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Leonoah Apr 2020
Alas sais y medya na ng umaga nang makauwi si Natividad mula sa bahay ng kanyang amo. Pagkababa n’ya ng maliit na bag na laman ang kanyang cellphone at wallet na merong labin-limang libo at iilang barya ay marahan siyang naglakad tungo sa kwartong tinutulugan ng kanyang tatlong anak. Hinawi niya ang berdeng kurtina at sumilip sa kanyang mga anghel.
Babae ang panganay ni Natividad, o di kaya’y Vida. Labindalawang taong gulang na ito at nasa Grade 7 na. Isa sa mga malas na naabutan ng pahirap na K-12 program. Ang gitna naman ay sampung taong gulang na lalaki at mayroong down syndrome. Special child ang tawag nila sa batang tulad nito, pero “abnormal” o “abno” naman ang ipinalayaw ng mga lasinggero sa kanila. Ang bunso naman niya, si bunsoy, ay kakatapak lamang ng Grade 1. Pitong taong gulang na ito at ito ang katangkaran sa mga babae sa klase nito. Sabi ng kapwa niya magulang ay late na raw ang edad nito para sa baiting, pero kapag mahirap ka, mas maigi na ang huli kaysa wala.
Nang makitang nahihimbing pa ang mga ito ay tahimik s’yang tumalikod at naglakad papuntang kusina. Ipagluluto niya ang mga anak ng sopas at adobong manok. May mga natira pa namang sangkap na iilang gulay, gatas, at macaroni na galing pa sa bahay ni Kapitan noong nangatulong siya sa paghahanda para sa piyesta. Bumili rin siya ng kalahating kilo na pakpak ng manok, kalahating kilo pa ulit ng atay ng manok, at limang kilo ng bigas.
Inuna niya ang pagsasaing. Umabot pa ng tatlong gatang ang natitirang bigas nila sa pulang timba ng biskwit kaya ‘yun na lang ang ginamit niya. Pagkatapos ay agad niya rin itong pinalitan ng bagong biling bigas.
De-uling pa ang kalan ni Vida kaya inabot siya ng limang minuto bago nakapagpaapoy. Siniguro niyang malakas ang apoy para madaling masaing. Kakaunti na lang kasi ang oras na natitira.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang kanin ay dumiretso na sa paghahanda ng mga sangkap si Vida. Siniguro niyang tahimik ang bawat kilos para maiwasang magising ang mga anak. Mas mapapatagal lamang kasi kung sasabay pa ang mga ito sa kanyang pagluluto.
Habang hinahati at pinaparami ang manok ay patingin-tingin s’ya sa labas. Inaabangan ang inaasahan niyang mga bisita.
Mukang magtatagal pa sila ah. Ano na kayang balita? Dito lamang naikot ang isip ni Vida sa tuwing nakikitang medyo normal pa sa labas.
May mga potpot na nagbebenta na pan de sal at monay, mga nanay na labas-masok ng kani-kanilang mga bahay dahil tulad niya ay naghahanda rin ng pagkain, at mga lalaking kauuwi lamang sa trabaho o siguro kaya’y galing sa inuman.
Tulog pa ata ang karamihan ng mga bata. Mabuti naman, walang maingay. Hindi magigising ang tatlo.
Binalikan niya ang sinaing at tiningnan kung pupwede na bang hanguin.
Okay na ito. Dapat ako magmadali talaga.
Dali-dali niyang isinalang ang kaserolang may laman na pinira-pirasong manok.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang manok ay paunti-unti rin siyang naglilinis. Tahimik pa rin ang bawat kilos. Lampas kalahating oras na siyang nakakauwi at ano mang oras ay baka magising ang mga anak niya o di kaya’y dumating ang mga hinihintay n’ya.
Winalis niya ang buong bahay. Maliit lang naman iyon kaya mabilis lamang siyang natapos. Pagkatapos ay marahan siyang naglakad papasok sa maliit nilang tulugan, kinuha ang lumang backpack ng kanyang panganay at sinilid doon ang ilang damit. Tatlong blouse, dalawang mahabang pambaba at isang short. Dinamihan niya ang panloob dahil alanganin na kakaunti lamang ang dala.
Pagkatapos niyang mag-empake ay itinago niya muna backpack sa ilalim ng lababo. Hinango niya na rin ang manok at agad na pinalitan ng palayok na pamana pa sa kanya. Dahil hinanda niya na kanina sa labas ang lahat ng kakailanganin ay dahan dahan niyang sinara ang pinto para hindi marinig mula sa loob ang ingay ng paggigisa.
Bawat kilos niya ay mabilis, halata **** naghahabol ng oras. Kailangang makatapos agad siya para may makain ang tatlo sa paggising nila.
Nang makatapos sa sopas ay agad niya itong ipinasok at ipinatong sa lamesa. Sinigurong nakalapat ang takip para mainit-init pa sakaling tanghaliin ng gising ang mga anak.
Dali-daling hinugasan ang ginamit na kaserola sa paglalaga at agad ulit itong isinalang sa apoy. Atay ng manok ang binili niya para siguradong mas mabilis maluluto. Magandang ipang-ulam ang adobo dahil ma-sarsa, pwede ring ulit-ulitin ang pag-iinit hanggang maubos.
Habang hinihintay na lumambot na ang mga patatas, nakarinig siya ng mga yabag mula sa likuran.
