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"eaters" poems
Sometimes I wake up to spatial tension and awkward sting, where there are fractions of unwanted proteins and dripping enzymes. Sometimes I wake up to obsidian corpuscles of unknown origin and encounters with sentiment-shakers, dream-eaters, and rafter-rattlers. Sometimes it is as simple as dripping beige, intangible amber, and cold, cold, blue. Sometimes I wake up to nothing, too.
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
Lotus.
city full of lotus eaters sleeping in peaceful apathy; a life with no reality dancing in the wind with a slowly fading mind drowning in the bliss sunlight beating down creating dark shadows on the ground they move all around city full of silence whispers unheard in the distance surviving by ignorance they eat their lotus flowers drifting hour by hour nothing but a blank stare is anything even there
0
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
Lotus Eaters
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and red, they float their faces on the face of the sky. Balloon face eaters sit by hundreds reading the eat cards, asking, "What shall we eat?"-and the waiters, "Have you ordered?" they are sixty ballon faces sifting white over the tuxedoes. Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason contractors, smartalecks discussing "educated ********* here they put ***** into their balloon faces. Here sit the heavy balloon face women lifting crimson lobsters into their crimson faces, lobsters out of Sargossa sea bottoms. Here sits a man cross-examining a woman, "Where were you last night? What do you do with all your money? Who's buying your shoes now, anyhow?" So they sit eating whitefish, two balloon faces swept on God's night wind. And all the time the balloon spots on the wires, a little mile of festoons, they play their own silence play of film yellow and film gold, bubble blue and bubble red. The wind crosses the town, the wind from the west side comes to the banks of marigolds boxed in the Marigold Gardens. Night moths fly and fix their feet in the leaves and eat and are seen by the eaters. The jazz outfit sweats and the drums and the saxophones reach for the ears of the eaters. The chorus brought from Broadway works at the fun and the slouch of their shoulders, the kick of their ankles, reach for the eyes of the eaters. These girls from Kokomo and Peoria, these hungry girls, since they are paid-for, let us look on and listen, let us get their number. Why do I go again to the balloons on the wires, something for nothing, kin women of the half-moon, dream women? And the half-moon swinging on the wind crossing the town-these two, the half-moon and the wind-this will be about all, this will be about all. Eaters, go to it; your mazuma pays for it all; it's a knockout, a classy knockout-and payday always comes. The moths in the marigolds will do for me, the half-moon, the wishing wind and the little mile of balloon spots on wires-this will be about all, this will be about all.
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5.5k
Balloon Faces
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and red, they float their faces on the face of the sky. Balloon face eaters sit by hundreds reading the eat cards, asking, "What shall we eat?"-and the waiters, "Have you ordered?" they are sixty ballon faces sifting white over the tuxedoes. Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason contractors, smartalecks discussing "educated ********* here they put ***** into their balloon faces. Here sit the heavy balloon face women lifting crimson lobsters into their crimson faces, lobsters out of Sargossa sea bottoms. Here sits a man cross-examining a woman, "Where were you last night? What do you do with all your money? Who's buying your shoes now, anyhow?" So they sit eating whitefish, two balloon faces swept on God's night wind. And all the time the balloon spots on the wires, a little mile of festoons, they play their own silence play of film yellow and film gold, bubble blue and bubble red. The wind crosses the town, the wind from the west side comes to the banks of marigolds boxed in the Marigold Gardens. Night moths fly and fix their feet in the leaves and eat and are seen by the eaters. The jazz outfit sweats and the drums and the saxophones reach for the ears of the eaters. The chorus brought from Broadway works at the fun and the slouch of their shoulders, the kick of their ankles, reach for the eyes of the eaters. These girls from Kokomo and Peoria, these hungry girls, since they are paid-for, let us look on and listen, let us get their number. Why do I go again to the balloons on the wires, something for nothing, kin women of the half-moon, dream women? And the half-moon swinging on the wind crossing the town-these two, the half-moon and the wind-this will be about all, this will be about all. Eaters, go to it; your mazuma pays for it all; it's a knockout, a classy knockout-and payday always comes. The moths in the marigolds will do for me, the half-moon, the wishing wind and the little mile of balloon spots on wires-this will be about all, this will be about all.
