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Obadiah Grey Jun 2010
Mi fatha

Mi fatha wer a miner,
a big owd man wer ee,
wi  an eart so bold it wer solid gold
en that wer plain te see,
al si thee yung un he wud sey
as off te pit eed trot,
mi mam ed never know if eed be
cumin bak or not.

**** denaby pit e wud gu
a dank en dusky hole,
twer not much gud fer a man like im
ee wer’nt a ****** mole!,

bak brekin werk wer hewin coyel
en freekinin dark en all,
en colliers werst neetmare
wer wen th roof ed fall,
trapt **** pits n’ha way tu dee
en that ah’m tellin thee,
tis gud advice tu stop up top
ah’l tell thee that fer free,

ah’l allus remember copper  
e cem a knocking
mi mam she fear’d werst
wen ah’la sudden
a flooda tears did berst,

n’ha th pit ed got mi fatha
ee wer’nt cumin om at all
twer th coliers werst neetmare
th roof.. ed ad.. a fall.

Alan nettleton.

translation for non yorkie's

My father was a miner
a great big man was he,
with a heart so bold
it was solid gold
and that was plain to see,
I’ll see you young one he would say
as off to the pit he’d trot,
my mother never knew
if he was coming back or not,
down denaby pit he would go
a dank and dusky hole,
it wasn’t much good for a man like him
he wasn’t a ****** mole,
back breaking work was hewing coal
and frightening dark and all,
the colliers worst nightmare
was when the roof would fall,
trapped down the pit is no way to die
and that I’m telling thee,
it’s good advice to stop up top
I’ll tell you that for free,
I’ll always remember the policeman
came a knocking,
my mother she feared the worst ,
when all of a sudden
a flood of tears did burst,
now the pit had got my father
he wasn’t coming home at all,
it was the colliers worst nightmare
the roof it had .....a fall.

Alan nettleton
Lilly Tereza Nov 2012
A
Kiss, stolen in secret.
Away, from prying eyes.

Before
The the school
Bell rang.

Can't
You see the memories
Concealed behind my eyes?

Do
You even care
Don't you even see my tears?

Eventually
They say I will forget.
Even though I know I never will.

Fore
Your smell still lingers on my clothes.
Forever etched into my brain.

Going
Round and round my head,
Got to forget your kiss.

Help
Me move on and
Hold my head up high.

It
Simply does no good to remember.
I* swear I'm going mad.

Just
The way you say my name.
Jynn*... Like it's beautiful.

Kill
Me before I fall too deeply addicted to your
Kiss, so sweet and soft.

Love
The age old
Lie, told by every member of your kind.

Maybe
I can do this on
My own, free myself from you.

Never
Did I think I'd
Need you this much.

Only
Boy to ever truly
Own my heart.

Probably
the most
Painful of any hurt.

Quiet
Tears as loud and
Obnoxious as a car alarm.

Running
Away from my fears.
Ripping you from my life.

Stop
Trying to
Stay, It only makes it harder.

Today
Is the day I finally
Tear away from the life I hate.

Unfortunately,  
My heart and brain
Unanimously decided that life was caused by you.

Very
Well, If you agree. This
Vacancy in my life is not for you.

Won't
You let me die?
Why must you torture me so?

eX-treme
Heartache, I
eX-alted you so.

You,
The love of my life. un-
Yielding rollar coaster, just wont stop.

Zombie
Of my former self, drained of
Zest, and life.
Arcassin B Mar 2015
by Arcassin Burnham


Your Right You don't Need my permission,
but I won't sit here and listen to your petty extensions,
and stupid ramblings about you turning the other cheek,
thats like telling me to kiss it just to be kind and sweet,
but I'm me and you should be you,
your audience has expanded,
many people gets a load of you,
which is crazy to me,
because you're not relatable,
even the final stages of anatomy or intimacy,
you failed,
sorry,
let the truth be reliable,
everybody might think you some nice guy that loves to make his words look good,
but again you target me,
in hopes I be misunderstood.

correction your not a good poet.
*** makes a line about me not being a good poet , and I don't how to write , how long have you been writing like a year ***** , I been writing since I was 13 bruh , keep talking **** and ill embarrass you.

**** hellopoetry107
Nina McNally Feb 2015
Time goes by so fast!!
Here and now are our moments to cherish for
Eternity! We have the chance to make a change, the

Kids won't be alright if we don't do something now.
In these precious moments of childhood, innocence, and  
Diversity, we have a chance to
Show the kids that they can make

A* difference and change the world for the better.
Right now, there are many kids who are "lost" and feeling
"Empty". They don't have anyone, but we  
Need to show them that  
They're not alone!

All these kids are our *FUTURE!

Love and caring,
Really caring, showing them that together we can be one.
In our culture, there's still so much hate
Going around that our kids will grow up
Hating people based on their skin, who they love, and so on.
Together; here and now, we can change that!!

*The Kids Will Be Okay
©2/13/2015; McNally, Inc.
title from the song by Fall Out Boy,
(also from The Offspring)
This poem is very much inspired by Fall Out Boy's The Kids Aren't Alright. :)
Mike Essig Sep 2015
by Rudyard Kipling*

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
‘Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!'
      Come you back to Mandalay,
      Where the old Flotilla lay:
      Can't you ‘ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

‘Er petticoat was yaller an' ‘er liggle cap was green,
An' ‘er name was Supi-yaw-lat–jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an ‘eathen idol's foot:
      Bloomin' idol made o' mud–
      Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd–
      Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed ‘er where she stud!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd *** ‘er little banjo an' she'd sing ‘Kulla-lo-lo!'
With ‘er arm upon my shoulder an' ‘er cheek agin my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.
      Elephints a'pilin' teak
      In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
      Where the silence ‘ung that ‘eavy you was ‘arf afraid to speak!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