Nandito na sila. Hindi pa tapos ‘tong adobo.
“Vida.” Narinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng pamilyar na boses ng lalaki. Malapit niyang kaibigan si Tobias. Tata Tobi kung tawagin ng mga anak niya. Madalas niya ditong ihabilin ang tatlo kapag kailangan niyang mag-overnight sa bahay ng amo.
“Tobi. Andito na pala kayo,” nginitian niya pa ang dalawang kasama nitong nasa likuran. Tahimik lang ang mga itong nagmamasid sa kanya.
“Hindi pa tapos ang adobo ko eh. Ilalahok ko pa lang ang atay. Pwedeng upo muna kayo doon sa loob? Saglit na lang naman ‘to.”
Mukhang nag-aalangan pa ang dalawa pero tahimik itong kinausap ni Tobi. Maya-maya ay parang pumayag na rin ito at tahimik na naglakad papasok. Narinig niya pang sinabihan ni Tobi ang mga ito na dahan-dahan lamang dahil natutulog ang mga anak niya. Napangiti na lamang siya rito.
Pagkalahok ng atay at tinakpan niya ang kaserola. Tahimik siyang naglakad papasok habang nararamdaman ang pagmamasid sa kanya. Tumungo siya sa lababo at kinuha ang backpack.
Lumapit siya sa mga panauhin at tahimik na dinaluhan ang mga ito tapos ay sabay-sabay nilang pinanood ang usok galing sa adobong atay.
“M-ma’am.” Rinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng kasama ni Tobias. Corazon ang nakaburdang apelyido sa plantsadong uniporme. Mukhang bata pa ito at baguhan.
“Naku, ser. ‘Wag na po ganoon ang itawag niyo sa akin. Alam niyo naman na kung sino ako.” Maraan niyang sabi dito, nahihiya.
“Vida. Pwede ka namang tumanggi.” Si Tobias talaga.
“Tobi naman. Parang hindi ka pamilyar. Tabingi ang tatsulok, Tobias. Alam mo iyan.” Iniiwasan niyang salubungin ang mga mata ni Tobias. Nararamdaman niya kasi ang paninitig nito. Tumatagos. Damang-dama niya sa bawat himaymay ng katawan niya at baka saglit lamang na pagtingin dito ay umiyak na siya.
Kanina niya pa nilulunok ang umaalsang hagulhol dail ayaw niyang magising ang mga anak.
“Vida…” marahang tawag sa kanya ng isa pang kasama ni Tobi. Mukhang mas matanda ito sa Corazon pero halatang mas matanda pa rin ang kaibigan niya.
“Ano ba talaga ang nangyari?”
“Ser…Abit,” mabagal niyang basa sa apelyido nito.
“Ngayon lang po ako nanindigan para sa sarili ko.” garalgal ang boses niya. Nararamdaman niya na ang umaahon na luha.
“Isang beses ko lang po naramdaman na tao ako, ser. At ngayon po iyon. Nakakapangsisi na sa ganitong paraan ko lang nabawi ang pagkatao ko, pero ang mahalaga po ay ang mga anak ko. Mahalaga po sila sa’kin, ser.” mahina lamang ang pagkakasabi niya, sapat na para magkarinigan silang apat.
“Kung mahalaga sila, bakit mo ginawa ‘yon? Vida, bakit ka pumatay?”
Sasagot n asana siya ng marinig niyang kumaluskos ang banig mula sa kuwarto. Lumabas doon ang panganay niyang pupungas-pungas pa. dagli niya itong pinalapit at pinaupo sa kinauupuan niya. Lumuhod siya sa harap nito para magpantay sila.
“Anak. Good morning. Kamusta ang tulog mo?”
“Good morning din, nay. Sino po sila? ‘Ta Tobi?”
“Kaibigan sila ni ‘Ta Tobias, be. Hinihintay nila ako kasi may pupuntahan kami eh.” marahan niyang paliwanag, tinatantya ang bawat salita dahil bagong gising lamang ang anak.
“Saan, nay? May handaan po uli sina ser?” tukoy nito sa mga dati niyang amo.
“Basta ‘nak. Kunin mo muna yung bag ko doon sa lamesa, dali. Kunin ko yung ulam natin mamaya. Masarap yun, be.”
Agad naman itong sumunod habang kinukuha niya na rin ang bagong luto na adobo. Pagkapatong sa lamesa ng ulam ay nilapitan niya ulit ang anak na tinitingnan-tingnan ang tahimik na mga  kasama ni Tobias.
“Be…” tawag niya rito.
Pagkalingon nito sa kanya ay hinawakan niya ang mga kamay nito. Nagsisikip na ang lalamunan niya. Nag-iinit na rin ang mga mata niya at nahihirapan na sa pagbuga ng hangin.
“Be, wala na sina ser. Wala na sila, hindi na nila tayo magugulo.” ngiti niya rito. Namilog naman ang mga mata nito. Halata **** natuwa sa narinig.
“Tahimik na tayo, nay? Hindi na nila kakalampagin ang pinto natin sa gabi?”
“Hindi na siguro, anak. Makakatulog na kayo ng dire-diretso, pangako.” Sinapo niya ang mukha nito tapos ay matunog na hinalikan sa pisngi at noo. ‘Eto na ang matagal niyang pinapangarap na buhay para sa mga anak. Tahimik. Simple. Walang gulo.
“Kaso, ‘nak, kailangan kong sumama sa kanila.” Turo niya kayna Tobias. Nanonood lamang ito sa kanila. Hawak na rin ni Tobi ang backpack niya.
“May ginawa kasi si nanay, be. Para diretso na ang tulog natin at para di na tayo guluhin nina ser. Pramis ko naman sa’yo be, magsasama ulit tayo. Pangako. Bilangin mo ang tulog na hindi tayo magkakasama. Tapos pagbalik ko, hihigitan ko pa ‘yon ng maraming maraming tulog na magkakasama na tayo.”