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19
Dear Ronald Bilius Weasley No matter what others say I will always be your fan You are such a marvellous character Not perhaps, a perfect one But a character with flaws So real, and so beautiful That we can totally relate to it In your first year at Hogwarts You played a game of chess In such a magnificent manner That even the Russians of the Muggle world Could not have done any better In your second year at Hogwarts You faced your greatest fears With a courage and nerve That Godric Gryffindor would have been proud of For the sake of your best mates In your third year at Hogwarts You almost ruined a friendship For the sake of a rat and a broomstick But you made amends for it By standing up to a notorious murderer That too with a broken leg Again, for the sake of your best mate In your fourth year at Hogwarts Again, there was a misunderstanding That threatened to derail a strong friendship But you were there for Harry When it truly mattered There was also some ugly ****** jealousy As your teenage hormones took centrestage But at least you got an inkling That you and Hermione Were made for each other In your fifth year at Hogwarts There was a lot you had to put up with The constant bullying of the Slytherins Especially during Quidditch matches The temper tantrums of your best friend And finally, the evil Dolores Jane Umbridge Initially, due to your nerves and insecurities Your Quidditch performances went from bad to worse But then, you finally showed us The stuff you were made of Saving goals left, right and centre And to cap it all You bravely fought a dozen Death Eaters Yet again, for the sake of your best friend Finally, we come to the war Due to your never-ending insecurities And anxiety for your family Worsened by a dreadful locket That contained a part of Voldemort's soul You briefly deserted your best mates But returned when it mattered the most Even saving Harry's life in the process And then, as you destroyed that darned locket You finally conquered your fears And transitioned successfully to manhood Finally, during the Battle of Hogwarts You showed us your sensitive side A side that we had never seen before As you displayed your concern for the house-elves Precipitating your first kiss with Hermione Later on, you lost your dear brother But continued to soldier on bravely Even standing up to Voldemort himself Hence, dear Ronald Bilius Weasley No matter what others say I will always be your fan
0
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 9:28 AM UTC
I will always be your fan
Dear Ronald Bilius Weasley No matter what others say I will always be your fan You are such a marvellous character Not perhaps, a perfect one But a character with flaws So real, and so beautiful That we can totally relate to it In your first year at Hogwarts You played a game of chess In such a magnificent manner That even the Russians of the Muggle world Could not have done any better In your second year at Hogwarts You faced your greatest fears With a courage and nerve That Godric Gryffindor would have been proud of For the sake of your best mates In your third year at Hogwarts You almost ruined a friendship For the sake of a rat and a broomstick But you made amends for it By standing up to a notorious murderer That too with a broken leg Again, for the sake of your best mate In your fourth year at Hogwarts Again, there was a misunderstanding That threatened to derail a strong friendship But you were there for Harry When it truly mattered There was also some ugly ****** jealousy As your teenage hormones took centrestage But at least you got an inkling That you and Hermione Were made for each other In your fifth year at Hogwarts There was a lot you had to put up with The constant bullying of the Slytherins Especially during Quidditch matches The temper tantrums of your best friend And finally, the evil Dolores Jane Umbridge Initially, due to your nerves and insecurities Your Quidditch performances went from bad to worse But then, you finally showed us The stuff you were made of Saving goals left, right and centre And to cap it all You bravely fought a dozen Death Eaters Yet again, for the sake of your best friend Finally, we come to the war Due to your never-ending insecurities And anxiety for your family Worsened by a dreadful locket That contained a part of Voldemort's soul You briefly deserted your best mates But returned when it mattered the most Even saving Harry's life in the process And then, as you destroyed that darned locket You finally conquered your fears And transitioned successfully to manhood Finally, during the Battle of Hogwarts You showed us your sensitive side A side that we had never seen before As you displayed your concern for the house-elves Precipitating your first kiss with Hermione Later on, you lost your dear brother But continued to soldier on bravely Even standing up to Voldemort himself Hence, dear Ronald Bilius Weasley No matter what others say I will always be your fan
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71
(a satirical pop at the Illuminati) It's time to slay fatted consumer cows It's time to fumigate the Great Unwashed; To sow mutation's seeds behind the ploughs To see the dullard's dreams forever quashed. How movingly they pray not to be harmed! How doggedly they work to make a wage! How prettily they line up to be farmed, Yet, how they long to be at centre stage! The Useless Eaters eat their pizzas deep, Their double fries and creamy mayonnaise; Produce only some methane while asleep, And fodder for landfill, throughout their days. It's time for the superiors to win; Unleash the virus, let the cull begin.
