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Eros Oct 2014
I've been practicing lucid dreaming for a while now, and I think I've almost got it down.

(If you didn't know, lucid dreaming is kind of like dreaming, but with the lights on. It's very cool.)

The way it works -- or at least, in the method I'm using -- is by first establishing a "totem." I use the jade elephant you gave me for my birthday three days before it happened.

What you do is you alter your totem in a unique way so that it really stands out to you, incase you ever come across it in your dreams; this way hopefully it will jump-shock your mind into consciousness, allowing you to take the wheel.

I wrote your initials on the back. DN.

And I know you'd probably be thinking "why would you ever waste time perfecting a skill that will never have any practical use?"

You always were the practical one. But hear me out.

When I dream, it is the only time I get to see you.

You know, you've been gone for almost a year this Tuesday, and this jade elephant is all I have left. This jade elephant, and your initials. This Jade elephant, and DN.

I miss you, man.

And I don't really know how comas work, but if you can hear me, just know that I've almost got it down.

Soon, it'll be just like the old days.
I promise.
the goldfish sing all night with guitars,
and the ****** go down with the stars,
the ****** go down with the stars
I'm sorry, sir, we close at 4:30,
besides yr mother's neck is *****,
and the ****** go down with the etc.,
the whrs. go dn. with the etc.
I'm sorry jack you can't come back,
I've fallen in love with another sap,
3/4 Italian and 1/2 ***,
and the ****** go
the ****** go
etc.
from "All's Normal Here" - 1985
Kiamm Aug 2014
CMD
now is the time to ALT your view;
SHIFT your perspective.
FILE away the things that made you you
and INS a new way to live.

forget about CTRL;
PG UP or PG DN.
i CMD you to find your soul
and put an END to that frown.

so, from now on, whenever you think of HOME
PAUSE, ESC and think of a new poem.
This is for all the IT geeks out there. I wrote this after watching Dead Poets Society for the first time, utterly inspirational.
J
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­
Your probably wondering why this poem is called J. It's because there aren't any Js
.                         A
                     Tiny hat
                My forefathers
            Humble beginnings
        I somewhat envy them bec
Ause then,they had their own styl
          E with self made values
          And rules not trying to
          Copy others but living
          in utmost grace and si
          mplicity.though I woul
          dn't want to live back;
          in those days,I respect
   The strength of my forefathers
   Their intellect and wisdom,yes.
Poet X May 2021
DN
you are so beautiful,
a soul as pure as sunlight
and a smile that challenges even the sea with it's depth.

you have captured me and my heart,
a feat many have tried and none have accomplished.

you are the kind of person worth writing about,
a poem worth speaking
a song worth singing
a dance worth expressing,
a canvas i would love to paint.