But that's all shove be'ind me–long ago an' fur away,
An' there ain't no ‘busses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' ‘ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
‘If you've ‘eard the East a-callin', you won't never ‘eed naught else.'
      No! You won't ‘eed nothin' else
      But them spicy garlic smells,
      An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly-temple -bells;
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty ‘ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin' but wot do they understand?
      Beefy face an' grubby ‘and–
      Law! Wot do they understand?
      I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;*
For the temple-bells are callin', and' it's there that I would be–
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the old Flotilla lay,
      With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
      On the road to Mandalay,
      Where the flyin'-fishes play,
      An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China ‘crost the Bay!
Madds May 2012
BLEE
         EE
              EE
                   EED!
Dig that ******* razor DEEPER into your wrists.
Practice what you preach, and show us you're not afraid.
Don't just scratch with a pin and claim to slash them.
Practice what you preach. Practice what you preach.
uwihadkd I don't know.
Vandag vloek-groet ek die verlede
en spuug die suur naam uit
en rig ek al my groot gebede
om gistergoed ook weg te smyt

Maar koester ek die kleine vrees
in die diepste van my hart
sal more net soos gister wees
breek die ook van die smart

en deel ek in vertroulikheid
my woordsopregte eed
as more soos 'n spiel wil lyk
sal dood my uit ellende sleep

Tog, mik ek vir die kruine
- droom my silwer droom
,  vermy vergete pyne
van 'n toekoms palindroom.

Want as my lepel andersom
dieselfde as tevore lyk
wees jy ook nie te verstom
as ek na sagte doodsoen reik.
The Good Pussy Feb 2015
.
                          " 'I know not
                        what is coming,
                     but be  what it  will
                   I will go to it  laughing.
                     Better  to  sleep with
                      a sober  cannibal th
                      an a  drunk Christia
                      n •It is not down  on
                      any map; true place
                      s never are.  • Tell m
                      e not  of  blasphemy,
                      man;  I'd   strike  the
                      sun if it insulted  me.
                      ... and  Heaven  have
                     mercy  on us  all-Pres
                     bytarians and Pagans
                     alike  for  we  are  all
                     somehow dreadfully
                     broken, and sadly   n
                     eed mending • There
                     are certain occasions
                     in this strange mixed
                     affair   we   call    life  
          when a man                 takes this
      whole universe        for a vast Practical
   joke, though the wit  thereof he but deepl
y discerns, and more  than suspects that th
      e Joke is at no             body's  expense
            t h a n                         his own.' "
Herman Melville
Nina McNally Nov 2016
Tomorrow's another day, another ful of
Hope. Another day to share love, show kindness
In this world there's too much hate--we need to
Spread love and kindness and

Show our children that we're in this together!
Our world needs us; we
Need our world!
Gather everyone you love and

Share Kindness.
And listen to music!! All different
Varieties of music---
Every kind-- MUSIC is LIFE!
Doing good, showing kindness, and

Much more is what we need in this world.
Yesterday is just a day

Longing to bring peace to this world.
In life, it's to short to worry and
Forever is so for a way, just breathe
E**veryday and show love!
T8tle from Simple Plan.
Written from my heart as it came to me.
Music is the best!!
Peace and Love
©2016
McNally/Flanders, Inc.
heaven Oct 2014
ابن أبي داود السجستاني - حائية

تمسك بحبلِ الله وأتبعِ الهُدى ، ولا تكُ بدعيا لعلك تُفلحُ
Hold tightly to the rope of Allaah and the guidance,
And do not be an innovator, so that you might be successful.

ودنْ بكتابِ الله والسننِ التي ، أتت عنْ رسول الله تنجو وتربحُ
And practice your religion based on the Book of Allaah and the Sunan which
have come from the Messenger of Allaah so you will be saved and earn reward.

وقل غيرُ مخلوقٍ كلام مليكنا ، بذلك دان الـأتقياء , وأفصحوا
And say: Not a created thing is the Speech of our great King,
Such was the religious position of the pious ones (before us) who spoke well.

ولا تكُ في القرآن بالوقف قائلاً ، كما قال أتْباعٌ لجمٍ وأسححُوا
And do not be a person who takes no position on the Quran,
As did the followers of Jahm, and they had been too lax (to take the right position).

ولا تقل القرآن حلْقٌ قرأْتُهُ ، فإن كلام اللهِ باللفظ يُوضحُ
And do not say that the Quran is created, meaning: its recitation,
Since the Speech of Allaah, through its recitation, is made clear.

وقل يتجلى الله للخلقِ جهرةً ، كما البدر لا يخفى وربك أوضحُ
And say: Allaah will make himself visible to all the creation, openly,
Just as the full moon is not hard to see, and your Lord (will be seen) more clearly.


وليس بمولدٍ وليس بوالدٍ ، وليس له شِبْهٌ تعالى المُسبحُ
And He was not born, nor has He fathered anyone,
Nor is there anything similar to Him, exalted be the Glorified One.

وقد يُنكِر الجهمي هذا عندنا ، بمصداقِ ما قلنا حديثٌ مصرحُ
A Jahmee rejects this, however, we have
As a testimony to the truth of what we say – a hadeeth that clarifies it.

رواه جريرٌ عم مقالِ مُحمدٍ ، فقلُ مِثل ما قد قال ذاك تنْجحُ
Jareer narrated it, from the words of Muhammad,
So say what he said about that, and you will be successful.

وقد ينكرُ الجهمي أيضاً يمينهُ ، وكِلتا يديه بالفواضلِ تنْفحُ
And perhaps a Jahmee might deny His Right Hand as well,
While both of His Hands are giving out all kinds of bounties.

وقل ينزلُ الجبارُ في كلِّ ليلةٍ ، بر كيفَ جلَّ الواحدُ المُتمَدحُ
And say: The Ever-Compelling descends each night,
Without asking for exact details, magnificent is the One God and most worthy of praise.

