracts or repels
From all this story , this is what i
hoped to tell
This myopia i hope to correct and
this notion dispel
That all men are wired for power
Power is neither a cap for all heads
Nor one for all men
No wonder some act dump then
It is because they don ' t belong
there
For a man to fittingly man this seat
The man must be one fit for it
Oh , and by man , i mean women too
We must then be true as we choose
But sadly our prejudiced and
biased minds
Makes us compromise
And structural demise ? that is
certain
No more self- deceiving lies .
Setting the wrong man to rule is
like setting the sun against the
moon
Cos soon there won ' t be a sun nor a
moon
All there will be is just gloom
So shake off the blindfolds
And loosen the strong holds
Of ethnic chains
Tribal veils
And religious scales
Which are all pluses to our pain
There is no more room for miss fits
Power is a cap only for those it fits
"Ran ka ya dade" is a statement in Hausa which mean "may you live long" mostly used in sycophansy by commoners or royal councils
LaDi OyediRAn Dec 2013
Looking NOW from  a mountain of experiences
23 years worth of a bag of knowledge
i can see so much more
Taste so much more
feel so much more
The dust in my eye, the strength of my people
the stench of the streets, the Hustle of the day to day
Ross didn't know **** in Dade county
Come here... To come here
Hear and be touched by the cradle of a nation
Listen to her tears, Let her Nurse and Strengthen and Discipline you
Nurtured, Appreciated and slowly being disintegrated but the VERY people..
She cares for
She's Burning
Yet she Stands
Yet she calls
Arise, O compatriots
Naija
She waits
Saša D Lović Sep 2014
meki đoka
popularan beše
dok ne uze
skulpture da kleše
i tada se đoka
rakije naloka
pa s pajtašem
na dobar dan
to je njemu
zamerila draga
zaigrala kolo
nasred raskrsnice
u ponoći
za meseca puna
meki đoka posle kupi
tovare sapuna
i jednoga ata
te joj dade
samo da ode
što dalje
iz njegove bare
gde pravi skulpture
KD Miller Feb 2015
2
2/9/2015

"every unexpected change," the ******* continued to drip from her
plum painted cupid's bow

"is an opportunity for something
great," topped it off with a terminal patient smile.

I drew on the desk with a
pen that didn't have a point.
"No such thing as nice surprises,"
dragging it across the dade pine.
The new 950-ton bridge would beat
down time dashing to classes cheat
ting vulnerability asper thick traffic 
     putting life at risk, 
     thus laudatory alternative
 
     intending to offer Sweetwater 
     to last a lifetime would make fleet
(installed at Florida International University, 
     with eager pedestrians ready to greet 
crossing grand opening, 
     where local dignitaries didst meet 
     viz Miami-Dade County 
     Saturday (March eleventh 2018) 
witnessing ghastly collapsed 
     Thursday (March fifteenth 2018) 
afternoon onto Southwest Eighth Street. 

An unknown number 
     of fatalities surmised, 
while several others 
     were hospitalized. 

Prior to groundbreaking 
     with placement guised
of the attendant pomp 
     and circumstances exercised
setting cornerstone, 
     the projected 
     general estimation apprised

sans building costs totaled $14.2 million 
and funded as part of a $19.4 million grant 
from the US Department of Transportation. 

The fact sheet boasted the sheer intensity 
comparable to withstand strength of a 
category 5 hurricane, and supposed to last 
for more than 100 years. 

Within the blink of an eye, no ifs ands, 
nor abutments squared with ratiocination 
earning civil engineers bragging rights, 
which boastful, delightful, fanciful stead
fastness touted thwarting titanic tenable 
taxing shock waves. 

Now only a scattered pile (formerly comp
rising beams footings, and piers) of rein
forced concrete capped with a bent ele
ment defying hallelujahs, karaoke kudos,
and bobble headed nods,

now impish jinns keep leering, mocking,
and naysaying to fading echoing reverberations
leveled at the laughingstock of an architectural
(duff) feat. Further scrutiny will attempt to cap

chore structural weaknesses. Amidst snapped,
crackled, and popped strewn cables entwined girders
(whose premature destruction) will also warrant
any arresting tell tale signs of unusual stress.
Blom In Blou Aug 2020
Gedagtes wat eenvoudig lig lief is
Kan helder maak
Koppe wat te slim swaar donker deurmekaar raas

Woorde wat moedig sag sappig is
Kan heel maak
Harte wat moedeloos af gebreek is blaas

Dade wat beleefd groots gaaf gelukkig is
Kan skeppend maak
Hande wat hopeloos toegevou honger staan staak

Drome wat goedhartig braaf kreatief is
Kan hemels moontlik maak
Oorkom toekoms wat donker verborge na vrees smaak
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2023
I had a panic or terror attack
When I was 13 or 14:
Extreme fear of dying
Of Nothingness
I'm 53. Still afraid.