i imagine being allowed to love you is alot like runners high,
or any type of high.
but this poem is far too long,
and i have promises to keep,
and miles and miles to go
before i sleep.
my first love poem in a while
˙qɹn ןpnsɥo so ɥıʇʍ pǝsdu ıu sʇbǝɐ ɥǝʇ
؛ɥʎʇ ɥıs bʇןuɯǝı ǝɔɥɐ ʇıɟʍs
˙pɐu ıɹbɐısudǝp ɐɯuoʍ ʇo ʇuǝɥ onʇɥ ıu ʎɯ ʇɐʇɥ pǝʎɐdן ıu ǝʇɥ ǝɹɥ ı duɥʎnɐd poǝu
˙bıɯɥʇ ɹɥǝ ɐpu ɐɥǝp buıǝɹnʇʇןɟ spoǝ s’ןoʌǝ ʇɐ ʇʇuıuǝ ǝɹɥ ǝbɹɐ
؛ןɐן“ buıʇdɐu ǝpuʇɐʇ
؛pǝʇdoıu npǝɹ ubıʞ pɐoɯuɯɔ ɹǝǝbɐ unʇɔ ʞsıdɹɔ ʞǝɐʍ ıu
˙ıubɹǝuɐʍp ןɐן ɥʇnoɯ
˙bnuɹsd ɹǝɥ
؛ʎɐɯ dɹɐʇ ǝnɹʇ ǝnboʇu
˙ןʌǝo ɥʇǝ ɹɥǝ
؛ɐpu u’ʌǝ sןsʇǝnظ spıǝɥ
؛ɐpu ɹsʞuqı qpʇǝ ǝʇous
˙ɐןʎ upɐʇs ǝʌןɯǝsǝsɥʇ ɥıs ʎןɐuʌı
˙sǝoןɔ ɯsɹɐ oʇ ʎʌǝǝɹ ןɟɐɐʇ ɥǝɹ ɯǝsɐןɟ npoןɔ pɐu
˙ɐʍʇɥ pıp ʇnbɹu ǝuɹnʇɹ dʎɐ supsǝuıʞ uɹǝpıɔ sɟɟnɔ pooqן ɐɥʇʇ ɯǝ ʍsoɥ ɹǝʍɟoן ǝssʇɹǝʇ ¡ɐɐsן ɯʎ
˙ǝʇsɐʍ ʇsɯıɹǝɥ ʍoɥɯ ɹǝɐdɹǝd ʎʍɐ nqʇ sǝןɐɟ ɥsʇı ɯoɹɟ sǝɹpoɹ pןoɔ upɐ ɥɹǝ qǝsɐ ʇoɟo oʇsp
؛ɥɐǝʇp ıbuɹʌı bɥnoɹʇɥ ıbɥusʍı ɐpuɥ oʌbuɯunı
؛ʎuɐ uıʇıɥʍ ʎɯ ʇo ןןɐ ǝunɹnʇ sɥıb bɹıunɯɹnɯ nʇoɥ zuǝɹɟo
˙qɹǝıɯן ɯʎ ǝʇɥ ʍuʇo ɹǝǝuʌ ʇnuɔ sǝɥɹɔɔɐu ɹo pɥɐu ɐɹpǝ ǝʌsןopıs ǝʇsoɹɹǝ ʎɹnɔouʇ
˙ı ʌoןǝ ɐɹɯs pɐu oʇsd ɥobnɹɥʇ uo oʇ sʇןɐ ʇoɟ ʇɐǝɔuǝɹɹ ɔɥns pɥɐ spǝo ssʞı
؛ǝppʎ ɹıǝɟ pɥɐǝǝɹɔ
؛uıbʞɔnɟ ʇɥǝ oʍɥ ı ¿ɹɟoǝǝq
˙suıɥsʞɹ ןןsɐɯ
˙nʇq ʎɯ s’ɹnǝʇdɹɐ ɔɥonʇ
˙dɐɹʇ ɐʇdɹ ןʇןsı ǝspo ıs“ ǝnʇɹɐu oɯsʇ pǝuɹbʍo ǝʇɥ ɐ uo
˙ʇı ǝɥɐʇ ʇsopǝ ǝıɹǝsp oʌɹǝ buobıןu ouɹ
˙ɐ ıbןuɟɐɯ ʇıs ɯʎ ǝɹɐǝb bsןǝ pɐu ou sɥǝ ʇuɯʇǝodı uǝǝpdp ǝɹɯo ɔǝɯɹɐǝq puıʞ upɐ ɥpsʍǝı ɹǝ’o
˙ısɹǝsǝp uoʍ
؛ɥʇıʍ sısqן upɐ
˙ɥnʇo ı ʇɥuɐ pıubןɐn
؛ʍoʇɹɥ so pɥɐu ǝɹod ɹɥǝ dnןɯ
؛ǝsnɟǝɹ ɥbnoʇɥɹ ssןǝdɐs npoouɟɔu oʇ op oʎqp ou ǝuʇ ɯʎ ɐ
؛ʞɔnss ʍoɥǝɹ ɐ ¿oǝןʌ pɐu ıɥʇʍ ıoʇu
؛ǝǝʇɥ ɹǝsǝʇɹǝp uqnɹ ʎpɹ ןnso pıbnןı ʇǝɥ :sǝɹʌıʇ ıu oʍɥ ʇɥɐʇ uı ʎɯɐ ɐɟıן
˙oɟ dssı ʞqsǝɐɹ uɐp upǝǝıɔnbsɔ dn
؛ʇuo ǝɹ’ǝ buɹoǝʌıɥ ʇnq uǝʇʌǝdɹ
˙ɐpןǝ ɐ upɐsʇnɥo ǝɯ
˙sǝǝɐspı uʇo :pɐʎǝʇs ǝɹ’o ɥɹǝ ɥıʍʇ oʇ ʍuǝɥ ɥʇıʍ bʇɥon npןʍʇo’ sʍǝsuןǝp
˙ɐ ɐuuɔıɹo
˙ɐ bbıuıɔuן ɐɐʍʎ noʇɥ
؛sɥı ssǝɐɥ
؛ɹǝssǝן pıbnǝ ɟı ǝoןʌ ʍıɥʇ ɯɔןɐı ”¿ǝɹoɯ
˙ǝbɐ ʇo ǝʇbɐɹ ǝǝɔuıpǝqo oʇ bɹɐǝǝ uoɯɔoɯ ɥʇɟɹoǝɥuɔǝ
˙ɟsuɯɔɹıo ɟoɹ ʞɥuɹns ʇo ǝoɹɯ ʍǝoqן bsɥo
؛ɔıbɐɯ ou ɔıʍɥɥ upɟno
؛pǝʇɔpɹǝı ʎןbǝɐןn
˙oɟ ɟo ısǝן os —ǝɐpɯ
؛—ǝɐʇɹɥ ǝɯ osɥǝʍ ɹo ɹʇısɟ sǝuoı ɔbɹuǝııd
˙ɐɹɟı ıbdsuǝǝʍ oǝʍɥɹ
˙ʇı ʇɥno pǝɹıdsuı ǝʍsʇ ɔɥǝɐ ʇo ןpnoɥs ɥqʇo
˙uʇǝ sǝpɥıɔ pʎɐןdǝıps ǝɥ
؛ɥoɹʇǝɔ sʇɥı nqʇ dɔǝpɹıǝ bʇuıןɥıub ubıןqɯʇɹǝ ɥıʍʇ ǝɹǝʌʎ ǝɥɹ
˙ɟɔǝɐ qnʇ pǝǝɥʇɹıʍ
˙ıpq buɹɐoıɹ
˙ʇo ɯʎ ɹqǝɐן sןɟǝsnɟɔ ɐ
˙ʇo ʇs’ɹɐp ɯǝ ʌoɹpsǝןǝ ɥɹǝ ظʎso ʎnɹɐbɹsuʇ
؛ɔuʇuɐo upɐ ʇsɯn pǝnsɟuoɔ sppıʇ ʇןsıɥʍ ʇɐsǝɹq sǝıʍd qןɹʇɐn sɐ ǝpʌɐıu ɹo
؛sʎnq ǝıʌɐן ɐ qǝ
؛ʇɯos ʎɟןıʇsɟ nǝsʌuoɐɹ ʌʎɹǝǝ sɐpʎ
˙sɯʍɐɹ dʎɹǝ ʍǝ pouɐsʇɥn pɐu
˙ʎɯ ןuɐɐɔps ʌsǝıʍ s,ʞoןo ǝɥs ǝʞıן uǝdsp ʎɹǝǝʌ ǝɹɟı ʇo ʇǝnɹsɔǝɹɐɥo nɥʇo buıʇןubı ʇo pǝıʇɹ
˙ɐʇ ʌǝɔı oɹןɐʌ :ʇ’ ɯʎ pǝɐʞu ǝʇɥ
؛ʎnɹɟ sʌǝǝǝןıɹ uoɐsısd ɥnboʇɹɥ sןǝʎsןɔɹɐǝ spıɐɯ
؛uı ɐɯu uʇnʇɥןɹqpǝo ǝʇsɐɥ ʇsppı oʇ ısǝɹɔ ɐ ǝɯɐɥs ʍɥɥɔı
˙ɟǝןı ɯʎ oʎظs po ʎɥʇ puɐ noʇɥ ןqɯuıǝ ʎuɔʌoǝ dʇuıo ןɐן
˙ɹǝɐʇɥ ı
˙ssʞı ıu ʇo ɹɯɟo ǝʎɹʌ ɥǝʇ dsןıɔ ʇosן sʇdɐ oɟ ǝıן ןɐן ʇo ɹnɥo uɥǝʍ
؛ǝɯɐʞ ʎʇɥ ǝɟɐɯ dןɔǝɐps
˙ʇʍɐɥ ʇs’ʎɐɯ uǝʍɥ ɹǝ’ǝʍǝɥɹ ןǝןǝʞɹɐɥ dn
˙ɹǝɥ ʇı ʇɹsʍo ¡ʎǝoq ןǝɟpıן ıɐp ʎʇɥ
؛oןns ʇsʎɯɐ ʎןɯɐɔɯ sʇɥʇnɥob buıuɯsnɔo ɥıɔʍɥ ʇɐɹp uıɐןןıʌ
˙ǝɹ’o ɥɹǝ ɐsǝɟן uɯɐ
؛ɟo oʍpnן ǝuʞsɐɯıʇ
؛buıןosʌıps-ןɐן ǝןɟɯɐ ǝɹʍoɥ
˙ǝɹnǝɐןsd ǝɹɥʇǝ ɐןן ɐsǝq ǝuʍɥ oʇ ı sɐɥ
˙sǝɹndʇɐɹ ןןɐ ʇןɯǝ
؛oɯqos nǝp ʇɥɐʍ pǝɐıʌu
˙uɔnʇ ʎɯɐqן ɯɯoɔuo-ɹɐbǝbq-ɹǝpıuɔ-ǝʇɹosʎ ǝsɔɔsns u’ǝʌ
˙pןǝıddɐ ʇɥsı ǝǝʇɥ ʎɯ ɔǝdıuɹ ǝɥʇ sɥǝ ʇusoǝ sɔınɟoıɟo ǝdʌɹo ɹo
؛sɯɹɐɔɥ uɐsɥb upɐ
؛ɯɹsdǝ puɐ ɥsǝ buıןsıɯ puɐsonɥʇ
؛sʇǝɯǝ ʞǝıן ʇɥɹıb ʇo ǝsssıʞ ʇo ”¿ʇoo sı ɥʇıʍ ɐ oǝןʌ ɐɹʇ ʎɯ ǝʌoǝpʎuɔ dsıן ǝɥs ɹuɟoןoɹ ʇɔnu
Mahdi Dn Apr 2014
Glaring eyne art thine
Flaring they are; Daz'd I am.
Soothing ludene is thy tone.
To hear it; is to roam
Inside my head, like I am home.
Thou art the fountainhead of dark waters
Atop thy head, eternally it falls.
Thy arch shoots me happiness,
I shall not dodge. I shall not!
-Mahdi Dn.
An expression of feelings towards a special one, through a practice of archaic English.
Sydney Ann Mar 2015
Iwanttobefree
        soIwillbefree
               Ihavethepower
                   poweryouwoul
                        dn'tbelieveI'md
                             onechasingbutt
                                  erfliesI'llneverca
                                      tchthemanyways
                                            I'mflyingwiththe
                                                   mnowafairyno
                                                        wsoyouchooseme
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
i gather, all philosophy is written on the anti-cross, or a sickbed... and all maxims on the deathbed - in between there's nothing but vain distractions that have no basis for a consensus of surprise - they are merely therapies of manual labours, shadow-caste by weakness to invoke a sense of belonging to this world akin to a labourer of pure action - reduced to the same pure action: as one might showcase faking one's own death.