إلى طبقِ الدنيا يمُنُّ بفضلهِ ، فتفرجُ أبواب السماءِ وتُفتحُ
Down to the lowest heaven, granting bounties from His Grace,
As the gates of the heavens are opened and spread widely.

يقولُ أَلا مُستغفرٌ يَلقَ غافراً ، ومُستمنحٌ خيراً ورِزْقاً فُمنحُ
He says: Is there anyone seeking forgiveness who would like to meet a Forgiver?
Or anyone seeking bounties of goodness and provisions, so he could be given (what he requests)?

روى ذاك قومٌ لا يردُّ حديثُهم ، ألا خابَ قومٌ كذبوهم وقُبِّحوا
A group have reported this whose reports are not to be rejected,
But sadly some have went wrong and did not believe them, marring themselves.

وقل: إنَّ خير النَّاسِ بعد محمَّدٍ ، وزيراهُ قدَماً ثم عثمانُ الارجَحُ
And say: Indeed the best of the people after Muhammad
Were his two deputies of old, and then ‘Uthmaan, according to the most correct position.

ورابعهُمْ خيرُ البريَّة بعدهُم ، عليٌّ حليفُ الخيرِ بالخيرِ مُنْجِحُ
And the fourth of them was the best of creation after them,
‘Alee, the companion of goodness, through goodness he was successful.

وإنَّهم للرَّهطُ لا ريبَ فيهمُ ، على نُجبِ الفردوسِ بالنُّور تَسرحُ
Those are the people, those who we have no doubt about,
Upon the great camels of Firdows, shining brightly and roaming about.

سعيدٌ وسعدٌ وابن عوفٍ وطلحةُ ، وعامرُ فهرٍ والزبيرُ الممدَّح
Sa’eed, Sa’d, Ibn ‘Awf, Talhah,
‘Aamir of Fihr, and Zubayr the praiseworthy.

وقل خيرض قولٍ في الصحابة كلِّهم ، ولا تك طعَّاناً تعيبُ وتجرحُ
And speak with the best terms about the Companions, all of them,
And do not be one who speaks ill of them, pointing out their faults and criticizing,

فقد نطقَ الوحيُ المبينث بفضلِهم ، وفي الفتح آيٌ للصَّحابةِ تمدحُ
Since the clear Revelation has spoke of their excellence,
And in (Soorah) al-Fat-h are verses about the Companions, praising them.

وبالقدرِ المقدورِ أيقِن فإنَّه ، دعامةُ عقدِ الدِّين ، والدِّينُ أفيحُ
And regarding the pre-ordained Qadr, be convinced, since it is
The pillar that combines many affairs of the Religion, and the Religion encompasses much.

ولا تُنكِرَنْ جهلاً نكيراً ومُنكراً ، ولا الحوْضَ والِميزانَ انك تُنصحُ
And do not reject, out of ignorance, (belief in) Nakeer and Munkar,
Or the Pool or the Scales, surely you are being advised sincerely.

وقُلْ يُخرجُ اللهُ الْعظيمُ بِفَضلِهِ ، مِنَ النارِ أجْساداً مِنَ الفَحْمِ تُطرحُ
And say: Allaah, the Great, will remove, from of His Grace,
Out of the Fire, people, burned severely, who will then be tossed.

عَلى النهرِ في الفِرْدوسِ تَحْيَا بِمَائِهِ ، كَحِبِّ حَمِيلِ السَّيْلِ إذْ جَاءَ يَطْفَحُ
Into the river in Firdows, wherein they will regain life by its water,
Like a seed taken by a flood that comes and wipes things away with its abundant water.

وإن رَسُولَ اللهِ للخَلْقِ شَافِعٌ ، وقُلْ في عَذابِ القَبْرِ حَقّ موَُضحُ
And surely, the Messenger of Allaah will intercede,
And speak about the punishment of the grave, that it is the truth, made clear.

ولاَ تُكْفِرنْ أَهلَ الصلاةِ وإِنْ عَصَوْا ، فَكُلهُمُ يَعْصِي وذُو العَرشِ يَصفَحُ
And do not make takfeer of those who pray, even if they commit sins,
Since all of them commits sins, while the Owner of the Throne forgives graciously.

ولَا تَعتقِدْ رأيَ الْخَوَارجِ إِنهُ ، مقَالٌ لَمنْ يَهواهُ يُردي ويَفْضَحُ
And do not hold a belief like that of the Khawaarij, for it is
A position held by only those who desire it, and it is destructive and disgraceful.

ولا تكُ مُرْجيًّا لَعُوبا بدينهِ ، ألاَ إِنمَا المُرْجِي بِالدينِ يَمْزحُ
And do not be a Murji’, one who plays games with his religion,
Surely, the Murji’ is joking about the religion (ie. not taking it seriously).

وقلْ : إنمَا الإِيمانُ : قولٌ ونِيةٌ ، وفعلٌ عَلَى قولِ النبِي مُصَرحُ
And say: Eemaan (faith) consists of statements, intentions,
And Actions, according to the explicit statement of the Prophet.

ويَنْقُصُ طوراً بالمَعَاصِي وتَارةً ، بِطَاعَتِهِ يَمْنَي وفي الوَزْنِ يَرْجَحُ
And it decreases sometimes, due to disobedience, and sometimes
Because of obedience it grows, and on the Scale it will outweigh (other things).

ودعْ عَنْكَ آراءَ الرجالِ وقَوْلَهُمْ ، فقولُ رسولِ اللهِ أزكَى وأَشْرحُ
And keep yourself from the opinions of people and their stances,
Since the stance of the Messenger of Allaah is more befitting and easier on one’s chest.

ولا تَكُ مِن قوْمٍ تلهوْا بدينِهِمْ ، فَتَطْعَنَ في أهلِ الحَديثِ وتقدحُ
And do not be from those who play games with their religion,
Attacking the people of hadeeth and reviling them.