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
Illuminati Party
the cosmos a web of plantary oppositions squares and triangulations curses and blessings demons, humans and gods friends and enemies each a constituent a revolving carousel of heavens and hells the macro, an umbrella of spilling stars like shattered glass in flames outer and inner stone & gas planets wandering infinitely like strays others in tight gravitational ellipses and eclipses the elements of fire air earth and water from the most subtle formless to rocks flames oceans and the air we breathe disjuncture in a   a mix-meister a gruesome churning mouth swallowing our delicate membranes and we wonder why we are in pain why we are nourished by flesh as we ourselves are consumed filled with blood and nothing and deadened by marking time all hungry shells and why we wither to dust as do suns and moons and gods themselves all of us children of monsters and corpse eaters born of magnitudes episodic collisions and  harrowing creative destructions the dead living and the living dead with eyes that flicker only on half a landscape at a time a holloween of pyramids and bones always running from wolves because we are meant to be eaten okay my darlings now lets try focused breathing, and boundless light lets try being Hindu
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
HINDU
One with sensation One with feeling One with conscience One with tears The cry soars to the horizon They are killing They are slaughtering They are breeding They are feeding They need the flesh To digest into **** The cruelty within The merciless beyond The ignorance under The indulgence upon The assassin The mass ****** Slaughter and evil A call of an animal A call of a voiceless But a denial A denial of the human race Slaughter for an idea A pitiful act Denial of existence Today I am going vegan Dripped in emotion Dripped in sensation Dripped in acknowledgement Dripped in the knowing The knowing of evolution The evolution of life Of the voiceless The voiceless with life The mercy to be shown But merciless around The acknowledgement within Today i am going vegan Vegan I am For the voice of the voiceless The nature of existence For the truth of the tears The cry and the pain The cruelty for an idea For the civilization of the civilized For the life as a gift it is For respect of life The life only, within and beyond From now on I am a vegan The love for life The truth of the divine The truth of nature The intelligence of human The sensation and sight The pain and cry The idea to breed The idea to **** The idea to feed Disrespect of nature The ignorance To crawl over and over The idea of indulsion The idea of false victory The idea of superiority The idea of amusement The idea of carnival The idea of the not alive But idea of the dead The alive if one Ought to respect life itself Turn the fire of warmth Find the well being With the sense of compassion For sure fill the belly And only with leafy greens Yes yes yes Nature made us as plant eaters Think and acknowledge for yourselves Our body is not that of a carnivore We are not natural meat eaters Don't have teeth of carnivore Don't have digestion as a carnivore A body for the plant based diet So its natural and without a glitch To eat leafy greens Killing animals for an idea Killing animals for the sake of food supply Evil it is Not a effort to manage food No no no It is a scam Breeding animals For the sole purpose Of killing for feeding Feeding the indulging ones Feeding for amusement Feeding for anything more than survival Except the sole purpose Of survival and existence Is an evil in itself Realized now Realized yesterday Realized to the haze And through maze to eternity Realization strikes A light bolt The light fills the dark Awaken Illuminate Realization Wow Vegan now on
0
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
Vegan
One with sensation One with feeling One with conscience One with tears The cry soars to the horizon They are killing They are slaughtering They are breeding They are feeding They need the flesh To digest into **** The cruelty within The merciless beyond The ignorance under The indulgence upon The assassin The mass ****** Slaughter and evil A call of an animal A call of a voiceless But a denial A denial of the human race Slaughter for an idea A pitiful act Denial of existence Today I am going vegan Dripped in emotion Dripped in sensation Dripped in acknowledgement Dripped in the knowing The knowing of evolution The evolution of life Of the voiceless The voiceless with life The mercy to be shown But merciless around The acknowledgement within Today i am going vegan Vegan I am For the voice of the voiceless The nature of existence For the truth of the tears The cry and the pain The cruelty for an idea For the civilization of the