Kant said of poets: bothersome flies -
here to steal the cupcakes of my pondering:
zwischen die volkern erzielt wird
a mondus vivendi - in vivo or in vitro?
alter: mondus quasi vivendi -
and all that talk about sabotage (canto xix)?
his own poetry - even the sarcasm, but
especially the sarcasm shines through pristine
as if Hannibal Lecter talking about Alabama:
i gawt dem tousand doughlars tough mak 'em...
        awl over the plaice -
            got to give Ezra the cheek for demonic
slapping to shove that one, up their pristine
temple of ahoy ****! still, the variation is there:
usury and simony - talk of,
       Thomas the Cartesian -
Peter Simon the Usurer - the rock that gave
way to 1000% a.e.r. of maggot - interests rates
and what they said about her:
         piece of meat for the film, *****,
second rate: ***** slapped to Disney - and aren't
women natural sadists? i guess the Cesarean section
was a move in the wrong direction:
*****, pain! *****, pain!                well...
          if i was ever to be bothered, i'd be bothered now:
they're saying you need your genitals stretched
like Armstrong winning the 8th tour de france -
but f.g.m. is bad, bad bad bad -
hey, i was the one who said: get an abortion,
i didn't love you in the same way i ****** you...
you'd think she wouldn't think she was a murderer
akin with me, until the **** ***** turned into
a yanking diaper wearing blob -
                  i love how precursor physics akin to
post-physics (metaphysics) is entombed with pepper
ante: so sneeze into the benzene ring and get
either para- or ortho- physics out -
but she was russian orthodox, which is worse
than roman catholic: no feeling of guilt -
just the relativity factor: forget female rights:
let's just **** the ****** for giving her freedom -
yeah... and i just graduated and couldn't find
a job in chemistry, was working as a roofer:
she has two apartments in St. Petersburg and a mansion
in Siberia... and she sums it up as: i have no money.
blah ha ha ha ha; and i have an aunt in Warsaw
who sends me monthly stipends to drink myself to
death while i write the alternative to Proust.
  he really gave it to them in Ohio: i really gave it
back to London, imagine being published in the town
of your birth, simply because the western notion
of a book: is actually a brick, or a rubber door-stop -
unless you're famous? forget it... seriously,
they really have destroyed poetry with the idea that
autobiographies will **** poetry off...
question is: if you lived an interesting life...
why would you write a book? why would you?
i'm sure you'd continue making life interesting,
Don Juan wrote a book, Faust was like: bartender!
next round! and what's with these ghost writers?
that's like taking the concept of narration
and inventing a fourth dimension -
            our literary tastes and ambitions... are actually
ruled by dyslexics - people who not only can't
write... but who primarily can't punctuate...
now... if this is a healthy society (that we live in)...
then i guess Iraq is an improvement after toppling
Saddam... bra-*******-vo.
                         if i were the west i'd shut up
for one generation, and stop this political fetish of
foreign policy - but, as you guessed it... it won't work...
           just today, a program: 15 years after -
truth, lies, and conspiracies - well... if Guy Fawkes
did blow up parliament, we wouldn't be having
bonfire night celebrations, we'd be having debates...
but since Guy Fawkes plot was a failure:
ola anonymous! ola whoever...
                  and that massive tower in Dubai?
it was an architectural coup - let's freshen things up,
let's keep the competitive streak coming -
who's ******* overshadows all other erections
(egoism)? point is... i don't even care,
         there's no point playing hide (deny) & seek
(doubt) with these people... there's no point!
         i'm not seeking the ultimate noun -
    or how you perpetrate grammatical cleansing:
you basically strip words of meaning,
   and drop them, face-down, into their respective
grammatical category, and the job's done:
no grander meaning, no ulterior purpose,
    no alternative suggestion;
        or rereading Nietzsche - you either recite
something by the author, or you cite the authority
behind your own investigation - the former is
sycophantic stagnation, the latter a narrative continuance:
                furthermore? continual nuance.
    that's how rhyme will remain until i find
the original intention of poetry's need for rhyme to
   be anything but what it currently is: unappealing -
it's like poets want to write something that can be
classified as poetry... which obviously leads to
  the controversy of: but it's so ****** unappealing!
  hence the revision of rhyming to and from couplets -
   i only came across an interest in philosophy aged 21...
  any sooner and i'd fall for reciting dogmas and
upholding the arguments of others...
                   but i only came across this subject through
a collision with strife: or the lost care to strive
   in order to suspect a need for social ascension into
  the heights of respectable society of: horse racing
at Ascot, champagne and caviar: and airs: oh may i,
   oh you do indeed, sir.
                            and in each and every one of us:
   the brute: the comedian.
       what Nietzsche did to emphasise with italics,
  i'm doing it with the colon - for it is said that the colon
economises emphasis without Niccolò de' Niccoli
                           (ò) - i.e. Nichole - née coal -
in French: cut short; which means? have you ever seen
a new form of literary monopoly emerge
that wasn't ecclesiastical? i have... the diacritical markings
on standard Latin letters - they're not taught:
merely accepted -                   suspension of illiteracy
             hibernating in ages of education:
on purpose dangling - the stick a metre from your
head, the carrot a Don Quixote fata morgana -
  truly: a mirage.                SKY: believe in better.
all those guys in advertisement know their philosophy -
once i met a guy who once worked in advertisement
and was shocked when i summed up Sartre as:
                                                                         voyeurism.
  but there's a new monopoly on literacy in town,
it's obviously more refined than the old way of
telling secrets -
                            it's refined in the sense that i too would
have doubted whether that's haiku in ensō or enso'h -
dried up laughter, or the desert of once heard
laughter: lo'h 'n' behold a stammer for an earthquake -
so soon? yep, that much sooner.
                           looking at it, it's all Copernican
east north south west with some encoding, or all of them:
   up there, on the international space station
you get a hard-on thinking about nautical mathematics.
   i get him though, Nietzsche the Preacher -
              although i limited my experiences in order
to never agree with his observations that precipitated from
his experiences - none of them could have come
from *a priori
musings - what with his menage trois -
   again: ménagé (à) trois - or faux pas, i.e. fau(x) pa(s) -
                   as Xerxes said: war!     (alias Łar -
     warsaw - or?   Łarsała - siała baba mak, nie wiedziała
jak - chłop powiedział: a to było tak... a sea-saw)
  while  some dwarf Polish Duck, a.k.a. politician added:
     V'AR!         -             while in this
  retreat in France - Taizé - i served out lunch and dinner
for the congregation, working with this German
  who preferred spiritual duty than army conscription
service; a memorable quote by him though:
   vey d dn't oonderstaand my good En'glish arr-cent:
   plus the Schwarzenegger for comparative literature.
Sudipta Maity Nov 2018
Hey there!
My dear birthday girl.
surrounding among friends
standing in front of the table,
getting redy to slice the cake.
Wishper, how do you feel?
Have you forgotten me yet?
or I'm still remain as bubbles
in your heart?
Dn't worry! please smile.
for me, it's no more painful.
I am writing  you,
here, from miles away,
by blowingout,
single candle on a cupcake,
a letter of love.
Since, throughout the year
I'm thinking of you a lot
that it's full my brain
with billion terabytes
by jpeg of your pretty face
MP3 voice and by your 4k smile.
Oh! You look like a princes,
Yes, you do.
Hot, young and beautifull.
I swear, it's true.
It's my wishes that,
I will must be there.
by your side forever.
Like the diray your life time
or the status of your time line
whatever you will do
or wherevere you are.
I wish, I will be there.
with dark chocolate and red rose
In the subways and metroes
by holding your hand,
I wish, I will be there.
I'm falling
I'm falling
I'm falling
I'm falling
Throug your sky.
Hey pretty lady
you've got me on my knees.
Do accept all my apologies.
hold me tight,
save me inside your cries.
If there, still hate
growing for me.
I deserve to be
in prison verily.
I so dearly long
with brave heart,
waiting for your  return
as queen in my dream.
Happy birthday to you!
Harsh Sandhu Mar 2015
I am fully dressed
Covered from head
                      To toe
But persons are
Looking at me
As to get the meat
The gaze of crow !