إِذَا مَا اعْتقدْت الدهْرَ يا صَاحِ هذهِ ، فأَنْت عَلَى خَيْرٍ تبيتُ وتُصْبِحُ
If you keep this belief all your life, O holder of this (poem),
You will be upon goodness, day and night.
Al-haa iyyah
by Ibn Abi Dawud Assijistanee
Julie Butler Jan 2016
I said enough when it wasn't  
my like for a mountain of
mouths to **** time
& I'm still standing in the hallway;
happening upon where it went
or
if you could have helped it
I know I couldn't
when I can hardly stand or
stand it
built a lump of love in the blue dark
during wine
she's just
a woman in jeans
a heavy thought against my knees or
something I think I need to
belong with me
David Nelson Jun 2010
I wanted to be

I wanted to be a cowboy, rassle cows to the ground,
I wanted to be a pilot, fly those airships all around

I wanted to be a star, hit the ***** so very far,
I wanted to be a driver, burning rubber in my car

I wanted to be a doctor, save the lives of those in need,
I wanted to be a lawyer, when I was thinking gr eed

I wanted to be the mayor, take my city to the top,
I wanted to be an actor, hope I don't appear in a flop

I wanted to be a fireman, save the children from the fires,
I wanted to be a copper, catch the robbers, cheats and liars

I wanted to be a priest, help the sinners save they're souls,
I wanted to be a lover, playing the lead man roles,

I wanted to be a father, raise my children to be proud,
I wanted to be a weather guy, explaining the evening cloud

I wanted to be scientist, discover new things in this life,
I wanted to be a husband, have me a pretty wife

I wanted to be a builder, bridges, and buildings reaching high,
I wanted to be a  analyst, wondering why people cry

I wanted to be a soldier, keeping my country from harm,
I wanted to be a human, helping my fellow man stay warm

Gomer LePoet...
Juliana Apr 2021
Dear-Keydoard,

****-you.I-woke-up-this-morig
i-such-a-good-mood.­Although-there
was-a-slight-threat-of-rai,the-soud-of
thuder-wrap­ped-me-i-a-tight-hug.

There-was-o-aggig-feelig-of-detrayal
happe­ig-deeath-my-figertips.
My-creativty-was-flowig-freely.
The-words­-movig-from-drai-to-figertips,
words-separated,floodig-oto-the-ke­ys.
The-duzzig-of-my-drai-mixed-with-the
ull-of-oise-expected-of-­early-morig.

Dut-the,like-outer-space,I-missed-the
gravity-of-th­e-situatio.We-are-ot-a
friedship.We-are-darely-colleagues.
I-push­-you,you-do-what-I-say,
dut-sometimes,right-whe-I-eed-you,
you-do­’t.

So-I-thak-you,dear-keydoard,
for-deig-so-reliadle,
for-all-t­he-wrog-reasos.

Two-weeks-of-vacatio-is-all-I-could-hope,
Juliaa­-Theis
Don Bouchard Dec 2015
The summer had come and gone,
And tomorrow, she was leaving,
Going back to the city to wait
The warming spring's returning.

At 88, she had decided it best,
Husband gone four years,
Two hips healed, but stiffening;
Ice forming on the ground
To keep her from walking;
Time to go back to the city to rest,
Hopefully to return when whooping cranes
V'eed north again in spring.

She'd packed her things
In two suitcases yesterday:
Simple clothes,
Her Bible,
A pair of shoes, or two;
Not much now,
No need.

She wondered if he'd do one thing
Before they drove away.

"My nails need a trim."

So, here he was,
Bent low to hold each foot,
To trim his mother's nails...

Memory, returned then,
Reversed four years
To this same chair,
In this same house,
His father struggling for air,
Needing help to dress.

He saw again his father's feet,
Frail and white and cool,
The nails long and needing care.

Embarrassed, the old man,
Despite the lack of breath,
Wheezed he couldn't bend
To reach his feet.

And the son had bowed then
To trim his father's nails,
And dressed him before
The three of them began the journey
From which only two returned.

And now, the week before Christmas,
The mother and her son,
Focused on the nail clipping,
Knowing certain chores,
However poignant,
Must be done.
Phone conversation with my brother (12-21-2015). I love you both.
I S A A C Apr 5
idle by my idols
practice like a recital
did not know your love was so vital
your ex my new rival
jealous and jealously
remember i am all you need
Letting the entertainers know
we are all night to participate in a little show
la dee daad eed addad ddad
make waves and take another templatate, yours is here, is it lost yeT?
dadadadadadhahdhaha
make we sing your favorite turnes, I won’t pass judgment by you
la deee dadadad dee daw
they knew you for a second, but now its gone and over
magical little msysterioes, I ca’t begin to tak ebhte first step towards majesty, charisma, adultry, fantasy, calligraphy, oceanography, the study of maps and languages blah deee dee blah blkah
good ideas that start off good **** then don’t follow through the bullet of the gun barrrelll very well
youy’re on a tight stretch, a little mystery, you missed your mating call, granted you are tall and this situation is impossible, make your grave while you stand, take a shotgun to the head, the few applause, they were a couple in front and they really meant it, take it with an upper lip you twit
what was it that I was even saying?
Lets get gritty, I need a sigh and a smoke
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
nudni ludzie zawsze mają coś
do powiedzenia

-

boring people, always have
something to say,

bo to zawsze znaczy gawarić
         o innych -

because it always means
speaking about others.