“Nay…” nagtataka na ang itsura ng anak niya. Namumula na kasi ang mukha niya panigurado. Kakapigil na humagulhol dahil ayaw niyang magising ang dalawa pang anak.
“Anak parang ano lang ito…abroad. Diba may kaklase kang nasa abroad ang nanay? Doon din ako, be.”
Bigla ay nagtubig ang mga mata ng panganay niya. Malalaking butil ng tubig. Hindi niya alam kung naniniwala pa ba ito sa mga sinasabi niya, o kung naiintindihan na nito ang mga nangyayari.
“Itong bag ko, andiyan yung wallet at telepono ko. Diba matagal mo nang gusto magkaroon ng ganon, be? Iyo na ‘yan, basta dapat iingatan mo ha. Yung pera be, kay Tata Tobias mo ihahabilin. Habang nagtatrabaho ako, kay ‘Ta Tobi muna kayo.”
“Nay, hindi ka naman magtatrabaho eh.” Lumabi ang anak niya tapos ay tuluyan nang nalaglag ang luha.
Tinawanan niya naman ito. “Sira, magtatrabaho ako. Basta intayin mo ‘ko be ha? Kayo nina bunsoy ko, ha?” Hindi niya napigilang lambing-lambingin ito na parang batang munti. Kailangan ay sulitin niya ang pagkakataon.
Paulit-ulit niya itong dinampian ng maliliit na halik sa mukha, wala na siyang pakealam kung malasahan niya ang alat ng luha nito. Kailangan ay masulit niya ang natitirang oras.
“Nay, sama po ako. Sama kami ni bunsoy. Tahimik lang kami lagi, pramis, nay. Parang kapag andito si ser, hindi naman kami gugulo doon.” Tuluyan na ngang umalpas ang hikbi niya. Naalala niyang muli ang rason kung ba’t n’ya ito ginagawa. Para sa tahimik na buhay ng mga anak.
“Sus, maniwala sa’yo, be. Basta hintayin mo si nay. ‘Lika ***** tayo doon sa kwarto, magbabye ako kayna bunsoy.” Yakag niya rito. Sumama naman ito sa kanya habang nakayakap sa baywang niya. Humihikbi-hikbi pa rin ito habang naagos ang luha.
Tahimik niyang nilapitan ang dalawa. Kinumutan niyang muli ang mga ito at kinintalan ng masusuyong halik sa mga noo. Bata pa ang mga anak niya. Marami pa silang magagawa. Malayo pa ang mararating nila. Hindi tulad ng mga magulang nila, ‘yun ang sisiguraduhin niya. Hindi ito mapapatulad sa kanila ng mister niya.
“Be, dito ka na lang ha. Alis na si nanay. Alagaan mo sina bunsoy, be, ha. Pati sarili mo. Ang iskul mo anak, kahit hindi ka manguna, ayos lang kay nanay. Hindi naman ako magagalit. Basta gagalingan mo hangga’t kaya mo ha. Mahal kita, be. Kayong tatlo. Mahal na mahal namin kayo.” Mahigpit niya itong niyakap habang paiyak na binubulong ang mga habilin. Wala na ring tigil ang pag-iyak niya kaya agad na siyang tumayo. Baka magising pa ang dalawa.
Nakita niya namang nakaabang sa pinto si Tobi bitbit ang bag niya. Kinuha niya rito ang bag at sinabihang ito na ang bahala sa mga anak. Baog si Tobias at iniwan na ng asawa. Sumama raw sa ibang lalaking mas mayaman pa rito. Kagawad si Tobias sa lugar nila kaya sigurado siyang hindi magugutom ang mga anak niya rito. May tiwala siyang mamahalin ni Tobias na parang sarili nitong mga anak ang tatlo dahil matagal niya na itong nasaksihan.
Pagsakay sa sasakyan kasama ang dalawang pulis na kasama ni Tobias ay saka lamang siya pinosasan ng lalaking may burdang Corazon.
“Kilala namang sindikato yung napatay mo, ma’am. Kulang lamang kami sa ebidensya dahil malakas ang kapit sa taas. Kung sana…sana ay hindi ka nag-iwan ng sulat.”
“Nabuhay ang mga anak kong may duwag na ina, ser. Ayokong lumaki pa sila sa puder ng isang taong walang paninindigan. Pinatay niya na ang asawa ko. Dapat ay sapat na ‘yon na bayad sa utang namin, diba?” kung kanina ay halo humagulhol siya sa harap ng mga anak, ngayon ay walang emosyong mahahamig sa boses niya. Nakatingin lamang siya sa labas at tinititigan ang mga napapatingin sa dumadaang sasakyan ng pulis.
Kung sana ay hindi tinulungan ng mga nakatataas ang amo niya. Kung sana ay nakakalap ng sapat na mga ebidensya ang mga pulis na ngayon ay kasama niya. Kung sana ay may naipambayad sila sa inutang ng asawa niya para pambayad sa panganganak niya.
Kung hindi siguro siya mahirap, baka wala siya rito.
unedited
tangshunzi Aug 2014
Se c'è una cosa che dovete sapere su di me .è che io sono ossessionato con la caramella .Zuccherino.fruttato .cioccolatoso caramelle.il termine " golosi " e mi vanno di pari passo .Quindi questo capolavoro candy- ispirato di un matrimonio catturato da Ozzy Garcia Fotografia ?Beh.mi ha colpito con il suo bouquet caramelle ( SI ) .fiori rosa -riempita da Ocean Fiori e un infinito visualizzazione dolci.Clicca qui per tutti i dettagli squisiti .E ' al di là abbastanza .

Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsSpringSettingsOutdoorStylesTraditional Eleganza

Da Sposa.Yoav e ** iniziato .scegliendo un luogo che potesse ospitare il nostro matrimonio all'aperto .l'aria calda Miami .una tregua benvenuto da inverni ventoso di Chicago e



Amsterdam e un minimo cambiamento climatico per i nostri 30 membri della vestiti da sposa famiglia che hanno fatto il viaggio dalla lontanaIsraele.La nostra visione per la sera era comfort casual con un lato di zucchero e un paio di sorprese lungo la strada.Jessica Masi di JCG eventi assicurato che questa visione è venuto a vita e Ozzy Garcia .di Ozzy Garcia Fotografia .artisticamente catturato questa visione e immortalato esso .
Avevamo fratello Yoavs officiare una parte della cerimonia .perché abbiamo ritenuto che quando si trattava di integrare i dati personali .chi poteva raccontare la nostra storia meglio di qualcuno che è stato lì fin dall'inizio ?Abbiamo voluto questo per impostare il precedente e il tono per il matrimonio a tutti i presenti .testimoniando il primo giorno della nostra vita in coppia .sono stati tutti .personaggi integrali amare nella nostra storia .

amore è dolce .il mio amore per la caramella è ancora più dolce .e ** sempre saputo che volevo il mio bouquet di essere fatto di caramelle .Alcune persone si asciugano i loro mazzi di fiori .alcune persone li salvano .avevo intenzione di mangiare la mia.Grazie alla Donut Divas .** avuto un ottimo spuntino a tarda notte sulla mia prima notte di nozze !Alcuni dei miei dolci preferiti di zucchero .marshmallow e M \u0026 Ms .sono stati abilmente collocato in un cono di cialda gigante.Il vantaggio di avere un matrimonio in giro per le vacanze di Pasqua è che anche l'erba nel bouquet era commestibile .

Oltre alla mia dipendenza da zucchero .credo davvero che ci sono pochi prodotti alimentari in questo mondo che può farmi felice come una torta di compleanno Publix negozio di alimentari .Al fine di condividere il mio amore per questa confezione con gli altri.dolci display ci ha fatto diversi stand torta di legno colorati .a cui Ocean Fiori aggiunto qualche scintilla .e abbiamo avuto diversi gusti di 8 pollici torte Publix poste sulle tavole di accoglienza .Il piano era quello di rimuovere le torte dopo cena e li hanno tagliati per dessert .ma i nostri ospiti seduti a questi tavoli è diventato così possessivo nei dolci sul loro tavolo che non avrebbe permesso a nessuno di toccarli .I nostri ospiti scavate con le loro forchette .senza nemmeno togliere dalla torta stare !

Oltre a tutti gli elementi fugaci di zucchero che è andato in nostro giorno speciale - le carte escort .il bouquet .i pop anello caramelle .lecca-lecca ragazza di fiore.il candy bar .le torte Publix - Penso che uno dei nostri ricordi preferiti dail giorno è venuto da Erin Una Chainani .** letto di Erin online circa due anni fa dopo googling Miami ritrattista .** chiamato Erin e le ** chiesto se lei sarebbe così incline a frequentare il nostro matrimonio e dipingere una scena.Non solo era pronto.ma ha dipinto due scene di boot!Ha catturato uno della cerimonia e uno del nostro primo ballo in coppia .

Quando il mio nuovo marito ed io stavamo confrontando le note dopo il matrimonio .entrambi abbiamo notato abiti da sposa corti che molte persone ci hanno offerto questo consiglio .amare ogni secondo di questa giornata perché va così veloce .E mentre il giorno ha fatto andare in fretta .non abbiamo mai avuto l'impressione che abbiamo perso tutte le occasioni per tutto dentro E grazie a Erin e Ozzy .abbiamo ricordi che ci ricordano del giorno del nostro matrimonio per sempre .Fotografia

: Ozzy Garcia Fotografia | Floral Design : Mare Flowers | Abito da vestiti da sposa sposa: Pronovias | Wedding Cake: Temptations eleganti | Scarpe : Mojo Moxy | capelli: Tanya Maquez | Abbigliamento dello sposo : Completo di supporto | Cake Stands : Sweet Visualizza | Cake Topper: Questo è il mio Topper | Torte (piccolo ) : Publix Bakery | Candy Profumo: Donut Divas | Cigar Roller : Acope Cigars | Dress Sash : Blue Bird Studio | Orecchini : Matrimoni 826 | Pianificazione + Design : GCP Eventi LLC | Flower Girl Dresses :pretty Flower Girl | Scarpe Flower Girl : Toms | Trucco : Rachel Blair Shapiro | Ritratto Artista : Erin Una Chainani | Wedding Venue : The Palms hotel \u0026
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1
http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-corti-c-49
http://188.138.88.219/imagesld/td//t35/productthumb/2/2314635353535_397744.jpg
Miami matrimonio al Palms di Ozzy Garcia Fotografia_abiti da sposa 2014
When Michael Collins came, first from the courts of England,
which in low and lofty Londoun lately were helde,
while Thames there with treachery and treasoun did truly ring,
was Ireland ill split and beset with ignoble stryfe.  
Yet there a land lately formed was, where still folk lyve on mydllerde.

Though it is not in this warlike time of Dev that we our tale do set,
after these tymes of troubling stryfe, contentioun salted still the land.

Fine Fail and Fine Gael, then foes many yeres remained
till noblest amongst them, in qualities none lacking,
did do battle in old Dublin and vanquish the dred enemy.  
That mon who dreded nought, nightly then held his court in fair Dail Eirinn.  
Enda was called that man, and everysince has his noble courte endured.  

There, as Chrystmasse came, was assembled his cabinet fayre:
there Sir Wilmore the red, who waited on the grete lorde in readiness.  
There with grete courtesey, the kings coins to keep, sat Sir Noonan the balde.  
There Sir Reilly, learned in lore of leach and herb, who on erde had little left to lerne.  
Eek Sir Varadkar the gaye who granted was, the grete kinges horses to groome.  
Laste, the lovely layde Burton, who, the rede rose of Wilmore would long after carry.  

Other knyghtes numerous were there, but of these now, nought will I
tell,
for fallen to feasting were this fayre companye al and fayne would I not,
in tedious trials of descriptioun, your patience for to trye.
The first brief installment of a romance in Alliterative verse.  Alliterative verse belonged to the North West of England, and is quite different to the southern style of English poetry which was made popular by Chaucer.  For one of the finest examples of this style of poetry, and the parodic source for this poem, see 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.' Pardon the spellings.
Damian Murphy Aug 2015
Those like David McWilliams tried to make us see the light,
but our politicians were quick to tell us everything was all right  
It’s grand they said; sure our economy is booming,
though now it appears they knew disaster was looming
It seems the easy credit and ridiculous property prices,
left the banks owing billions, facing a financial crisis
and one night our politicians agreed the bank guarantee,
borrowing billions from Europe, selling our sovereignty.