civilized For the life as a gift it is For respect of life The life only, within and beyond From now on I am a vegan The love for life The truth of the divine The truth of nature The intelligence of human The sensation and sight The pain and cry The idea to breed The idea to **** The idea to feed Disrespect of nature The ignorance To crawl over and over The idea of indulsion The idea of false victory The idea of superiority The idea of amusement The idea of carnival The idea of the not alive But idea of the dead The alive if one Ought to respect life itself Turn the fire of warmth Find the well being With the sense of compassion For sure fill the belly And only with leafy greens Yes yes yes Nature made us as plant eaters Think and acknowledge for yourselves Our body is not that of a carnivore We are not natural meat eaters Don't have teeth of carnivore Don't have digestion as a carnivore A body for the plant based diet So its natural and without a glitch To eat leafy greens Killing animals for an idea Killing animals for the sake of food supply Evil it is Not a effort to manage food No no no It is a scam Breeding animals For the sole purpose Of killing for feeding Feeding the indulging ones Feeding for amusement Feeding for anything more than survival Except the sole purpose Of survival and existence Is an evil in itself Realized now Realized yesterday Realized to the haze And through maze to eternity Realization strikes A light bolt The light fills the dark Awaken Illuminate Realization Wow Vegan now on
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113
I have put a Worry Eater on your bookshelf, right beside your favorite books. It may look like a simple wooden box, but don’t be fooled: it is a Worry Eater and the disguise is just so random visitors will not know what it is and try to take it from you, because Worry Eaters are very rare and coveted things. I would think the name should be self-explanatory, but you must feed it daily in order to keep your Worry Eater happy and full. Feeding it is simple: open the lid and whisper your worries in, or write them on little scraps of paper — lined college-ruled will do, but the margins of old poems make a special treat if you want to do something nice for your Worry Eater. (I’ve heard that diner napkins and the backs of grocery-store receipts add a nice flavor, too.) Some people may tell you, “Don’t worry, everything will be alright,” but these people do not have a hungry Worry Eater waiting at home, so you can just smile coyly at them and say, “Yes, you’re right,” and then go home and whisper your secret worries to your secret Worry Eater.
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Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:14 PM UTC
Worry Eater
Who is the world to define mine right or wrong? I am the one who decides it on my own The world a crazy place, people so weird Finding faults everywhere, while hiding in their beard When you stand for the right, They will advocate the wrong Justifying the same With million excuses in their thong Nirbhaya ***** they say girl was characterless Skirts, shorts, boyfriend, night shows - shameless And inchoate, rightly arousing men to **** One in coma now a four year old gang ***** Society mum when humanity disgraced??? Where are the people of so called decent family? Who judge n criticize from hair to lamellae If smoking kills, why is it not banned?? Beef eaters killed, man eaters praised on the land Alcohol, marijuana bad for health While more people die from terrorist attacks Crores are spent to maintain a terrorist To a soldier dying for the country, not even lakhs A rich is a witch flaunting their gold A poor a leech for things they cannot afford? Without external beauty a person is a waste? Your pennyless pocket how shall I grade? Other’s loss is a righteous act of God? Yours is a tragedy, unfortunate loss??? And then you have religion & morals To justify your notions Right or wrong, judgement filled oceans I am a free spirit, Born not to please your beliefs Enough of hypocrite world I see Killing and dividing on castes and creeds.                  © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 13 Oct. 2015
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
STANDARDS OF RIGHT & WRONG