My knowldge, My skill
My nature, My will
My choice, My aim
My hard work, My name
They don't know these
                              Things
Never wanna care about it
All want they flesh
Don't they know that
In the depth of skin
There is a heart
Of which feelings
And emotions are the parts !!

Firstly
Please do one thing
Stop my heart first
I can't face with my person
                                A fight
Don't want to crush myself
                       After facing it


Now do what you
          Wanted to do
You wanted to win
               Over me
Now unanimously yours
But dn't think now
It's flesh of soil
Because that's what
          You wanted
  All the time
And did crimes
But now
My soul is with me
           **safe and free
Just think it's only the '' Flesh Of Soil ''
Hira malik Jan 2019
the therapy catharsis by words
is so bleak, insignificant
A temporary relief
for the awakening will bring you the same pain again
with more force and flee!

where do exist the unlimited endlessness?

sometimes i feel, this word is weary,
the sensitivity is so manipulating
and contradictory to all the reasons,
that it scaring-ly lure upon the fleak,
so bleakly ,
that the existance becomes unquestionable!!
With overdue hunger, she decides to eat and drink until she is satisfied. After eating he flees her house hating her, with the presentiment of being able to see Antoinette's swan. He goes out in search of her after her adored beautiful maiden. Trying to hide her impatience, he goes to the Municipal Theater without being able to find her. And there he goes to many places, that after visiting them, when he was walking down the main street when he was window-shopping, he gets distracted and finds a childhood friend, Fernando. He greets him and expresses surprise to him for a long time without seeing him --- He tells him that he was fine, that he was coming for a walk, after some invitations they had made him, and Ludwig asks him what he was working on --- To which he answers who administered the estate of his parents. And in spare time to the arts --- Fernando tells him without being surprised that he was still the same. They continued their conversation until he suddenly sees Antoinette in a gallery, crosses, and stands next to her. Then he looks at her through the glass, she turns and looks at him --- he tells her for so long without seeing him, for two weeks in that Park. He tells her, she was right, and her memory has not deceived her, I am Ludwig Garroch, and I want to invite her to someplace, where she wants you. She accepts and they go to a restaurant there. This one was very old, a very sad mandolin music could be heard in the distance.

Antonieta ...: How good I feel! It doesn't happen sometimes that you want to enjoy moments like these more often.

Ludwig ...: Of course, but now I beg you to tell me about his debut in San Lorenzo.

Antonieta ...: Logical, but the way I feel now makes me want only this freshness, like that curtain that is moved by that breeze, that's how I want to feel.

Ludwig ...: The truth is that I feel the same, so I leave the reason for the conversation to him.

Antonieta ...: First, I want you to know that I remembered you a lot. It was so surprising that day in that place. Ludwig ...: Yes the Prehistoric.

Antonieta ...: How, why does he call it that ...?

Ludwig ...: Well I approached you, civilly next to the hot spring, as if it were something of strong attraction. I could also smell her feminine charm, which in my opinion made me feel that way since we were in the immensity of that forest, which is reminiscent of the beginning of the world, as boisterous and wild as the park that burned in sulfurous heat. There is nothing I can do but get into this hidden piece of country.

Antonieta ...: It actually looks very old and wild like that. In any case, I find it very beautiful, although only that day I could enjoy it. Before I only saw from the outside, I didn't go in, the truth is that it scared me.

Ludwig ...: Now that we talk, I am more pleased to hear it.
Antonieta ...: I also think like this, that is to say, I feel very comfortable, Oh another thing! It is time for you to treat me as Antonieta and nothing else.

Ludwig ...: As you wish, it will be more comforting for me to be able to trust more in you and in the friendship you have given me.
Antonieta ...: It's an event, so let's toast to this.

They drank all the wine that in successive times guided him through the luxury of good feeling, good and frank dialogue. That wine was an elixir, it was the magical carrier of love. At the end of the toast, they got up. He canceled the due and they left. As they walked down the street they spoke with enthusiasm. He tells her if he prefers that he take her to her house or if she wants to go alone. She tells him that it was okay for him to accompany her. That way Mom won't worry about seeing her arrive alone at this time. Ludwig tells her how happy she was of her and that he wanted to see her again. She answers him that yes, that there is no need to worry so much and that she did not want to be complacent, but she had to be more optimistic --- Of course, she did not know that he was losing her balance, that she could hardly imagine her. They arranged to meet the next day, and Ludwig gave him her address ...: Sea Horse 966 East. They arrived at Antoinette's house and set a time for seven p.m. -Back in the favorite of his famous places of pleasure, her house, this night is more hospitable than ever, even a new species of flower was born in her homeland visiting him. Looking at the starry sky with its esoteric entities, with its dazzling features, she imagines being in the Ionosphere and looking down at the beloved Earth still with the chill of the ice of space on her back.

This is how he thinks how he is going to miss the lost imagination far from his reach. But before going to sleep, she remembers his close friends who made her remember affection and concern. She could barely reach her hand up to her face and cross herself. They already came to declare the omnipotent dream that he would accept it without quarrel, he would only obey something inescapable.

The Sleeping Voices ...: “You sleep like the one who has slept, who has not been insomniac, we will cover your ashamed conscience and we will give the living of immortal affairs.

Today more than ever we have reclaimed your soul to the place of consecration, where the detachment of Deist energy is stamped on the memory. Thus pure and concentrated the Faith will be granted to you, that if you want to call it from God, thus it will be in the first category and we will only be confined to assist you ... ”As it is proven, the wise man can think and act like a fool, but the sleeping voices They are from spiritual and intellectual pride, so you will omit vague thoughts. On our day, at the end of February, he has awakened in a hurry to how much can be done, leaving leisure inactive, (They retire) Ludwig wants to eat something and Sara comes in saying ... What do you mean ...? --- Ludwig says you ... What a surprise ...!

Sara ...: I've been waiting for you all these days, why haven't you gone to see me ...?, It seems that you've fallen in love again.

Ludwig ..: Look, I was going the other day but I don't know what happened, I was going to go anyway.

Sara ...: Ungrateful, why don't you get up ... !, I invite you to lunch, today I prepared fish especially for you, what do you think ...?

Ludwig ...: Very good Sarita! I'll take a bath and we'll go.

Sara ...: I see that you have fixed your redoubt, it already seems more home.

Ludwig ...: It was time, don't you think? Well to the water. He jumped into the pool, bathed, and dried himself in the sun. They drank orange juice from his trees and went to Sara's house. On the way, they talked about Debra, about her if she had written to him and he said no, that she would not return to the Green City. He tells her that fate kept treating him like a hungry lion's prey, but that he was glad that he was away from romanticism. Help is unconditionally offered by embracing each other's postures.

Sara ...: My poor Ludwig is human to err, and since we live surrounded by them, we will continue to suffer injustice.

Ludwig ...: I no longer want to feel my legs so heavy, and although oblivion is rebellious with me, I will take any element and make a message for everyone. That I do not go with resentment or hatred of any religious creed, I will only react as that I have learned from humans. And so, if I am to cry for Debra when she is gone, I will remember how I loved her and I will not see the vain smile full of hypocrisy, I will only squeeze her in my arms arrogant of expression and I will wish her eternal good. They got to Sara's house, had lunch, and then she left. She later went to Fernando's house, in the sea house. She remembered that she left him alone that day when she found Antonieta, she was sorry a lot but the good thing is that she was going to see him again. During the journey, she remembered her childhood time with hers, her friend, or hers, Fernando de Ella. He leaves his City, which had him tied to feeling, to nostalgia, to the rebirth of the new Sun that made him happy and renew his concerns. He only walked along the white road, and to the stream that in summer he does not feel running, and now he was thin and determined by his estuary. The flowers that always vitalized him now undressed him without being able to escape the eclipse that warmed him and invaded him with complacency. The sea was the great mirror resource of the sun, and the scene of the flimsy ground with the enigma of the abyss, with the biceps of the fisherman that empties his entrails and gives the overvaluation of the respect he deserves.
Upon arriving at Fernando's house, he knocks on the door and Dn opens it. Andrés, the father.