The billions owed by the banks were to be paid by you and me,
which meant we all faced years of austerity
The money disappeared almost as quickly as Fianna Fail,
we were at the mercy of the Troika, Angela Merkel and all.
We owed billions in the form of a promissory note,
with billions to be paid each year, by rote
The banks and the developers washed their hands of it all,
some even representing us now in the Dail!

Yes the banks and bond holders who were mostly to blame,
did not lose a penny, they knew how to play the game
But for us there’s no help, it’s an absolute shame,
and the politicians reasoning sounds completely lame
We had our politicians and the business world to thank,
but they laughed all the way to the nearest offshore bank
Swiftly followed by developers and entrepreneurs,
all this country got from them was a collective Up Yours!
Janna Lynn Lee Feb 2019
The stairway you all climbed this year is definitely a great
walk it appears,
Hearing that you died today brings me to tears
hearing if you were still suffering brings out my fears.
Is he alone and is someone making him laugh
Was he able to get up and take his own bath
Did he sit by hisself and think his own morbid thoughts
Should I have gone out and just picked him up.
I feel Im always lagging behind to late
I dont want anyone to feel like they are smoothering
and want to escape.
I know that my loved ones are all gone and for a while
I wish to God there was a phone direct to just dail
I know today is your first day in Heaven
I know that you were on my mind when I gave my rent to Kevin
I wondered if you were on the stairs still making your walk
I know you might of lingered not going by a clock
I wondered in some strange way you came in my dream as Pat
knowing he was familiar and if it was you Id have an attack
Probably so because I was so sad on friday night
When I knew deep in my soul your were ready for flight.
Your voice seemed so weak, and you even said it to me
I said yeah def not the voice from before we agreed.
I know that you arent suffering....that is what we all say
I know I know I will see you on another fine day.
well fine for me going to a place of love and peace
But not for our loved ones and me right now Oh PLease
Come back for just a little while so I can laugh with you and see
you smile.   Make me giggle like you used to do, and I do the same to you.
I wanted to just hug you one more time but I guess it was your time to heal and shine
I know you do fine and be the head of something over there
Cause I know Bob and I know his voice will blare!  
Blare out the feeling Good once again
Feeling like the child that was made into your Man!
I love you, I send peace, Give me a sign once in a while
and maybe give me a call if there is a phone you can dail
or just let me look up in the sky and be proud
of that heart you might send me dressed up like a cloud.
Stu Harley Aug 2014
Steady wind
Turing this
Compass dail
Chromium blue sky
Covering this earth
Copper Mountains
Still touching
This glorious heaven
Pure joy
Snapping at your heels
When touching God
The touch of heaven
Winter snow solstic shows us
when cold slows bones to ice stones
and muscles chilled, while blood thickens
blurry vision from frozen retnas
tissue senseless cause our sences suspend us
from the inevatable light tunnel
the funnel, the big sun dail
exiled, buried deep in a snow pile
is the there a another ice age, awaiting back stage?
Ready to turn the page to a beautiful new fase
of this planet, our only lfe cage
Osilating axel, balanced in the void of a
spiraling dust cloud of penatrating noise
Beings adapted to stellar propeller through the
dimentional divide, alone in this realm we hide
so close to cold and certain death
our sun gives us life for the oxygen of our breathe
Yesss
Im a black sheep so i can diguise myself
Keep an AK 47 on the shelf
Dont ask me   Who i am?
Call me ****** i really dont
Give a ****!!
Action im built tough
Since i am public enemy one
The media will never get enough
Suckas aint nothing but a bluff
Sound the alarm
As the Dj gets rough give me some of that
Funkyy stuff
**** aint never hurt nobody
Guns leads to so many dead body
Killuminati
Is what i yell stop naw get the bail
And lets free
All my brothers incarcerated for free
Smooth.  As a criminal
My rhymes subliminal maximum minimal
Is the wage im in rage
Get the twelve guage
Lets do damage to the higher powers that be
I wasnt born a sucker
Im ready to die for free
In this world
Ya need fame just to get a little love for ya name
**** hip hop is where my heart is?
But its lost dont know where it is?
Killed by the jewish society gay mafias
Women and ill know they'll despise me
Truth is what i am
Urban radiooo doesnt even slam
Promote sloppy music to keep a rate on
I used a calling card
To dail in i tell them cut that ******* off or we'll break in
Entering to the station
play old school records rock the nation
I see you hesitation
Scared of a revolt took the emcees then jolt
Them out the way cuz they gay
Fashion fad lookin' peculiar
I still wear saggy jabos stocky medium afro
*******
Is the sound **** all these club sounds
No consciousness surround
The black community im all for unity
But how when the pushin' racism G ?
But ya know my topics will get tossed
Lost in the hour of the chaos
Damnnnn!!!!!
Cuz of the rebel i amm

Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
on holiday, minding my own business,
drinking alone watching middle-aged
german tourists talk absolute scheiße,
then these three kenyan beauties
make themselves at my table, and we start
talking...
   they were the supposed
entertainment... one?
    got, what a numbian
beauty... in that **** african plump body...
   body looking as if smeared in butter...
shimmering like a lake in moonlight...
if i was crazy enough i'd have said:
  **** it, i'm going to make my life in kenya
from now on...
         she was into marijuana too,
      felt like ****** tension after a while...
  to the other beauty i gave her a copy
of c. g. jung's modern man in
       search of a soul
...
other times i was talking with the bartenders
about how kenya was importing timber
from ghana... i avoided the white
people most of the time, for all i could know,
they were there for  a sun-tan...
              there was a joke
of the resort, a guy reading a book
pretending to be a sun-dail... yep...
stood by the pool, read a book standing up,
and rotated with the sun's position...
      then there was that game
of ping-pong with a german,
'you're funny'... he said...
i don't remember saying anything
funny though... the russian couple...
and the scottish couple... i got talking with
the scot about the band travis
and their seminal album 12 memories...
****** runs off and jumps into the pool...
  and then there was me
jumping into a pool with all my clothes on
with some blue indian...
africa is fun for two weeks,
after the heat starts biting
at you... feeding macaques
and laughing at rascal baboons
with hemorrhoids...
  **** me, europe is boring
by comparison...
  all we have is... pigeons!
i miss those macaques,
and those hemorrhoid-riddled
                    baboons... but **** me,
that kenyan girl was a stunner...
if i had enough incentive
to craft a plan worth a life-span
of, say, 70 years?
   i'd have stayed
                      and admired
that glee of moonlight lake mingled
with a butter-sheen of her skin
forever.

p.s.

o.k. let me get this straight,
how the **** did these slave-traders
catch a usain bolt on the savannah?!
i'm pretty ******* sure
that if you wanted slaves,
you wanted to catch them without
inflicting any injury...
  how the **** did they catch
the types akin to a usain bolt?
  white boy can't jump,
white boy can't outrun a black boy...
  you shoot an african hermes
you have a ****'s worth of *******...
meaning you have nothing...
you can't have slaves
    that have been injured...
               **** me, did it happen
out of their own accord?
   how would you ever capture a slave
when he can out-run you,
and a slave you have to catch
                                       unscathed?
was eddie murphy onto it?
     if he wasn't, then the congo
chieftan
  abu-diddly-squa-**-boh-boh-boh-tee:
eh! hussein! eh hussein ha-bah-ha-bah
was in on the transfer of goods...
    and to think that some people
think that there is no idea of hierarchy
and royalty in africa for
the common european smithy.
Francie Lynch May 2014
The sheep are shorn.
The lambs have flown.
The rams are caged.
The ewes left alone.

The fleece now woven on foreign shores,
And the toilets are flushed,
Filling sewers strewn with rebel nails.

Near embers of tri-coloured blazes
We hear yarns of ancient wages,
Now spinning in their graves.

Our heirs have no airs of their own.
No promises kept for mothers weeping.
There is no wool on the wheel at home.

The keypad is the abattoir,
The counter a barred cage.
John Barry faces East,
The Rebel faces West:
One for reliance,
One for defiance.
All wait in requiem silence.

The Dailys wrap the Dail
Stained with lamb's blood.
Penned after a prolonged stay in Ireland.
Jaimee Michelle Mar 2014
I called you today
Itd been months since we last spoke
And it was brief and awkward
I thought I was doing the right thing by reaching out to you
But I felt worse selfishly...
My phone call meant nothing to you
You couldn't even muster the strength to pretend to care
It was like you answered the phone to be cold, disinterested and just down right cruel
I know you heard my voice shaking
I know you know that it took all the courage I had inside me to dail that number
Our relationship is no relationship at all
You won't open the door
Even though I keep knocking
Why do I stand in the doorway, shut out, locked out?
Why do I think a relationship with you with fulfill my life?
Why did I think a "granddaughter" would light a fire under you?
Make you want to really hear mom's words from all those years ago, and reach back
Grab my hand and just say "I'm sorry"
But after all the venom spewed by me in furious moments... You felt you'd earned the right of the victim role
It makes cry and gag at the same time
I've been the victim of your bad parenting my whole life
The victim of your vicious words
Lack of respect and sensitivity
Helpless to your violent ways
But yet, I kept pleading with you to help me fix us
But in your eyes only I need fixing
And even if you don't feel that way, you refuse to admit it
My hearts been broken too many times to go on this
Nothing about you is home to me
I called you today
You took 2 mins to make me feel small and unlovable
It took me 24hrs to get your voice and your lack of concern outta my head
I may always want you to be part of my life
Even though, you've done nothing to earn me continuously being the bigger person
The sad goodbye
The phone call I instantly regretted
Made me wonder if you'd regret it one day too
But I hung up the phone while in the midst of a teary goodbye
I won't call again
I won't
I can't
The line is dead
Dad... The lines been disconnected. I hope you can live with it.
Check the mics to beats I wrecks inspect ya decks crew digits
Dail nothing but wins comprehend against the evils of men sins
Worn on my flesh I can attest manifest the magnificent  
Chariots blazing fire reaching for desire higher than a sire
Consumed the dryer as I heat up the fryer without the pan wu tang
Back at cha once again linked with black news cannon fannin'
All fakers make graves for undertakers shake ya
With the divine degrees pedigrees got em on bended knees
Catch the sneeze of a bullets bless you yo I'm special greet you
With a soulful touch make ya double dutch to the beats shifting clutch
Not much you can do once we break out the loot giving the boots
When we walk stomp around the yards skyscrapers bombard
Towers leaning I'm intervening on ya noggin beaming dreaming
Of ways to make a pay sways
The average shinobi ya owe me
Dont play me get smoked like a Dutchie ruthless Richie
Holding the keys Harlem Knight freak hoes into the twilight  
Darkness roaming nights plight sitting on the media snipe
Buckle ya head once the snaps is read midevil bloodshed
Twist cabbage dont invoke the savage living life have less
To embrace more cannabis see yall waving ya hand to this
Rakim Eric B stylist watch me pile this face my arch nemesis
Fools kicking this tryna re up I keep the stash of coke in the cup
Soaked up my dreams in kerosene burn slow of hate in between
It seems madness loves to company gladness I stand by the grist
******* weak rhymers small timers ain't nothing more liver
Scolding lava once I mold the opposition premonitions
I held up without being held up syrup laced so I can deeply abrupt
The sounds of the corrupt snaking products swift wit da clean cuts
Antony Glaser Aug 2022
Like a finger dail.
The wall is shallow.
Can't find the other side
Like a passing eagle,
of childhood fantasy.