3 ******* nights,
i've been mitigating "concern"
for a light source
via a candle,
   and a samsung tablet...

what has resorted
in giving me the most comfort?
what prometheus came down
with onto the plateau...

what the demigod son of
zeus came down with,
with, electricity?!

                  fire, fire is comforting,
in that it warms,
but also illuminates...
what is a thunder bolt?
light... and then?
  electrocution!
         no more, no, less!

the cats agree...
i'm good with:
from earth you came,
unto the earht you will return...
in between?
i need to pour some wax
into my hand,
just, to "make" sure...

                    danke (dir).
hier, mein zeppelin!

          was war was:
        mit die Elisabeth-Gruß?!
             tragen-zu komödie-skizzieren?!

english people talk too much...
   englischvolk spreschen zu viel...

i'll speak my german,
via anglican grammar...
                for a reason...
       beyond the reason of:
well, i've integrated...
there's no other reason for me
to "integrate",
other than to,
disembody myself from
these, corrupt people...

              ich bin deutsche,
durch fälschen...

            i had to...
  you think relearning head-banging
was somehow "easy",
without learning some deutsche?!

oh, yes yes...
   ich war gehen mein glauben im
diese fälschung sachsen...

   pierdole...
               nawet...  jeżeli mówię
gminą mowy,
  a nie panem miasta:
tym - germańskim...
                             to, moja: sprawa...

when was, center, osten?
            oh, right... when Warschau...
und Berlin was "osten" off anywhere
beside Paris or Loon'don,
and as far east as Novosibirsk?
as vest as is vest as
is the "pity" showered upon
           Doob'lin?!

i'm waiting.

and in my waiting: who could say...
i have a fetish for german language...
but none of their pornographic materials?

perhaps i would have learned french...
if i knew the post-latin order...
and how the germanic languages use another
order... how even western slavic uses...
post-latin romantic order of words...

best example?
sunflower oil... in english...
in german: sonnenblumenöl...
huile de tournesol in french...
olej słonecznikowy in ****** western slavic -
masovian or galician or...

the sunflower is a "precursor" of...
oil... not elsewhere...
among the french and among the polacks
oil is stressed first...
then the denotation of: what kind of oil?
why i didn't learn french?
oh... i was supposed to forget my mother
tongue...
i would have learned german
with more ease having acquired english...
fwench ****** it oops...

what's that, kind auditory hallucination
of spontaneity and no l.c.d. being ingested?
what's that word?
niemcy? hear that? the word means:
germans...

so what's cooking and more to the point...
who's cooking and what?
languages?
in my vicinity... 4 at least...
one as still acquired...
one in a caste of a broken lending broker...
one as a fetish and one as
a... minor fetish... Paris circa 2004...
and not because i'm english in any way
possible and i have a: the sort of grudge
that a ****** deals a russian a hand...
english superstitious enclaves when being
a tourist in Paris...
as someone not from Warsaw...
i did find a lisp of Bulgahov in Moscow...
it was aired... suspiciously silent...
a dog-whistle you might say...

the old capital was in lesser Poland...
greater Poland and its trade ties to
Brandenburg via Posen...
no one was expecting a Winchester to London
shift... the masovians were being
incorporated synonym in tempus (in time)
with what was to become of the pagan Prussians...
the new rulers of lower buxton & saxony...
punk history lessons...
because the northern crusades only took
place due to some people
defending the last pagans of europe...
the lithuanians...
and the marriage was a success...
as was rome...
the crown that was known
as greater poland, lesser poland...
snippet of pomeranian...
and...

when bohemia became integral to
the borders of defining the holy roman empire...
the crown with the grand duchy of lithuania...
perhaps the post-vikings did *****
a brick that founded the basis of Kiev...
but there's also L'viv...
and as one greek said to me...
there's no Istambul where i look...
there's only a Constantinople...

no... the Notre Dame would have survived
the **** occupation...
Paris wasn't bombed...
London though? it's a miracle that St. Paul's
survived... with or without a fire...

all this history and... no history class back
in school... dates that are like cognitive
tattoos... i am almost ashamed of reciting them...
but then i do have a body without ink...
historical infantilism...
who is to cite the h'american constitution,
the declaration of independence...
who is to cite the magna carta...
who is to convene over the Union of Lublin -
signed in 1569 - that created a single state
of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth -
who is to ask this "neo-nazis" these
germ-an-ans... and the Muslims regarding
their Iraqi "beef" with the Mongols?

is this truly infantalism? historical infantalism?
to remember or at least,
ascribe oneself a continued presence
of these events? what if not in skin alone...
the mind is a fickle embryo that's bound
to be ****** into a whirlpool of:
scientific exploration and "gender neutral pronouns"...

because what the hell is worth my attention...
that a battle of Hastings took place in 1066?
what of the battle of Tannenberg in 1410...
then the teutonic knights were fighting a northern
crusade against a converted people from 966...
and their coalition of lithuanian pagans
and the rabble e pluribus unum?

infantilism... i guess it must be infantilism...
just like those people citing the former
glory of the british empire...
and they being the descendents of former colonial
subjects...
but if they're all so oh very serious...
look at my tattoos! look at my historical infantilism!

i too can play this game...
i too can look bleak with surprise:
oh you think that the northern crusades didn't take
place? the only holy ground is the levant?
not the old forests of mother Prussia?
to me... it's historical infantalism...
to most it's... Al-Ḥarb al-Ahliyyah al-Libnāniyyah...
or the Dissolution of Yugoslavia...
or...

that... "thing" in Syria...
i love how the Muslims love to put down Christianity
as not being the religion of the pacified...
hell... even i have heard of buddhist warrior monks...
and they cite!
my good friend Samir loved citing this to me...
when i was going through my apostasy and wasn't
ever going to be confirmed in the church's
bureucracy...
apparently a Muslim in the west knows very
little about the catholics coming from old Rus...
vicinity...
what's that quote he used...
matthew 10:34 - do not suppose that i have come
to bring peace to the earth.
i did not come to bring peace, but a sword...