Ludwig ..: Good evening, I'm looking for Fernando.

Mr. Andrew  ...: Good morning, he went to the city to fix the matter of his passage, but he said that he would return around six o'clock. Do you want me to leave you a message?

Luis ...: Yes please, I'll wait for you on the shore of the beach, until sunset. Ah, tell him to carry the flute!

Mr. Andrew ...: Very well, I tell you. Are you by any chance the son of Gerardo Garroch ...? Ludwig answered in the affirmative, telling him that two years ago he had died. Dn. Andrés gives him his condolences, deeply regretting his person. They say goodbye and turn their backs as if wanting to resume the conversation.

When moving away from that beach house, Dn. Andrés made a sign to him, waving his hand, to which Ludwig answered with his arm raised. Very close to the shores that acclaimed him, he felt anticipating the summer that would renew him. He stretches his dorsal ulna and asks the neighboring giant ... Have I ever been angry with you, the salt giant and I hope it continues to be so? I am a nomad who is not calm ...! He stands and runs across the water ford looking at his shadow, breathing with pleasure and effort. So they continue with great pleasure, to see themselves healthy and that he is healthy. He prepares and exercises his heart in a long race. After running inside he is shaken by inspiration.
Weirdly  Emigrate  Chapter  VI  Part I
Alicia Strong Sep 2011
You asked me **one time,
why I liked the stars so much,
and I didn't really have an answer for you.
But now I do.
I like the stars because,
we're really seeing the past,
and it seems to me that I liked my past
more than I'm going to like my future.
Mahdi Dn Mar 2015
Some just draw air in
While some just had their exhale.
Ruins are rebuilt afterwards on a larger scale.
Someone’s dreaming alongside the other one’s nightmare
Just as equations that keep the world structure
Coherent, chromatic, in order by nature;
The source of our presence, here
The core of life on earth

Life is now out of balance,
The order is now rendered differently.
Thriving of man to dominate
The mother-earth, and his blood brothers.
Treacherous man – pinning on God,
All the crimes against nature and his own kind
This is the dawn of a new era
For this world that is filled with dogma

Uncertainty is ruling the minds of men
State of distrust – Political polarity
Only TWO ways they have
By choosing a side, they have to turn their backs
On their own brothers, fighting for a made up act.
Scent of ambiguity is all around the globe
Truth and lie – two sides of a coin

Disunited, and force-fed with these lies
Some realize; some still live these lies.

“Through the history, the earth has never been a witness to such disastrous conditions. Even the dark ages, holy wars, and world wars were not as malignant as present times.”

Evil is the man, bringer of darkness
Scapegoat is Satan
Wicked, yet divine…

-Mahdi "Monstrosity" Dn.
Mahdi Dn Oct 2014
Through the forest of passion
Watching man's heartfelt nature
Peace, passion, fear and pain
In concert within one frame

Nurturing all, with peace and warmth
Growing along, in peace at war.

Afraid to unleash all that's locked-up inside
Mists of passion - enshrouding - limited sight.
Love enroots the longing within the heart
And the mind is ceased and gone

Pain feeds on fear of loss
Dovish flower withers, thus...

Earth shakes,
Sun's darkened,
Forest is filled with despair.
Green turns red,
And then grey
Afire - forest decayed.
Laid in ashes,
Staring at the face of the night,
Fragments of hope, spread across her face,
Remarking my fall from grace.

Through the forest of passion
Life remains sans ambition
Peace, passion, fear, and pain
Disharmonic and mundane.


Written by: Mahdi "Monstrosity" Dn.
This is the lyrics of the song "The Four Seasons of Man" by Blood Decant.
Hello Daisies Aug 2019
AAHHHHHHH
ahhhH
AHH
AH
A
PIECE OF ME IS BITING
AND ITS CRYING INTO MY FLESH
I CANT STOP BEATING MYSELF INTO DEATH

MAKE IT STOP YOU ******* ****
I WANT THE NEEDLES TO STOP PIERCING
I WANT MY GUMS TO STOP BLEEDING
BREATHE DEEPER AND DEEPER
I WANT SOMEONE INSIDE ME
FEEL MY PAIN FOR A CHANGE
WHILE I TAKE YOUR WHORISH PLEASURE

IM SEARCHING FOR TREASURE
ITS BLOOD AND GUTS ANS MEN
TALL DARK DRUGGED UP
GIVE ME A HIGH
I'VE BEEN TOO LOW IN LIFE

IM DISGUSTING
IM MUTANT
IM GRUESOME
TAKE MY ARMS AND BREAK THEM
TAKE MY NECK AND CRACK ME OPEN

**** MY INSIDES
IM ****** UP
MY HOLES ARE BURNT
MY HEART IS GONE
SPIDERS CRAWL UPON ME
I SCREAM AND SEEK SANITY

H E L P
H E L P
H E L
H E
H E HURT ME UNTIL I DIED
I DON'T REMEMEBR BEING BORN
I ONLY KNOW DEATH
AND THE TASTE OF YOUR BREATH

ASHXHXJ[DJDNKDJDM_FN!DN]
Djsksnsn
DksoJSJSNSNS
SKSKSKS
SJ­SISOI
AISSK
Aisji
Fhi
Di
I break down and break down
Into meaningless nonsene.
I pray that one day it'll calm down
And form meaning behind the scrambled
Maybe even the smallest amount of peace
All I can say is please
Oh God please
Not doing well
Dorothy Quinn Feb 2014
Someone told me
you can't write (p)oetry ab(o)ut things
you don't want to romanticiz(e).

So for a long (t)ime
(because of w(r)ong people like (y)ou)
I d(i)dn't write drunk,
becau(s)e the(n) I c(o)uldn't
guard my feelings.

But now I'm drunk as hell
and no(t)hing in my life
is close to romantic
and I don't have to explain to you
why (b)oats, oc(e)ans, and words
are the only things
that e(a)se my open wo(u)nds.

I don'(t) have to tell you why
I don't scream or cry or f(i)ght
when I think about how many of my (f)riends
killed themselves.
I write instead,
and it's not romantic.

I am not
in love
with words.

I am
in love
with them
and they're no longer here,
breathing, holding my hand,
and singing me songs about rivers
and how we'll always find each other.

But we won't,
because there's not a
single f(u)cking romantic thing
about how I'll never hold their hands
again.

So I drink,
and I write,
and I do not (l)isten
to people like you.
How much fear would he come to stagnate his work ...?, The one that every suitable being knows how to develop and take care of. After he left the pulpit, he did not stop receiving more than the custom of the faithful not to see them changed, nor to see them migrate from his essence, like that of Ludwig and his involution of a well-structured animal.

Ludwig ...: Now I don't see my hands and my feet in good condition, and that this makes me never pretended, the non-biological, what is neither born nor dies. Of course, the changes are periodic and I will let the course continue normally, "Yesterday I was born and tomorrow I will be reborn ..."

My parents did not treasure the things that I needed, they only detracted from the possibility of providing the components and ingredients of the work they brought, "Myself". They were silent until the moment of his death, and I was frozen in the coldest winter that could be borne. Back at his house, he is led by the curiosity of the stone of that night with Antonieta. During the day everything was different, he did not take long to find her until he saw her up close. By having her close to her, he spared no efforts to make something of her, which he knew was not of common origin, but that she carried something magical.

Ludwig ...: Everything has been framed in a light or a halo, and behind these two things is the precursor fire of everything created. He has purified and burned in the atonement and inquisition, and he has created wonder in the eyes just as he did to me ...