Thoughts concealed.
Head in the clouds.
Now I'm whispering.
Winter is blue.
The sap is leaning.
Two decades ago, yo, I had this smooth appearal mack cameo,
Felt like a hero, upped my numbers from zero, I'm like there she go,
I'm only five, but I felt so alive, caught the stings, from hives,
Busy bee, a young queen, destined to be, my future destiny,
Light skinned ebony, with the long hair, small waist, n derriere,
I'm looking at myself like where, she came from, another kingdom,
Her name, imani, wish I wasnt so blinded by thee, potency,
Myfrequency, mad maxed out, tryna not to cop out, lights out,
Once i seen her, she set the beautiful sparks, deep in my heart,
Since five, ten years later, she lookin much greater, now a debater,
Mack skills, smooth operator, got her feelings, to closely crater,
In my soul, stretch her love vessels, spiritually, massaged the threshold, nerves stressed, to my muscle,
Hold on, as I take ya, on a stroll along, sound the gong,
Learn most rights, from wrong,beat on my chest, like Kong,
Long live the king, still searching for my queens, stacks surpeme,
Intellect shining, like a beam, touch  down, a new earthling,
A teenage love, just a flight of a lustful dove, soaring above,
Clouds of nine, **** what happend to this fine, chick,
She got beat, with the ugly stick, pregnancy, got her sick,
Now she wanna run to me, like I'm the man to be, pure agony,
She lost my respect, but **** I still, feel our love connect,
It's just child play, so I gotta break the connect, dail the digits,
On the rotary phone, approach the smooth baritone, it's on,
Mama said she wasnt home, all alone, I'm thinking,
As mind start to sink in, looking for more ways to break in,
**** why, love got me feeling like this, pop a cola crisp,
Slouched over the couch, two rings later,  it was Imani, remindin me,
Of how, much it would be,
If we could start a family, wait she already got a family, see,
But she laid with the wrong man, sorry ma, that's not my plan,
Understand, real man dont raise another mans, failed plan,
The she got mad, called me names, and said, I was like her dad,
I said, oh well justice shall prevail, **** playing games,
Far from a lame, bad choices led to your early morning pains,
I'm not the same, brother I was twenty years ago, no,
I rather see, my own seeds grow, teach them real ****,
Marry before you carry, before the situations, is marked scary,
Young imani, she used to look so sweet, now it's hard to compete,
Wish I could break, the time, and rewind two dimes, behind,
And start over, but that's life, made to be drunk, never sober,
Some things will never change, as society becomes deranged,
Too many women with the same name, pinned to shame,
Wasted fame, early now they want the painted glory, story,
How dare he?, talk about real ****, leaked, in the community,
Its no unity, child support is the new sport, to rake in a fort,
Extort, all of *******, let my thoughts of grace, pull hits, fits,
Form when I began, to brainstorm, baby girls a charm,
Keep the daddy in their lives, cuz it only brings dangers of harm,
New age, of men hating women pack the peace like Lennon,
We been lost since the beginning, when will ever find ending,
To this madness, enough with child play, baby you a lady,
Let the wisdom glow, soon you'll know, and we could grow
Lamar Cole Dec 2019
Homer was a farm boy who loved peanut butter and jelly.
And licking whipped cream and Froot Loops off of his girlfriend's belly.
One of his favorite places to **** her.
Was in a very large chicken coop.

Among all the feathers and chicken ****.
Afterwards, they would wash themselves off with Dail Soap and a garden hose.
Until they both came out smelling like a lavender rose.
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
this heart throws itself into an architecture that
once was...
whatever it may have been:
now... a "slacking" off-shoot of a pyramid:
piled up as such... but: a stagnant heap
of rubble...

                    i have to dare to call it a heart...
a heart will be content with such matters...
a hill of rubble or a glistening pyramid / sun-dail...
but the mind:
    if it's a cube... and it is a kabaah...
                               would the ottoman mind it
being precious... when he sights his envy
of the hagia sophia?
                       the mind couldn't possibly be made
inclined to revel in a heap of rubble...
this... what would be called:
the revisionism of Samson... begin! once more...
oh but i can be permitted...
having burdened myself with over 10 years
and 20 of these torpedos smoked each day...
i can... relax... enjoy the: leftover days...
give a hard tug at the reins... refrain from...
excesses...

       wait with the annoying patience
of a spider...
                  for the ritual... a packet of cigarettes...
how many rubber bands enclose it?
ten... perhaps eight... i take them off...
and satisfy myself with putting them around
a wine cork... i light up...
i'm 18 years old again: getting drunk for
the very first time...
there's the disorientation... there is that
great stone in my stomach...
   such a brief interlude...
            i feel my limbs failing me...
         such a brief interlude with...
   allusions to: crack-*******... the ****** hit...
this whole plethora of stepping up
the gateway "drug"...
                     at best metaphors...

cutting down from 20 cigarettes to just 2...
             it will: reveal so much...
                          that was otherwise...
a blunt reading of the whole "affair"...
                             and this is just before going
to bed... more like: falling asleep on the floor...
then jumping into bed...
such the tremors... now i can't imagine myself
having smoked: 20 in a day...
if it is supposed to be ritual...
               it couldn't ever be coupled
with a coffee and a cigarette: first thing in the morning...
that... jack daniels has aftertastes
of blueberry bubblegum...
and that jim beam doesn't...
and that... after drinking any bourbon...
even the more tame: middle of the road scotch
is... overtly smokey...

              even if you... shove it into a fridge-freezer
and wait for... the gomme syrop consistency...
did anyone write... a poo'em about tobacco?
well... whoever said -
a cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure.
it is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied.
what more can one want?