You are seen as weird People often call you "Loony" But they couldn't be more wrong Yes, you are indeed different But then, every individual is unique And I like you as you are With all your pros and cons Yes, you may believe in things Which do not really exist But then, who doesn't? What truly matters Is the fact that you are a beautiful human being With a heart of gold Who doesn't judge anyone Sees people as they are Doesn't shy away from speaking uncomfortable truths Is modest to a fault And last but not the least Values friendship above everything else You know, I can relate to you I am also different And got bullied for that Just as you did However, your mental strength is remarkable After losing your mother at a very young age That too due to a freak accident You have shown the courage and fortitude Not to mention, resilience and tenacity To carry on with your life Do your best to excel at magic Display the natural curiosity and aptitude for learning Which is expected of every Ravenclaw Develop and sustain friendships And finally, put your life on the line In order to try and make the world a better place for all You are not only a true Ravenclaw But also possess the courage, nerve and daring of a Gryffindor And the loyalty and sense of justice of a Hufflepuff You only lack the cunning and ambition of a Slytherin Not to mention, you were kidnapped and held hostage by Death Eaters That too for a few months And somehow emerged almost unscathed After such a traumatic experience You really are an incredible witch Please remain the way you are No matter what people say And I will be a fan of yours Until, as Neville would say, "Hell freezes over"
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Jun 18, 2023
Jun 18, 2023 at 1:07 AM UTC
Poem Dedicated to Luna Lovegood
You are seen as weird People often call you "Loony" But they couldn't be more wrong Yes, you are indeed different But then, every individual is unique And I like you as you are With all your pros and cons Yes, you may believe in things Which do not really exist But then, who doesn't? What truly matters Is the fact that you are a beautiful human being With a heart of gold Who doesn't judge anyone Sees people as they are Doesn't shy away from speaking uncomfortable truths Is modest to a fault And last but not the least Values friendship above everything else You know, I can relate to you I am also different And got bullied for that Just as you did However, your mental strength is remarkable After losing your mother at a very young age That too due to a freak accident You have shown the courage and fortitude Not to mention, resilience and tenacity To carry on with your life Do your best to excel at magic Display the natural curiosity and aptitude for learning Which is expected of every Ravenclaw Develop and sustain friendships And finally, put your life on the line In order to try and make the world a better place for all You are not only a true Ravenclaw But also possess the courage, nerve and daring of a Gryffindor And the loyalty and sense of justice of a Hufflepuff You only lack the cunning and ambition of a Slytherin Not to mention, you were kidnapped and held hostage by Death Eaters That too for a few months And somehow emerged almost unscathed After such a traumatic experience You really are an incredible witch Please remain the way you are No matter what people say And I will be a fan of yours Until, as Neville would say, "Hell freezes over"
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48
Dobby's ideas, Are more of a glitch. Flesh memories, Buried in a snitch. Life is tough, And such a heavy fight. When dark times encircle you, Remember to Turn on the light. Weasley twins are strong, More like human beaters The world is not divided Into good people and death eaters. For in dreams, We enter a world entirely our own. Turn to page number Three hundred and ninety four. Dumbledore smiled, Everyone has bad days. Snape replied, Always. The people we love, Leave us never. The stories we love best, Do live in us forever. Cause the books we truly love, Right back, they love us. Draco, Dormiens, Nunquam, Tittilandus.
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Harry Potter
No sense for the senseless Brains for the brain eaters schools, business, multi media Mosquitoes with cyber eyes spreading dull life and exciting lies Broken records misdefined, CD’s, USB, mp3 all wasted on nothing real Color splash, purposeful mismatch Pop a quad stack down the hatch quick *** quick cash no point to living live life fast Senseless
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
Modern Day Love Story
He had to come back. On a December afternoon when the sun was more to west, he landed on the most favorite place of his house, the roof. Just as he had imagined the still winter air was abuzz with life. Doves were pairing for a home Green bee-eaters swooped on insects Two herons kept following the grazing cow Crows were busy with twigs and wires High up beyond where paper kites could soar Storks slow sunned their wings wet from the jhil The cats warmed their furs before the cold night The stray puppy gamboled with its mother. Each piece had perfectly fitted the other including the silently sleeping house. He was tempted to walk down once has she changed any little way? He smiled to himself then breezed away from the roof.
