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olympia May 2014
i sit there with
the cool wind
breezing against my face
while the summer sizzles
on my shoulders

your golden thigh
sticks to my skin
as we drive to the game
every ******* week

the boys
they sit in the back
and pack their lips
and talk **** about
the girls

the girls
who don't realize
that they're their easy targets
who skip around
in their short, tight
dresses

they talk about their waists
and the way they like to moan
every little imperfection
all avail have they shown

they think that it makes them buff
they think that it makes them cool
and i let them light their egos
and sometimes i chirp on too

but yet i sit and listen
and sometimes i think
they don't realize that i'm a girl
too

i don't know how i feel about that
SP Blackwell Mar 2013
I am sitting on a broken branch

under the drug addled canopy of insecurities and lies.

I am feeling the steady sway of an oxycontin daze.

Walking slowly through a ketamine daydream that pulls at my core

like a phantom puppet master controlling my limbs.

It crashes into my brain like the breaking waves on the shore.

Breathing in nicotine filtered filth as I wait to catch a breath of fresh air.

Lungs filled with recycled tar that prevents me from gasping.

In darkened corners where lies sleep and rumors are hidden,

I wait.

I dance on a tightrope between conscious and subconscious

that is held by reality and dreams.

Dark sunglasses on to avoid

the blinding stinging light of what is real.

Mirrored glasses are reflecting the reflections back at intruders.

Deflecting glances, shifty eyes, and dilated pupils

searching for a focus point of truth  

in a neon technicoloured blur of hypocrisy.

The background blaring horns blended with a steady bass line

mimics my heartbeat.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

The fading noises pass quickly,

highlighted with insults and curses of hate and gossip

that are forgotten before you can make them out.

Spun truths turned into lies

intermixed with resin

left from yesterday.

The litter paved streets break under my heels.

Click clack. Click clack.

Broken and cracked

like the false promises

And hopes

And dreams

of those who have walked here before.

The monotonous pace is repeated

only pausing to notice the gum under the stiletto

that fails to hold her in place

as she runs towards the wet cement that has replaced

another sheet of cracked concrete.

The wet cement that has covered another lie

in order to show the simplicity of fake appearances.

A reminder of how easy it is to replace and mask

the hate filled holes that get trampled on.

The flicker of hope is suddenly unseen

like the street light lined alley that is now dark.

The stench of garbage, decay, and rotting flesh

is mixed with expensive perfume, sweat, make-up, and spilled *****.

Garbage cans are filled with the leftovers of last night.

A *** stained dress with no owner draws no attention

as the sound of snapping latex is muffled

by the screams of ecstasy that rapidly fade

like the fleeting feeling of MDMA.

Thick white ****** fluid oozes out like human glue

in an attempt to mend the lack of connection.

Strangers intertwined in hasty conversations

waiting for human contact to forget

that they are in dark alleys.

To forget

that they live in dark places

where no one lays down wet cement.

The distorted reality of alleys deceive passer bys

into thinking that they are not menacing

has been weaved like a web by street sweepers and garbage men.

The pressing sense of the need to avoid the sweepers

is unsaid but felt.

They falsely clean what will always be *****.

The *** filled backstreets yearn for love

like the treacherous woman guarding its corner.

Daddy issue lined dresses are asking to be undone

just like her lost innocence that can never be mended.

The issues and clothing that can never be fixed

abandoned on top of garbage cans for someone else to pick up.

Patches of dead grass are left

untended, unwatered, and unwanted

waiting to be replaced by wet cement.

Wet cement that soon enough will crack and break

under the heavy heated pressure of the stomping heels

of lost Girls in a desolate city.

Blood trickled trails are left behind

that have dried into the cigarette lined streets that lead nowhere.

The injured egos of men are left to linger at back doors

that will never be opened.

******* induced insanity whirls around a flurry

of whispers and paranoia wanting to here the Truth

between the spewed anger and rage of the low toned hushed voices

that wish not to be heard.

Whiskey hinted murmurs pressing on the sidewalk cracks

knowing that they will never be heard.

Looking into the dark where

Truth will never be seen.

The constant beat of narcotic users searching

for salvation in pre-packed bags of white powder,

digging for redemption in empty bottles of multi-colored pills.

Screaming through the silence,

They are not heard.

The desperation can be heard through the whining moans

of the junkies that are tethered to addiction.