and my most beloved quote about
a second coming... in the Islamic hadith...
حدیث نماز خواندن عیسی به امامت مهدی‎
the (hadith of jesus praying behind mahdi)
as cited by ibn ibn ibn abu huraiah
ibn ibn ibn allamah sayyid sa'eed akhtar rizvi
ibn ibn ibn jabir ibn abd allah...
ibn ibn ibn al-husayn al-ajiri and many others...

where will the kind sir, descend?
in Damascus... and again that Syria "thing"...
once upon a time i could find a good
quote with regards to the descent...
his hair will appear as if falling pearls...
his tears this that and the other...
in a: once upon a time you could find
everything on the internet without it being
meddled for herr zensor purposes and -
an objective lack of transparency...

i see no better indicator that a second coming
has occured within the dogmatism of Islam...
if you couple the two "stipends" of:
believable wording to be carried on and on...
until a freak accident like the Syrian civil
war occurs...

it was hardly a civil war in the polish-lithuanian
commonwealth...
given how the swedes felt inclined to invade
and lay their deluge...
because the king was a swede in this...
freakish... monarchic democracy....
and of course the ukranians...
and of course add some spice of the ottoman
nibble...

again: isn't this historical infantalism?
i should be... when people have all the right
to excavate as much from the holocaust
and the dead in the water slave, trade...
trade... which implies the middle ground
of misery while two opposing factions prospered...

to write of such things...
and not need a little sense of how infantile it is
or rather: can become?
in an otherwise pedagogic rubric?
like we, really needed to learn of the fact
that england was under roman occupation...
and how that's a reason to be proud...
as somehow related to the modern
aesthetic splendour of the Italians...
of which the modern germans scoff at...
given their mozart and their "****"
of the opera... and how... oh ****... i'm using
their letters... but how the germans nor the polacks...
ever entertained the ancient romans...

again... this most certainly has to be some
variant of infantilism... why would i recite
some distant date...
mind citing a past and dead and gone?
perhaps... i never really figured out a "way out"...
perhaps i was always playing the mole...
and digging trenches...
looking up psychological erosion of:
being just as bad as the "other side"...

or perhaps i'm just the sort of *******-beater
that forgot to fall in love so so hard
that he would be living with a regret
of getting a tattoo of a name: ИЛOНA
on his left collar-bone?

perhaps one of the two!
let's flip a coin!
Dennis Willis Nov 2018
Fruit
Nuts
Vegetables
*****
?

Healthy and
Happy?

HeHe

Yes Mom's and Dad's
I know

am one

Calm yourself
well behaved folk

no need to deliver
the obvious wisdom

been there dispensed that

or do
   you
nee-eed to do that

not here button your fly

glad this isn't a forum
you can't

just sit and watch
life

being lived
not protected

to stillness
hmmph



Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis
(house sand zero, and own nine)

Wine hot ja... jes... justa bead devout
boo... boos...***** hound 'n
frog *** (hic cup) bout...
new yea ears rez: hill loo... dang

(burp) louche huns, eh an...,
and beg... agh hen ah nee new wheel 'ear
as zha roosting gadabout
fra... fru... froom this ska...
ski... skid... row... man hunk scout,

ah so... sub... sober chip... er ...,little
tea...poe... *** short and stout
er... chap, cuz in necks stay...hm...
here...ism handle, and thar hiz muss spout
oh...ha rill lee odd doubt

y'all 'member wha...whi...
whoa, what 'prom says 'eed shout
th... hiss hex 'spurt advice
fro...fru...framed dis lout, yea?

What a difference (in meaning), clear
as hub ba hell...(belch) bell jar quake
obvious, (when one not pull lath ta heard) ,
my...er re... rev vol ting... lush 'n not be opaque,
one alphabetic character doth make
duff France sans, the nineteenth versus twenty

first letter of English... lake
really awesome man, how dog nabit,
I could hood **...hu... hoof accomplished...
rather steal piece o'@$$ er...rather tastykake
alm high ghouls when hide goot awake!

As somewhat (hmm...) not so evident,
one need not be a rocket
surgeon, or brain scientist
visa viz mastercard ****
at effect of one sprocket...
nor a judge explaining gobbledygook

of law to witness in docket,
cuz this po boy haint moost
richly endowed in his pocket,
nor talented ska, rocksteady,
or reggae tunesmith
never earning any moolah, but forced to sell
off each dreaded locket.

Fellow Americans, this poetaster
lacking hocus pocus
not merely here tubby chiefly
as time waster, with locus
of airy mission to plant sole

lee seeded to shift your focus
from aimining to satisfy reVolution verse us
impossible mission couched
as reSolution lest ye be deemed
moost laughable joker, who makes major fuss!
Tipon Mar 2019
Ik zie alleen de dingen die sterven, steen of potlood. De

aanklacht is welluidend, een thema. Er lang bij stilstaan maakt

je dwaas, verdwaasd. Een eed wordt het niet, episch ook niet.

De verblikte beschaving, ver- blikt. De mens leert zichzelf sardien

worden, als hij 't niet al eens was geweest. Het lot kijkt ons toe.


Ik zie alleen de dingen die sterven, wolken en zonnestralen.

Calamiteit, plastic. En herten worden afgeschoten in het bos.

Ik zie alleen de dingen die sterven, werelden vol, theorieën?

Intussen: wie zegeviert? De hieros gamos van tijd en aarde, mens

-usurpator, de vraatzucht. Prehistorie gemoderniseerd, 21ste eeuw.
The International World, 21st century.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
oh!

                                      look here!