... Everything attracts us, everything wants to convey to us what the neighboring elements of the hidden material orb have to experience. Every glimpse of the mountains or the hills, the question of our self is becoming present, that no matter how harmonious it may see in this case, the stone in balance is sought ..., and it will always be one step away from harmony, discord to find the real and accurate science of reason. I can already be proud of the activity that I have chosen, that if I have to meditate deeply and for the eyes of another it is idleness, without contributing anything to the world. It will be something as fleeting and unheard of as the same events over time, they end up ending up, sinking into the mud. For this time, he continued to see the stone, until the works have to have an author, the one that still remained anonymous, which would only change when the balance is favorable. Later, after having been on his property for a long time, he returns to his house and fixes his room somewhat. He orders pictures, books, in short, puts a general order. After ordering, he prepares his things to travel to the South of his Paradise; to the fields and coastal cliffs, to the mosses and the wild pastures with the icy gale blowing through. He alone would go for a few days since he would not miss his date with Antonieta. Near dusk, he left for his destination. The estate of an old friend of his father's awaited him. The trip was a bit hasty, but his anxieties were greater, due to that night that he wandered through the rain.

It has been a long time since I was going to see them, rather than at a Christmas party in 1954. Ludwig ...: Now I can see the horizon and the huge house with its windmills ... I hope they are ...?As he approached he saw Dn. Adolfo through the window, as well as other people who accompanied him, who he assumed, were from his family. Eight years had passed since the last time he was with them. After crossing the bridge, he makes up his mind to beat. Opening the owner of the house, recognizing him immediately.

Adoph ...: My dear Ludwig, what a joy to see you!
Ludwig ...: Thank you very much, me too.

He enters, he greets Adolfo's wife, Mrs. Isabel, then Martina, reminding him of that time they flew in a plane, and Ludwig almost died of vertigo. Isabel serves him some salmon. Adolfo questions him about the famous orchard that he inherited from her father. Ludwig answers him saying that he will die there.

Adolph ...: You have inherited valuable things from your family. Among them is the creative gift and simplicity, with the strength that you impress on everything.

I always remember them, your father from that time we enlisted in the R.A.F., to go to the War Front, since that time we became very close. I remember that in hostilities, Russia joined Germany, initiating fratricide. Your father and I passed the last checks and they commissioned us. On that day Russia defected from Germany.

Ludwig ...: Until his last days, he talked to me about those experiences. I think it turned out to be something of great relevance, especially the help from brother to brother, so as not to feel alone and exterminated. Adolfo tells him to put aside the past a bit, Martina and Aurora think the same. They keep covering until long after midnight. It was two in the morning and the conversation was still entertaining, the women were gone and they had gone to sleep. Ludwig tells Adolfo that they had been talking for two hours and also that they lived only four hours away, and they saw so little of each other --- Adolfo tells him that in the year 51 they had gone to Europe for a year. Also at the end of that year, my daughters finished their studies, coming to me alone with Isabel. After three years, they returned. For now, we will not move from this place, although I had been offered to work in the UN, to go to the conflict in Korea. But fortunately here in Chile I settled and everything came to nothing. Well, Ludwig Germano, I'll show you your room and I'll invite you tomorrow to fly to the Islet to look for some tourists. Now I'll show you your piece and don't forget to be ready at seven.

During the night, lying down, he thought that the changes that took him from place to place made him uneasy and exhausted. Where he was now was what he needed. Exclaim, how peaceful and appetizing ...! At bedtime one of his voices spoke to her ...: “Life is an instrument that must be cared for. If you abuse it, you will no longer have it. It is also mutable, if you give it constructive things, you will get the best and if you don't, the darkness will haunt you. At dawn, they had breakfast and went to the airfield, which was about six hundred meters from the house. When he arrived he saw that the hangar was very large, the plane was green, and it seemed to float in the air.
Adolfo ...: I'll check it and start the engine. Everything was going, the plane was ready, the day helped as it was sunny.

As they took off, they walked around the house, Ludwig was excited, he could barely respond to the greetings of Martina and Aurora. They passed something low for them to see. It was a quarter of an hour to the islet, they landed and proceeded to board the passengers. They were scientists who studied Habitat. In fact, on this islet that is populated, nobody lives on it. It was more difficult to take off since the materials were very complicated and delicate.

Adolph ...: I almost forgot, you have to change the batteries in the headlight. Bring them, they're in the back. They both went to install it, at the other end of a cliff, changed it, and left.

Ludwig ...: This is lonely, there are extraordinary things here, it looks like a huge plant raft. If she saw it Antoinette she would be impressed.

From here you can see the sky drawn, the storm clouds interspersed by the wind, and some timid flashes that try to cross the huge air masses, nearby to a day that could discharge the seas of waters, dropping them to the adjacent environment. Water on water, water on the wind, water on land, water on my hands ...- Also disturbing, the sea hits the cliffs of Adolfo's property. Some waves rush in with a harmonious ripple, hitting the edges until they rise several meters above the sea, only to fall slowly from where they were pushed. The fishing birds worked incessantly, carrying food to their young, and at the same time training them to become independent. This is how this wonderful medium is, that at the entrance of this scene, and the idylls with the immobile rocks give experiences to the Fauna. There is no day that fills us more with life-giving communion, our own imprints on all that is done, on what is reflective, on the immortality of what has just been blessed or cursed with parasite errors. Everything is for us who exist forever eternal and lonely ... "What embraces and governs us is very wise, it induces us to balance, to the same nascent endogenous attitude of infinite knowledge, the Empyrean or Nature. This Animal kingdom ruled by men is nothing more than all species in an unstoppable evolution, which forces us to submit in this twentieth century. A world that is increasingly removed from all-wise and humble spiritual vibrations, dominating at the same time with an insatiable appetite, which should give us governance, to be more dedicated to cultivating the barren being for the good. At that moment that he had just reflected, Adolfo called him surprised, it was time to leave the class. On the flight, silence reigned for minutes, until Adolfo spoke.

Adolph ...: It seems that you liked the islet, I saw you very thoughtful.
Ludwig ...: It is beautiful, and for anyone it is very stimulating.
Adolph ...: You're right, I've lived it.
Ludwig ...: I don't feel scared anymore, I think I'm going to get used to flying.

They landed and unloaded all the boxes they were carrying and this time they did not put the plane into the hangar. They leave walking after saying goodbye to the passengers until they reach the house and their daughters receive them.

Martina ...: Tell me, did you like the islet? It's nice, right ...!
Ludwig ...: Yes I loved it.
Aurora ...: Martina, Ludwig, let's go through.
Ludwig ...: What ...?
Adolfo ...: It's a surprise, see you.
Martina ...: Come ... join us!

Ludwig did not understand the invitation, but as he approached the aerodrome a hundred meters, on the edge of the cliff, there were some ropes hanging, and below a circular net about fifty meters more or less deep, each time the wind grew stronger and bigger. Martina takes a rope and begins to sway, it seemed that the wind was cooperating too much since everything pretended to be weightless in space. Martina was like this, and in a moment of incredible acrobatics, she fell off the hook, falling and circling the net several times. From where Ludwig was, she could see the plane as if it were confused with the jumping pasture, she saw that its wheels were jumping as if the wind wanted to carry it away. Everything belonged to the aeolian promontory, the branches and the trees, everything was beautifully dominated by it. Aurora and Martina looked like little girls, they played with the ropes with great skill. Martina wore her movements, her brown hair and white skin made her overcome all traits. Martina was the center of the acrobatic game, Aurora dominated the game, but not like her sister. There was a time when the risk they took with the inordinateness of time was too much. Ludwig could not contain her joy, he could not ignore the wonderful spectacle of them, the immense energy delivered by them, towards a liberation above all dimensions.

Martina ...: Come on Ludwig ..., try it, you'll like it!