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
On a December Afternoon
I never drove by that was the ***** way,              half time trying to hit a wet spot blind. or killing the time of those who were never meant to fall... Got honor between the lines, I'll stop the car,               open the door, walk out suited not you average gangster, look like the others and no one running till I pulls out your friend it anit here for a meet and greet. More like say hello to, goodbye...    you bleeding on the floor, I'm a good shot... One to the chest, you fell now one to the head,    you aint paid you bills now your blood                                            stained in the wind. Casually walking back to the car signing          autographs of his followers.   This meet and greets been productive,    Family signing you off on the morgue... I aint going to lie the only necktie I be            tightening is yours... Tied to a chair, if I need information,    asking as politely with a ball hammer                                    and some pliers... I had a few mouths shout off, now they walk the street silently,   never **** disrespect. Show what silence sounds like, respect is fear          and I'm the scarecrow in the field. And you crows,     you worm eaters ain't seen nothing yet..
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Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 6:49 PM UTC
Not Your Average
Where are the pens that Feed our ancestors? The ink out. Or seized Are they? The cats stand by our soups and Mother looked on - with perched gob. This land, what the hell befalls you? I ask father again - where the voice dwells Ours is a nation of eaters, no leftovers for The wandering souls. We cry for a roof to call home. Where are the pens that Feed our ancestors? The ink out. Or seized Are they? The cats stand by our soups and Mother looked on - with perched gob. To the grumbling minors, arrows are thrown. Our dreams now roam in the street like the Rome of Demons. A dome of doom. Abiola. Giwa. Strike with your papers.
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May 30, 2022
May 30, 2022 at 9:47 AM UTC
Rome Of Demons
“We have pulled the trigger” We the generations who have inherited mankind’s death throes must be accepting of the death sentence we have posted on our children “So enjoy the life you have left” Global warming brings evermore unpredictable jerks-and-jumps in climate change. Now melting ice caps and glaciers may trigger huge volcanic eruptions and the cloud from which mankind cannot be saved. “You can’t save the planet” Who is trying, arrogant lawyer-ed politicians? Meat eaters? Breeders and owners of dogs? Petrol heads? Supermarket shopaholics? You? *"Enjoy the blue sky - whilst you can"* .
0
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
*BANG*
Life's Better When You're Dreaming Of a Transcendental World With Deliverance and Freedom Under a Sky of Neon Pearls, Where the Populace are Former Loves All Gathered in the Clouds And Lend an Ear, for Bygone Cheer So Memoirs can be Ploughed. Life's Better When You're Dreaming Of Archaic Silver Screen Parading Lavish Garments And Conversing with James Dean, Where Bowler Hats are Stock Attire And Pea-coats Line the Hall And Champagne Flutes, Say 'Fill your Boots' To an Infinite Curtain Call. Life's Better When You're Dreaming Of a Ride on the Good Ship Hope With Secret Codes and Yellow-bricked Roads And ***** with the Pope, Where Lotus-eaters Man The Decks And White Rabbits Scale the Mast We'll Sail Away, On a Tranquil Day And Pervade the Ocean Vast. Life's Better When You're Dreaming Of Unblemished Skin and Bone On a Bed of Fragrant Petals On which Countless Seeds are Sewn, Where Laborious Figures Embrace as One Compelling Magnets to Concede And Music will, Amuse them 'till They Repeat the Final Scene. Life's Better When You're Dreaming That all the World's a Stage And that Pair are a Distant Footnote On the Thirty Thousandth Page, Where the Cast are Poised in Waiting And the Finale is About to Start They Take a Bow, And this Tells Me How I Came to Play this Part. December 2010 (Completed April 2011)
0
Apr 20, 2011
Apr 20, 2011 at 9:18 AM UTC
Life's Better When You're Dreaming
Your memories breathe with the breath of mine It will breathe until the rays of sunshine… In your absence nature has become my lover Birds become the singer The drops of the rain have become the drummer… And I am the only listener… The army ants bite me instead of biting the earth   They are enjoying my flesh but I don’t sense the pain Your memories are killing me harder than those army ants….