                          a blank canvas...

   i sometimes open one
                     up and forget about it...

i scroll through minor
                                  drama on the internet:

i was never a big fan
of soap opera...

  however english...
however ******...
or mexican or turkish...

but given that i'm
drinking a bottle of ol' jack...
i sometimes over-stretch
the "markers"...

bourbon is no whiskey...
and whiskey: who can enjoy
too much of that sort of:
"debating"...

     i have before me
a myopia of sentences...
the far right's: kind sir... sir...
n'est ce-pas: mr. samuel weller?

oink oink rock a boat?
i have lived in england...
well into the count of 2 decades...

who are the natives?
the irish are the natives
of these isles?
are they? i.r.a.
placard and the plantagenet
name: in name alone...

           the scots are the natives?
well sold! this... union of
suppose-we-do-so-and-likewise...
yes?
             i hear... a... ochenaid...
sigh... hark at the CH...
          o"X"e-n'ah-eed...
                      rummagining
for... sparrows... wheelbarrows...
squirrels and rats and cockroaches:
the natives!
i'm looking for the natives!

i must have been... cushioned...
oh too well...
by the irish immigrant population...
back in Goodmayes... Seven Kings...
i don't even want to think
i met a PROP'AH english custom...
of the tongue and patriotism...

always had to mingle with
the irish... the scots...
    somewhat the welsh...
   once i visited Cheltenham...
for the festival... the book awareness:
slogan read:
they're not door-knobs!
  brick would have been just fine...
fine...

             but i never heaved...
to curate myself around...
the ****** diaspora...
one thing "we've" learned...
there's no concept of mafia...
a china town... a mossad...
                the ottoman barbers...

over 20 years in england...
and... yes... i've perhaps met a few...
"locals"...
but the other "locals" have already
treated the locals i've met as...
paving... something...
worth a digression...

       i calls it the irish cushion...
the hard work has already been invoked...
not that... an englishman ever fought...
on the plains of masovia...
but i'm, pretty sure,
    the ****** squadron... 303?
pilots... dog-fights over dover an la manche...

what-a-doodle-do-no-more-doable?
Cheltenham... such ripe...
harvest of... ****** **** pears and plums...
and a little bird asked:
were these fruits plucked...
picked... and stashed for selling...
by Romanians?

my dearest: Dorset!
         my Exeter...
               as "we" all know...
my... my... "my"...
          hardly... speak the tongue of
subservience... make "my" and... "own"...
  subconscious complications
of affairs with an already established...
philately...
                          
can anyone please tell me...
what ING-land... and at what point...
is an E ever stressed?
banking on the mixer...
the letter-stripping: shape in place...
but the sound a bit: 'ffy...
               iffy... i.e. off...
         did some roundabout loops
on the matter...
came back with clues from sahara...
i.e. no footprint...
pretended to **** on the sand...
to ease... some moisture onto
the riddle...

  no dear: rhubarb sprout...
                   but once in a while...
i hear the natives speak...
i've heard the welsh...
i've heard the scots... i've heard
the irish...
  but the ING- and the ĘNG-LEASH...
tow... baron tow a...
            Florida over-ere!
         let's have! Maine!
                      
   king john and the pole:
****** - lack-land...
              ha ha... the fable of richardson...
and big richard... with no whittle...
charlemagne... my my:
         sr.                and no future jr.

will smith in gemini man...
plays... a... incel... killer...
                               will smith as an incel killer...
gotta rock the boat...

colonel hans christian and a heg's...
a statue with a missing leg...
bonkers united...

        i sometimed hear my parents
speak... and being the sort of loser
that still lived into his 30s
as a charcaol - a slave of the solipsistic
adventures of tending to a ****
and some *******...

             the heaven of a mother
and father... and the hell: theremin...
wax job...
a father met a mother...
  the crux of the story...
is that they met...
in a vicinity... a town....
          the story suggests...
they knew: the names if streets...
and the names of cafes...

             mind you... i know
a whittle place... ol' loondon...
on the outskirts...
ballerinas come 'ere most often...
for skate and a chance to
break a ******* leg:
call it a: spot a vaginal floral piece...
come up with a fortune...
selling a...
                     julian grater:
otherwise known as:
                  a peter gabriel album
sleeve... nimb cutting...
         from an eight part series...

      charcoal / graphite / pastel / acrylic /
       bitumen / beeswax / straw...

floral patterns... "somehow"....
revealing / revelling in a crucifix...
               whatever... happened...
to depictions of glorified... madonna...
and the iron maiden?
they will stage coup e'tats on statues...
but not...
the torture instruments of
the state...
the crucifix needs! preserving...
thank god... for the guillotine... no?

i need to heave a lasting...
exhaustion of breath... bound by a tidying
in a crucifix...
gold-mine! a ******* gold-mine!
i see... words like
strobe-light flickering discoteque
"nuances"...

my parents knew... several streets...
and their town was...
a makeshift... Basildon...
i know a different reality...

   Coventry St....
         Beehive Lane...
                   Havering Road...
      i know streets...
little to do with a concept of
bubble... and town...
              this... luquidation of time...
time... well spent...
time... invested... time... abandoned...
they have these shared avenues...
i was supposed to jump ship...
bail-out... find myself a decrepit suitor
of warm womb flesh...
a sparring partner to no tennis...

   and abduct her... with... a foetus...
lavish!
                     suppose there came:
two!
                it was all... formidably:
accurate... in how... the "game" would...
progress...
the loser that i am:
so much for not being homeless...
a lavish drinker of bourbon...
i'm more of a slave...
a curator for cats more than anything...
the 2008 financial crash
didn't bother me...
when... i was rudely woken up
by the existence of soul...
never... make the least concern:
psychosis a waste...
it's not... a l.s.d. "overdose"...

there's something... special...
a temporal... synchronicity about "it"...
the "magic" happens with a loitering...
bravado...
   it happens but it doesn't happen...
at the same time...
you're humbled... without a tenacity of...
being... a forewarning prophet...
there's not memorable time...
shifting forward...

       the persistent prison of all that is...
now... it's a London...
and it's a London with...
say... dull-strapped Sikh done two-ways...
a welcome... proselyte grief
for the jew: having succumbed to islam...
a catholicism: with no necessary
protestant conversion...
no sung anthem... no...
dickensian take on...
a *******... lackey...
there's just: the moderation of...
a... "speech impediment"...
      