She approached Ludwig and taught him something that she had never learned so fast, she took a rope which she did not stop staring into space until she swayed high and long on the swing.Her tightly clamped hands didn't want to let go or give up, but she grew fatigued. He had to look towards the network that would receive him, and beyond the network, the rocks could be seen. He finally could control the sway and let go, the highest fifty meters of his life, he never believed that such a sensation would bathe him in gushing adrenaline. Then between networks, he relaxed and listened to the advice of his guides. Martina congratulated him, marking him as a hero, told him to stay still and that she was going to move him with a string. Ludwig sighed deeply. Martina, aided by Aurora, pulled Ludwig down, quieting the echoes of him. After a while, he received a big hug from his guides.

Martina ...: I'm very happy, all this has been very exciting, even more so with you.
Ludwig ...: For me, it has been to rise to precious freedom, to an excellent game.
Aurora ...: You really did well, it was an act of great courage. You're the third person to do it, you actually ******* away.
Ludwig ...: Thanks to you that I did it, by motivating myself. But I confess that at one point I thought I was not able to do it, having to use all my strength.

Martina ...: It's time to eat, so let's see what mom made. Come on Aurora, and you Ludwig, if you're late, you'll wash the dishes. Wit and charm made them the happiest beings, they ran like hunted gazelles. Upon reaching the beloved place.

Mrs. Isabel receives them, and Adolfo was smoking a pipe. They are going to dinner, Ludwig says; The decadent rays inspire us with what is healthy, what is meant within me is manifested by the distributed sun. Martina says that was fine, that it was the most attractive when they think like that. To which Ludwig said that he was only meditating out loud. Doña Isabel found it super good for them to do those things. Ludwig expresses his gratitude to them by making them feel like his close relatives. They tell him it was the least they would do for him. And Aurora tells him that of course, there would be more entertainment waiting for him on the ropes. After they spoke, they ate prawns piecemeal with delicious well-seasoned watercress, then beans with sauce. To drink a lot of wine and dessert threads in syrup.

Adolph ...: The rope game seemed real daring. Note that we used it as training, in addition to measuring your audacity it fortifies you enormously. With your father we used to practice hours and hours, we even competed. Ludwig replied that it was just by looking at the trophies on the cabinet, and Adolfo told him that some he had won with Hans; his father.

Isabel ...: So Ludwig, is the exemplary model of his father, and in good honor.
Ludwig tells him not to praise him so much. As the night progresses, they decide to go to sleep. But Adolfo asks Martina to go and find the pantry early, which was well received by them.

Ludwig ...: Well then I'll reserve my ticket.
Martina ...: That you're leaving today!
Ludwig ...: No, tomorrow.
Martina ...: Ah ..., you mean ...? !

Isabel tells Aurora to pick up her silverware. Then Ludwig went to sit on the couch and from there he looked at the patch of desolate land. Every pause he made to digest the wine explored the even relief. Chaos still continues, the antithesis of the pestilential that is only what the rest laugh at. After a while, Martina comes over and tells him what is going on in that head, and he says ... Nothing! Then she thinks of accompanying me to town, to which he says anyway.Ludwig intimately thought about the wide spectrum of changes, he can now see the one who was long invisible. The one that takes you along elongated empirical routes, fraternalism, or perhaps what is linked to spontaneity.
Weirdly Emigrate Chapter  VII  Part I
Deepak shodhan Feb 2017
Stay way ..
I dnt wan to hurt u
stay way
I dn want to irritate u
so stay away
Go to the place where I
can't find you
Go to the place where I
cann't hear u
Let my love fades alone
Let my life ends alone
Do what u want to do
I never stop your move
Keep smiling like a flower
be happi foreveR
Stay way
I dnt want to hurt you
So stay way </3

ds
gunika bhayana Feb 2015
Far away from the world
Their is a better afterlife
Sometyms i wonder
wht wud lyf hv been over der
A true state of being happy
Ignoring all the doubts n the pressures
it's being loved by whom u luv
A peaceful life
Attaining sch a life
Wud be a blessed one
With a new beginning
And new people
No minset, no conclusions
Follow what ur heart says
i dreamt of such a life
n m still dreaming of it
Bcz the reality is far away from it
N it cud never be near to this dream
What if i want it to be
People dn't
A carefree world is better than a one which kills u everyday
I really wish it cud be like i want it
gunika bhayana Feb 2015
I want to walk alone in peace
I may be alone but happy
I may be weak but still successful
I m scared of gettng more fake ppl
Yes i m..
The reason may be the ppl i hv around me
I can guarantee evryone is the same
But i m not strong enuf to take it anymore
Want to run away
But can't
Want to sit back n sought out the things
But can't
Ppl say there is always a way out
But here it's all closed
If it's all about being fake
Y can't i do it?
May be i can but m scared
U give ur lyf to someone n the person is bzy in his own life
How wonderful it is
u dn't even do a bit for anythng
N u expect a lot
The distance **** n we make it more often wide
But the mistake can never be from one side
It's all how we handle it
Sneha shenoy Oct 2017
When the uthopic skies were blue,
& the proud tall green grass grew.
The joy was sweeter than honey due,
My Lil heart hopped like a kangaroo,
Thank god you came to my rescue.
The weather was dull, filled with hew,
grass afflicted with downy mildew,
The new yew turned into old yew..
But why? Senescence overthrew.
life is not always an equation equal to,
One plus one makes two .
Happy journey! On the road i.e new
I'll travel Myn,travelled by a very few.
Dn't worry till my journey on bamboo,
Weather or not the sky is blue,
When u turn Ill always be with you.
In the 1st lines it says uthopic skies Wch means skies which were reflection of heaven the grass grew nicely majestically raised their heads n stood up tis was very pleasant to watch.. it is tym when all plants grow flowers bloom( spring).. this atmosphere was very romantic then her heart jumped like a kangaroo means she started falling in love with the nature apparently the man... she says thank god ..he came to my rescue Wch means he came into her life as her lover making her feal safe in his arms and not abandoning her unstable( loving)heart.            

now the other tym(autumn) we can see that nature is not as pleasant as b4.. Weather is nt condusive its dull( love was very dull)filled with hew( her love was covered with mist making it unclear  ).the tall majestic grass was affected by downy mildew( sign of tragedy)..the new yew tree had grown old yew tree( the new sensation in his life that is his love had turned I to old one cuz he had found a new one).. Then she questions herself y? Then she understands that it's because of senescence( senescence of nature senescence of her love)..everything ages ( so does love in her case)..the living things 1ce which is  young it has to grow old and finally perish.(finally his love for her was about to perish).

We always say 1+ 1= 2(1person falls in love with the other then they both are together) mathematically but life is not always that equation ( because not always 2 ppl fall in love and stay together till the end)..

She says happy journey( because she is caring) because he has decided to go on another new road(new girl)..

Ill have to walk my journey all alone .Though This kind of strange journey travelled by very few ( supporting love even after he betrayed her) im left with no choice...

Don't worry when u turn back and seek my help or support,wether or NT skies are blue( where u love me or not) till my journey on bamboo( till I'm being carried on bamboo after my death ) I'll always be an support for u

On a superficial note she says that nature is beautiful in beginning bcz of leaves n other stuffs in spring and on contrast in  autumn this beauty is lost she says senescence is the reason

But deep inside she compares the mortality of her love jst like natures beauty Wch fad3s at tyms
Ashly Kocher Dec 2018
Y wr brn wth prps
Whts yr prps
Whts yr rsn
Wht hv y dn
Why r y hr
Vry thng hppns fr rsn
Yr prps, yr lf
Yr hps, yr drms
B hppy, b yrslf
Kurtlopez May 2023
Alam mo ba kung bakit sa Gabi hindi Ka makatulog kaagad?

Maliban sa Insomnia
Naranasan mo din ba?

Ako kasi madalas


Ung ..