0
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
Army Ants My flesh eaters.....
... Dear Mr. P - [stop] - ... I was your knife in the water, a credit card kept exclusively for killing - [stop] - I was a gingersnap on your sugar train, a flower-filled glory box to swallow your whole wide world - [stop] - I was night, night of the electric insects, praying mantis and ladybug — nervous animals, lotus eaters, enjoying a ceremonial after meal - [stop] - I was slivers of pseudoscience poisoned by man-made seasons — a new and beautiful and interesting disease - [stop] - You and me, we are now the same — snapshots in sheared time, before the closedown of our impossibly ****** impulses - [stop] - ... Best wishes, V ···
0
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 12:20 PM UTC
Telegram From an Angry ******
A long time after bedtime When it's very late When even dogs dream And there's deep sleep Breathing through the house When the doors are locked And the curtains drawn And the shops are dark And the last train's gone And there's no more traffic in the street Because everyone's asleep Then.... The window cleaner comes To the main shop fronts And polishes the glass In the street-lit dark And a big truck rumbles past On it's way to the dump Loaded with the last Of the day's trash On the twentieth floor Of the office tower There's a lighted window And high up there Another night cleaner's Vacuuming the floor Working nights on her own While her children sleep at home And down in the dome of the observatory The astronomer who's waited all day for the dark Is watching the good black sky at last For stars and moons And spikes of light Through her telescope In the middle of the night While everybody sleeps At the bakery The bakers in their floury clothes Mix dough in machines For tomorrow's loaves of bread And out by the gate Rows of parked vans sit For their drivers to come And take newly baked Bread to the shops For the time when the Bread eaters wake Across the town at the hospital Where the nurses watch in the dim-lit wards Someone very old shuts their eyes And dies Breathes their very last breath On their very last night Yet not very far away on another floor After months of waiting A new baby's born And the mother and father Hold the baby and smile And the baby looks up And the world's just begun But still, everybody sleeps Now through the silent station Past the empty shops And the office towers Past the sleeping streets And the hospital A train with no windows Goes rattling by And inside the train the sorters sift Urgent letters and packets on the late night shift So tomorrow's mail will arrive in time At the towns and villages down the line And the mother With the wakeful child in her arms Walking up and down And up and down And up and down The room Hears the train as it passes by And the cats in the yard And the night owl's flight And hums hushabye hushabye We should sleep now You and I It's late and time to close your eyes It's the middle of the night.
0
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 9:27 PM UTC
In The Middle Of The Night
A long time after bedtime When it's very late When even dogs dream And there's deep sleep Breathing through the house When the doors are locked And the curtains drawn And the shops are dark And the last train's gone And there's no more traffic in the street Because everyone's asleep Then.... The window cleaner comes To the main shop fronts And polishes the glass In the street-lit dark And a big truck rumbles past On it's way to the dump Loaded with the last Of the day's trash On the twentieth floor Of the office tower There's a lighted window And high up there Another night cleaner's Vacuuming the floor Working nights on her own While her children sleep at home And down in the dome of the observatory The astronomer who's waited all day for the dark Is watching the good black sky at last For stars and moons And spikes of light Through her telescope In the middle of the night While everybody sleeps At the bakery The bakers in their floury clothes Mix dough in machines For tomorrow's loaves of bread And out by the gate Rows of parked vans sit For their drivers to come And take newly baked Bread to the shops For the time when the Bread eaters wake Across the town at the hospital Where the nurses watch in the dim-lit wards Someone very old shuts their eyes And dies Breathes their very last breath On their very last night Yet not very far away on another floor After months of waiting A new baby's born And the mother and father Hold the baby and smile And the baby looks up And the world's just begun But still, everybody sleeps Now through the silent station Past the empty shops And the office towers Past the sleeping streets And the hospital A train with no windows Goes rattling by And inside the train the sorters sift Urgent letters and packets on the late night shift So tomorrow's mail will arrive in time At the towns and villages down the line And the mother With the wakeful child in her arms Walking up and down And up and down And up and down The room Hears the train as it passes by And the cats in the yard And the night owl's flight And hums hushabye hushabye We should sleep now You and I It's late and time to close your eyes It's the middle of the night.