  n00b for *******... whenever...
a **** would appear! and...
a face with a beetroot tinge would just so...
happen... to blush... to... keep you away from...
singing in the choir's crescendo!

the looters' choir theme boy:
a **** "bono" wałęsa...
    to have invested in a dynamic
of a foreign currency...
best better: than... in...
made in china... in the metallurgy
exploits etc.
                      i am no patriot...
   a bit like... the jew in new york...
might think himself an israelite...
              how much time away...
among... foreigners...
will make you... inclined...
to return to... "home"...
               israel is about much a home...
as poland is for the diaspora living
away from it...
               there's... a lithuania?
there's a... latvia... an estonia?
                          
israel is like a baltic state...
              of those who do not live in it...
and of those...
cosmopolitan enough...
living outside of it...
  i bless this anchor...
this... dragging my down...
seemingly... insensible...
when... english... puritanical / liberal...
sensibilities... oh god! the french are coming!
continental intellectualism is...
is what it is...

                    two maxims emerge
as modus operandi...
  when the people have lost trust...
in both the media and the politics sham'b'oh...

oculus per oculus: eye for an eye...
and... the golden rule...
      treat others... as you'd want others
to treat you...
           i would be inclined...
to look beside the doorsteps...
of western liberalism...
   the black in mongolia...
and the antithesis of celebrating genghis...

what statue of his... could hear...
the echo... of a... toppling?
                 sooner a horse laughs!
the pristine whip of:
alienation...
               the liberal cuck-mantra...
of western diplomacy...

   somehow iraq was and...
oh don't get me started on libya...
                the posthumous will
of a pristine... resurrected Winston C.!

the terrible price of writing:
you also desire to drink... more...
for all their worth...
the sober... the un-****** pristine angels...
selling matchsticks and pockets
filled with toothpick humour:
for the toothless!

                   i beckon... the details
of both ditto and a filling...
akin to a full...       stop                               .
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
once again: there isn't really anything
to write about:
once upon a time: in those
c'est la vie days of yore -
where people could have
their spontaneous elevations of grandeur
and sophistication -
or a complete lack of it...
whichever whatever...
it was somehow a duty to write
a doodle of rat-scuttling imitation:
not some grand fictive escapism -
but this little bit of nuance here...
this little bit of nuance "there"...
fine fine, fine... in the days of c'est la vie...
hell: it's not like we're going
to revise the original thirst of science:
science as an adventure as primordial as
rock star thrilling -
like discovering new elements:
marie curie and polon and radon -
it just seems when chemistry has exhausted
its quest: the two sciences either side of it:
biology and physics have become...
science fiction or... a... debate...
i want to stress that last word with
a dryness -
biology as some variation of
darwinism - this quest of: forever in theory
but never in polite society a practice -
or otherwise post-theory and so otherwise:
merely talk of weather can be more
entertaining -
when science was adventurous:
when it was tinged with the alchemical -
somehow you could weave in a momentary
lapse of: the desired outcome with
some linguistic mini side projects...
like ☿...        mercury -
then again: jupiter - ♃ -
extending the prospect of 4...
♅ that belongs to... SHA... cyrillic - ш -
and of course ♆ and phi -
- but how isn't one to behave
on-and-off like a solipsist these days...
it's impossible to write anything
when so many people are not living
their very own...
but when **** good pop comes along
i just want to get out of bed...
miley cyrus' midnight sky teasing
at something that could have come from
a tina turner repertoire...
revisiting the 1980s...
it's a song and i feel
myself immersed in that moment of
stepping out from the underground
while heading to camden town...
teasing at the same sort of "hopes"
as: foster the people's sit next to me...
or LP's - girls go wild...
king rat pretending
to scuttle this little me and my d.j. side-project:
ha ha...
i sobered up watching le mans '66
and couldn't believe that: there's this now:
while there was also: that, then...
i drank too much water and
vomited while taking a shower...
seances of a pedestrian executions of:
out-of-every-instance: an insistence -
my definition of existence...
the best pop in: towing a town along a
great breach of desirable plumbing work-arounds...
that science these days is
this rigid statistical beast:
that anything new is so niche add-on specific
and hardly a thrilling escapade...
a pop song can: change a life of not anticipating
a white noise interlude prior to noon
in an instant... which is kept...
what it would feel: best kept secret is
to froth at the value of feelings that can be
mastered - in this current currency
of fudge-packaging of thought: from the on-high
onslaught of a morbid ms. mundane
about: i put on my sunglasses anticipating
white light from the old mythology
of the bomb not dropped for collateral rummagings
of stat...
lips tied to a bottle...
and an arrow shot at a cloud...
something breezy something easily-come-by
a negation of everything except
a revisiting of spontaneity -
contorts in cubism: that someone somewhere
is somehow playing 4D chess...
because the admiration and skewed rhetoric
is just this now and there was a hunger...
me and my filter complications...
sieving a readership thank god:
that there is no automatic picking up of
a tabloid newspaper like:
sitting on a toilet and nothing is missing:
perhaps beside the ******* to leech on
a hatrick on the throne of thrones...
it's so comforting that you only
eed to keep a cat and wait for it
to trigger a process of petting...
when it wants to be petted while you can
ignore it: for the best part: cactus sire...
best kept in the dark like some *******
mushroom...
hardly thought projects with
solipsism as base and side project of so many
people...
come 00:00... a divine adieu
that will also whisper: come tomorrow and
every branch of my little defeatism -
a life a tree which will never come around
a shorthand of a crucifix.
dangling pseudo-apple: corpus christi -
well yes: a pristine revamp of the old testament...
a genius at work...
otherwise                      really?
see words with hieroglyphic clarity -
now that i might overload on emoticon saturation?

— The End —