that must have been oscar wilde...
then... what cigarettes am i smoking?!
my sense of taste is sharpened...
the fog has lifted... two days ago i killed
a man in my sleep and was known as
the zodiac killer... on the stairs someone mentioned:
a truly literary invention of genius:
the ******...
      i draw blanks on the ******...
but... now i can enjoy the alcohol...
more... since... and the smoke has lifted...
and i no longer fall into the chasm of sleep
with a mirror... i fall into it with rubble and broken
glass...
the universe can finally **** my head
in with a dream!

            and once the ritual one is smoked...
i wait for about an hour before smoking
the second... and close the chapter - a day -
   perhaps mr. wilde wasn't referring to smoking
a cigarette... within the frame of mind of...
"sobering" up... or going cold-turkey for a day...
my third day of quitting...
on the third day: pangs of conscience...
why am i deriving so much pleasure from...
well... lucky me... tobacco is taxed...
it's not ******... but... i have allowed myself
to elevate it to: status...
of being 16 again and getting busy-buzzing
from the froth of cheap white-lightning cider
in a youth-club with a snooker table and sleepover
permission...

to hell with chewing gum and:
synthetic approached of nicotine patches...
imagine it: a priori...
  fake it... whatever... the analytical approach
says: curb your "enthusiasm"...
from 20 down to 2... and these 2... at the end
of the day...
                   that's the analytical approach...
the synthetic approach is:
run to the pharmacist! be weak willed!
slap on a nicotine patch... chew some gum...
forget the original smokers of tobacco...
calls them apache: high for five minutes...
no time for herr-schtyg 30 minute marijuana
"menopause"... and laughter...
for the full seance of gravity... of drowning
while breathing air...
please! don't mention the choco-bytes of peru
or: whatever came from that...
splinter continent...
            
       departure points...
   capitalists... neo-capitalists...
youtube... video making...
  sponsor hustling - ad-revenue 'clops' -
capitalists...
            the capitalists...
that were the engineers that made...
video-streaming...
         not all...
   a capitalists... by... 19th century standards
and: prior...
KRUPP... the krupp family...
                  em... ford...
                        a snap-chat... twitch streamer:
capitalist... venture...
                  venture-capitalist...
roy orbison: robinson crusoe capitalism...
magic strings and usb-oyster insert:
button...
        i like the old capitalists...
the power brokers...
the... mean-toddlers...
                  capitalism for the sake of money...

no... wait... geoffrey faber - 1929...
publisher... publishes... sub-contracts
authors...
capitalist... well thank god...
ultra-pseudo-capitalist: platform...
             content is free: no... wait...
you have to invest in the platform...
                  drug-addict: the best piece of ***
in the world... froth-at-the-mouth...
content... it's not legit: no paper...
              capitalist...
a capitalist that: gives work to...
200 engineers... 2,000 metallurgy workers...
or... 20,000 homeless poets and "poets"...
in waiting... capitalist: ask.fm: capitalist...
spotify... £0.002 for each song streamed...
capitalist!
                neu-band-windth...
                        pimpin'-******...
               neu-brave... neu...
                    the logistic of the enterprise
of: optics... would... ah... never mind...
what isn't solved by £130 once a year... or two...
in an hour in a brothel...
than... otherwise... renting a flat...
having a loan on a car...
     spending too much money on clothes...
perfumes... drinks...
for a what otherwise becomes...
a gambling addiction...
             ******* to that... sign me up!
straight to the bulgarians i go...

- by the tender-roots: a loving grace...
           a fatherly delusion...
                  none of my own... yet with...
mother death...
the illusion of pandering to...
                the conclave.... of... we...
about... to... change... the world...
using... nothing... more... than...
the logic of... Archimedes...
              by the tender-roots: a loving grace...
        and that: ****-load of...
impulse and: leverage... just about right:
tight... straining in all the right... place...

sore thumbs: misfits of knuckles...
to give up writing poetry is the energy of youth...
to become a retired: et al.
of teacher, activist... humbled sea-gull...
a richard levine...
   not to diminish the reading...
  to entomb it... to squabble with a moth over
the insomnia of light and...
the ready-and-*****-waiting:
access to the wardrobe for her to
deposit her larva of...
then the argument with the cat who
pretended it was all about alcatraz:
through the window he jumped onto
the roof with my back turned...

         hoarse worth of voice attempting
to woo him back: to sleep sensibly: not as a stray...
in the garden with the foxes...
this is hardly an over-arching Dickensian
chapter... it's a quasi-taped-together
lot of... 3 paragraphs worth... at worst...

- these capitalists... "capitalists": major majors...
treating "mental health" like it's some
gimmick for: talking intelligently
to low i.q. people: the juggling act...
                left to their own purposes...
the gnashing of teeth...
the song sung... when... wood is broken...
chopped... contra.. when it is tailored
by a carpenter to suit a sitter:
via a chair...
                         is it really a contenst between
the quadratic of:

marconi                        fessenden




dubilier                         popov?

i much appreciate the comment section?
sideline: hobby... am i being paid for...
writing + pandering to... what?
cheap ****: hot bagels...
you either like it or...
        i would be pandering to an audience...
if... i was... but i'm just content with
having the canvas: made available!

"too long"... too short... i guess i wish i was
a teenager once again...
fortunetly for all of "us": i'm not.
Mohd Arshad May 2019
It's a frog
In the pond of your heart
It is there by birth
It keeps croaking, croaking croaking
Like the alarm it breaks your sleep
And disrupts dail activities

Pull it out to the road to be mowed
Mike Hauser Feb 2020
Check the meter, she's a keeper
With a pocket full of change
Every minute you feel you need her
Is another counted to your day

You've stayed too long with her in your thoughts
But you don't mind the fine
As you come to life's cross walk
First look left, then look right

Standing by in uniform
Uniformly passing time
You have your needs along with wants
As you add another dime, turning up the dail

To the meter cause she's a keeper
With a pocket full of change
Every minute that you need her
Is another added to your day

— The End —