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Come to think of it, I've never seen a fat vampire It's not like they get a lot of exercise Laying around all day in their own grave You would think they'd a bit larger in size I mean don't they ever get hungry So hungry they say they could die That's hard as the walking dead with no lives left Bet they'd love if blood came deep Southern fried Do they prefer meat eaters over vegetarians Do they like their veins to be grain feed Or they picky or not with the choices they've got And would they settle for whatever is left It'd be nice if they could at least enjoy desert Maybe a slice of Red Velvet cake With icing so cold, matching their dead empty soul And red of course for reds ****** sake Yes, all the vampires I know are skinny minnies Could be cause they only know how drink I find it kind of cruel as all they can do is drool Watching as living sit there and eat
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Pardon me but have you seen an overweight vampire pass by this way within the last couple thousand years?
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING Why compromised are the police men? From all over the world, policemen are sellouts, Policemen arrested Jesus Christ and flogged him, Others tortured Galileo Galilai for intellectual cross purpose, Some of them vandalized Martin Luther King, and his wife, As they also put Fidel Castro on the tilted trial, The same are the ones that arrested Mahatma Gandhi In the same tandem of Colonel Afrifa organizing a coup To effect putsch against Kwameh Nkrumah, or Mandela to Robben gulag, They tortured Rubia and Matiba in Kenya down the abyss of mental breakdown, They kicked in the teeth Abdulla Abdalladiff at Kamiti prison Then they ran off for a decade to effect the ****** of Robert Ouko, Their evil tendency was never quenched until They abducted the County parliament speaker Of Maembe hamlet in the Nyake Kingdom of potato eaters And held him in the spine chilling captivity for days and days Only to release him when he sufficed to stay in dumb freedom.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING
There are none so blind as those who will not see A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country, Let the cobbler stick to his last; the nearer the church The further from God; speak the truth and shame the devil Every bullet has a billet, curses like chickens come home to roost Comparisons are odious we are light years of discretion away A little tin god enough to make angels weep Sitting on thorns telling **** and bull stories, I'll sieze the nettle and foul my own nest Straight from the shoulder the sinews of war To smite hip and thigh cut to the bone playing Merry with lotus-eaters an elephant never forgets Pull devil, pull baker man proposes but God disposes Theres nothing new under the sun Pitchers have big ears and pride goes before the fall Even a worm will turn as fine words Butter no parsnips, still waters run deep Physician, Heal thyself. ELEETE J MUIR
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Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 6:30 AM UTC
High Time
Every shoe that I seen customers step in was a beginning that I thought would never end I have seen assortment of shoe wearing feet It looked like a battle giving into defeat Yet I wondered why the customer doesn’t see that the shoe doesn’t fit The customer should be thrown into a pit Heels often have taken notice No odor eaters seemed to surface If the shoe doesn’t fit then you need to quit The idea is knowing the precise shoe size To me that would be thinking wise You don’t want revenge from your feet A good quality shoe would be an added treat Remember you need your feet in order to walk not agony with a bark I am the Shoe Horn to get the shoe on your feet It should be a struggle and your feet feeling beat I am the Shoe Horn in wanting to help you fit into the shoe Because I am a Shoe Horn, this is what I am supposed to do If you fight with the Shoe Horn to get the shoe on, we will be both through and there’s your clue Remember I am the Shoe Horn being your foot’s friend It all starts when you enter the shoe store when you step in Think on Shoe Horn when you purchase a pair of shoes I want you to feel enthused This Shoe Horn doesn’t want your feet to get bruised There you have it being a shoe in Let your feet have pavement royalty and comfort being a reality.
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
THE TALKING SHOE HORN