Her tulips in the front yard quite beautiful
Marriage is actually impossible
Children are joy
Satellite Beach, not Miami Dade

I like libraries
Please find me there
Nat Turner
Rebel Flayed

Slowly guacamole
Watch a few movies
Grateful green couch
Karaoke Krakow played

             The Maid
Qualyxian Quest May 2023
Often I pray more for than to
Worried for my family
Wishing for my friends
Afraid

Politics portends
America could again go deeply wrong
Somebody done somebody wrong song
Tirade

The Hobbit and Poe on my shelf
The fighting knives of Legolas the Elf
Satellite Beach
Not Miami Dade

Grateful for quiet
Conversations
Board games
Magic played

              Nat turner: flayed.
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2023
florida is ignorance and powerful thunderstorms salvador dali museum palm trees images the coean at night the memories fade but i was in miami once some say miami dade wrote carl hiaasen the green flash is real 1987 seems like another lifetime probably wont go back if my ashes are thrown into the ocean in seattle will they ever reach the beach in the keys please baby please a goddess on her knees 37 degrees

                                    Florida don't freeze
Qualyxian Quest Jan 2023
I saw O Brother, Where Art Thou
In Charlottesville
Years before the wannabe AmeriNazis
And their tiki torch parade

I am a Man of Constant Sorrow
Roamed the South a bit
All the King's Men
Brutus too gets played

             Brevard
       Not Miami Dade.
I cuff you in white sunshine as a pig on a crack-coke raid; like a ***
****** **** on antacid burning char-black ***** 50 grades of shade
in a vo-tech school over megalopolis Miami's thrifty trades of Dade
Lead me to extremes, bleed me from blood-seams, steam me before
teams as ordinariness is as light as regularity when burning I-beams
It astounds me greatly, the free association of physical complexities
with drug-fogged delusion, as it's a cop-out that morons have fallen
back on lately when rationality & logic seems less wise than saintly
Preface:
On February 4, 1861,
the seven states that had seceded
by this point convened and created
the Confederate States of America
under the leadership of Jefferson Davis.

Just under two months later,
on April 12, 1861, Confederate forces
opened fire on Union-occupied
Fort Sumter off the South Carolina coast.

Starting but not completely reading a book...
tantamount to being sacrilegious,
especially when storied subject matter
deals with heated issue as slavery,
which essentially succinctly describes
war between the states
(purportedly started April 12, 1861 –
and reputedly ended April 9, 1865)
allegedly triggered
at 4:30 ante meridian on April 12, 1861,
when Confederate troops fired
on Fort Sumter
in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor.

Less than 34 hours later,
Union forces surrendered.

Traditionally, this event used to signify
the beginning of the Civil War.

Self imposed onerous obligation
understanding difficult to comprehend
thought provoking printed material
subsequently generated
system of the down overload
mine (myopic) eyes see the words,
but their meaning doth not compute,
especially when an author
chooses to write

in a bewildering, style,
thus "Abort, Retry, Fail?"
(or "Abort, Retry, Ignore?")
an error message
found in DOS operating systems,
which prompts the end-user
for a course of action arises
within sixty plus shades
of gray matter within me mind.

At present my fascination and interest
with American history temporarily appeased,
whence yours truly
envisions himself a Yankee
in the Antebellum North
thirstily drinking information
detailing one figurative chapter
concerning, detailing, giving
The Civil War breadth,
scope, width, et cetera
a narrative spanning
Fort Sumter to Perryville
painstakingly written
by the late Shelby Dade Foote.

An overactive imagination of mine
easily populated with sights, smells, and sounds
linkedin to that rebellion
(as ascribed by Abraham Lincoln)
witnessing the secession
of South Carolina followed
by the secession of six more states—
Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia,
Louisiana, and Texas–
and the threat of secession by four more—
Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina.

These eleven states eventually
formed the Confederate States of America.

Though the internecine fighting
weathered the test of eighty seven years
since July 2, 1776, when
the Second Continental Congress,
meeting in Philadelphia,
voted unanimously to declare independence
as the "United States of America".
Two days later, on July 4,
Congress signed the Declaration of Independence.

The Second Continental Congress
not initially formed to declare independence.

****** battlegrounds
minted ******* military men,
which soldiers when not fighting
sang sentimental tunes
about distant love—the popular
“Lorena” and “Aura Lee”
(which in the twentieth century
became “Love Me Tender”)
and “The Yellow Rose of Texas”—
and songs of loss such as
“The Vacant Chair.”

Other tunes commemorated victory—
“Marching Through Georgia”
considered a vibrant evocation of Sherman's ...
March to the Sea.

Some even sprouted from prison life,
such as "*****, *****, *****."

Soldiers marched to the rollicking
“Eatin’ Goober Peas;”
they vented their war-weariness with “Hard Times;
” they sang about their life
in “Tenting Tonight on the Old Camp Ground;
” they were buried to the soulful strains of “Taps,”
written for the dead of both sides
in the Seven Days’ Battles.

When the guns stopped,
the survivors returned
to the haunting notes of
“When Johnny Comes Marching Home.”
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2020
Rain again, Rain again. Basketball delayed.
Aurelio spoke of Indra; I said: Dragon slayed.

Mass once in Dublin
Near the medieval ruins I prayed

Skylark on the tombstone
Carl Hiassen in Miami Dade

The Green Flash is for real
On the ocean the Green parade!

— The End —