Hihiga ka, babangon, iinom ng tubig at hihiga na naman ulit. Pag Higa mo mamaya makakaramdam ka na naiihi ka, pagkatapos ipipikit mo mata mo at didilat kana naman bubuksan ang cellphone para lang sumakit ang mata para makatulog. Pero kahit puyat na puyat ka na bigla ka na namang mapaisip at itatanong sa sarili.  

Okay Lang ba ako?
Magiging masaya pa ba ako?
May mali ba sa sarili ko?

Nakapikit na nga mga mata mo pero dilat at gumagalaw parin ang utak mo. Bigla kanalang malulungkot. Bigla kanalang iiyak, bigla ka nalang manghihina.

Kailan ka makakatulog?

Makakatulog ka Lang pagkatapos **** umiyak dahil sa pagod ng utak at puso mo. Sa madaling salita..
Kapag matagal matulog ang Tao ibig sabihin malalim ang lungkot Niya.  

Kaya pag may kilala kang tao na puspusang nag oonline kahit gabi na o umiiyak gabi-gabi wag **** tawanan kasi hindi mo alam kong anong nararamdaman o pakiramdam nila.
( At kung naranasan mo ito ibig sabihin napakalungkot mo dn tao kagaya ko )
I WANTED TO OVER THIS
BUT
WHEN U AGREED

WHY AM I SAD?


I SAID, I DN WANT TO HAVE DINNER WITH YOU
BUT
WHEN YOUR CHAIR IS EMPTY

WHY AM I SAD?


I SAID, I DON'T LOVE YOU
AND U RESPECTED MY DESICION

THEN WHY, WHY AM I SAD??
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
/enlgish: a playground... mind you... who wouldn't want to see so much more of boris brejcha sampling old disney movies? the ori-, the original thought... ah! when does the mea culpa mantra elevate itself from succumbing to a solipsism? mea culpa? i thought that was autistic, solipsistic *******... kicking the can down the road sort of, *******... ever wonder why the original disney cartoons were so, macabre? apparently in england it's all ******* squiggly clean... king Xerxes started to whip the Aegean Sea (again): Helen! come back! come back! i never liked the credo, nor the mea culpa mantra... it appeared, that no one existed, who could be blamed, and i was bound to resort to, blaming myself, masochistically... enter logic: only i exist, no one else exists! that's what the mea culpa mantra equated itself to... early black & white Disney... cutting edge... the guillotine cartoons... hello! autistic christian world! mea culpa my ***... the ******* donkey could vouch: and i speeded up, because the holy prophet whipped me into a gallop! mea culpa... mea culpa... my own fault... ergo, no one else exists!

this will have to be the funniest petition
ever...
    for one, it's impossible,
but secondary to that impossible
is the reaction to the blatant introduction
of "hieroglyphics" into
a modern language...
      that's ******* troubling,
    ancient egypt is staging a resugrence
within english, among other languages...
i can't let that happen...
   what with emoticons
     acronyms and emoji whatever
the ******* want to call them?
             that's hieroglyphic spreschen,
hot air balloons, zombie heads,
   voids and more voids, inside one giant
void of: the black hole explains everything...
yeah! it does... ever play the PS1 tomb raider?
ever become fascinated about
those two dimensional ferns and bushes
in a three dimensional space?
            rotating like a tasmanian devil?
that's a black hole...
            a two dimensional object in a three
dimensional space...
     who says i'm wrong? who says i'm right?
you have empirical proof to say i'm wrong?
anyway, this will be almost impossible,
fair game for introducing the german
   diacritical distinction into english,
the es-und-zed (ß), when there's ambiguity
concerning the spelling of (variance)
  systematisation     vs.          systematize
hey presto!                
                                       ß,
    zaire                                               sire.
now that's the easy part, the difficult bit?
  no one spotted the lack of diacritical necessity
with regards to the letter R.
                 none!
you can have the squiggly on the N in spanish
as in a tilde: Ñ....
                    invoking a juggling act of
                          ι + . . . = ñ        (j)
                    **** me, a clown juggling...
but exposing a trill on the R, when a language
has devolved from applying it,
other than harking phlegm while smoking
in paris, or making vampire movies?
  the tilde isn't even near the trill representation...
i had to go to russia to think something
up, to fill the vacuum... w'eh hey! found it!
      яobot,
                 yes yes, i know, the russians
state я as ya... whatever...
      to me, the lack of diacritical application
to the R has this solution...
      it's not an R with dentistry's anaesthetic
so you slobber... it's harsh, poignant,
self-evident... let's call this:
     reinventing the wheel, well, it's not
so much rolling, as rattle-snake against
the palatine raphe...
                 pneumatic-drill of a letter...
a complete drum-kit...
   but since there was no diacritical markings
with either liberal (theoretical)
   or orthodox (applicable) usage:
   no, i will not learn the silly linguistic
alphabet...
                 all the americans did was
insert god's right hand into the matter...
    a... wait for this...     a                        H...
that's all they did!
         my my, what a ******* improvement
from /ˈpɑːdən/  to [pahr-dn],
  if this could be art,
   i'd call one: cubism,
                     and the other post-cubism...

but english is the current version
of the wild west...
      diacritical markers can come in...
"reign" from above,
   and sieve from down below...
it's a barren land,
compared to the already existing
european languages...
            e.g.?
                         łąka - field
woe-k'ah...
but that's a primitive phonetic
association,
given the original canvas of
the used tongue,
used only two diacritical markers...
hovering, like u.f.o.s
above            ι        and        ȷ....
     you want the dead hydra,
don't you?
        why not... embark upon
the aesthetic of...
   citing:             ȷump!
                rather than jump...
or...                        ιdea!
                      ­         rather than idea?
all ιt takes ιs allowιng the people
to guιllotιne two heads, no?
          look! hey presto!
                an alιgnment!
   because why wouldn't you?
there's no caron above an S...
            to hide an H... in šeep...
          there's no caron above a C
to also hide an H... in čatter...
so... why bother with the poιntless
     twιn "halo" hoverιng above
            ιdea and ȷustιfιed resonance?
two dots...
                   .                     .
                   ι                     ȷ
                       you don't need them!
curves rather than curses:
     look at that!
                                                    ȷ
     ­                                            ι
almost makes a... U! yew yew?
                    no... upsιlon: up-sιgh-alone...

hell, people wanted a hyper-"ιnflated"
lιterate world, "order"...
      graffιtι dιdn't do ιt for me...
nor dιd the meme culture...
                       ιt was only a two headed
hydra to begιn wιth...
                              hardly a
   ghídorah (well yeah, sιnce the H
ιs sιlent, "hιdden", but ιn plaιn sιght...
there has to be an acute attaché to the ιota,
and yes, that H at the end?
ιt's a vowel-catcher... equιvalent of a,
sιgh)...
                                 you try intruducing
diacritical marks into english,
things become, "sketchy"...
  e.g. when = łen...
                            woman = łuman...
              the tetragrammaton ȷust
keeps probιng...
          hell... let's go as far as:
sz  (ш)                     szcz (щ)
   sh  (ш)                shch (щ)

e.g.?
                     щэкa - a dog, barks...
    щыптa - pinch - of... сoли
                                                    (salt)..­.

        шэпт ( szept /                whisper)...

in all honesty?
   english is the ugliest language in known
history, when diacritical markers
are applied,
and the language is translated from
a pedagogical convention of spelling,
its rubric...
   of: the eyes see what the ears
will hear, but cannot converse with...

introducing a diacritical critique
to the english language?
            it's ugly... it's like frankenstein's
monster actually found himself
a girlfriend after all...
   i haven't heard of the phenomenon
of dyslexia outside of the english
language,
perhaps i might have found it in fwench...
i doubt i would find it as
"pop" in deutsche...
    given... the saxons were behind...
keeping chemical names
in strict accordance to the usual:
complex compound noun structure
of modern german...

eh... norman davies, the historian,
could have claimed poland
was god's "playground"...
    to me?
                the english language is
a "playground" worthily ripe,
                                      for, plucking.

— The End —