The over whelming sound of

Want and Need and Lust

move through the streets like the overflowing gutter water.

Heartbeats are replaced with the impatient pacing of

her stilettos waiting for her pain to cease.

Stilettos stomping on broken dreams

waiting to cross broken streets.

She gazes at the other side as if it is different.

Stilettos tapping on the street

waiting for the firm grasp of a sweaty hand to distract her from reality.

Waiting to be touched

And grabbed

And ******

                                              In hopes that love will arise from ****** ****** encounter with

strange men in uncomfortable places.

Clothes are feverishly removed with the promise of

flesh on flesh enveloped in a hazy cloud of body heat

that warns off the internal coldness.

Heavy breath and touch and kiss release chemicals

to replace the drug depleted emptiness.

The rhythmic sound of rubbing flesh mingles with

the moaning of the streets.

It fuses with the short lived pleasure laden moans of

lonely people and un-climatic *******.

Awkward silences are brief as the sound of her heels owns the street.

Click clack. Click clack.

The sound of stilettos on cement hurriedly walking away when there is

no longer a need for his body heat.

That unmistakable click clack click clack

on uneven, *****, dangerous streets.

Red lipstick smeared stains are the only trace of her that is.

That is the only trace of me that is left.

Click clack steady on the street.

Steady like mimicking bass line

Click clack heartbeat.

The crunch of broken glass under the stiletto

echoes her broken dreams.

Click clack.

Head held high never looking at the ground as she walks forward.

Click clack. Click clack.

Click clack.

The urban mud of

Wet cement goes

Squish!

under her stiletto.



V.Mata
Seán Mac Falls May 2015
Massive egos shine
Mostly drivel on HP
Just Poetastery
Lamest so called writers NOT poets, egos unbridled
egos as round as the vanity mirror's bulbs.
the negative correlation between personality,
and the amount of time spent putting on a face.
now, i don't throw this term around, as it is perhaps
one of the ugliest things you can be, but you are a
Aaron LaLux Mar 2019
What’s up,
what’s going on with you these days,
how have you been where have you been
just wanted to let you know that I still love you,
because I know it’s been awhile,
some would even say forever or at least that's what it feels like,
but forever feels like only a moment when you're immortal,
as an Endless Infinite Being living in Infinity,

tell me,
what’s your truth,
why do you rise in the morning what're the motives for your motions,
do you pray & if you do how do you pray & to whom do you pray to,
& how do you handle the hate & do you always make room for the love,
& why do you struggle at all I mean seriously what’s the use,
stress isn't worth the stress so why subject yourself to what feels incorrect,
instead of this try to relax find some perspective & learn to listen to you,

we've been misled by the stimulants that we're fed,
to believe that material things are more important than human beings,
we worship inanimate objects like they have a life of their own,
which is why instead of making eye contact we just look down at a screen,

checking Facebook Messenger & our Twitter feeds,
preferring to live life vicariously through tweets than to live the real thing,

living life & doing things not for the experience but for the likes it gets,
our only vice is being guided by the eye of the Public's biases,
victims of our own timelines we traded away our sovereignty for notoriety,
what is this society what happened to the days of Prince Ra & Princess Isis,

or more correctly The Days of The God Ra & The Goddess Isis.

Where have the Gods gone?
Are all the Gods gone?

Are we living in a Post-Religion-Apocalyptic Epoch of Existence?

Everything’s possible I guess,

I guess,
either way it isn't worth the stress,
I guess just be blessed & let everything click & fall into place,
because one must confess we are the honest embodiment of much success.

& success comes,
after lots of yes,
so say yes,
just say yes.

& hey Bless what’s up,
what’s going on with you these days,
how have you been where have you been
just wanted to let you know that I still love you,
because I know it’s been awhile,
some would even say forever or at least that's what it feels like,,
but forever feels like only a moment when you're immortal,
as an Endless Infinite Being living in Infinity,

& all these words offer us up everything except apologies,

actually,
fck it,
apologies as well,

there,
I said it,
might as well say I'm sorry because it seems I've said everything else,

so I apologize.

“I apologize on behalf of all men we messed up & I accept that,
but honestly we didn't know what else we were supposed to do,
& please don't misconstrue this apology as an excuse,
because there is no excuse for the way we gave away all this abuse,
it's just we were fatherless all our were leaders lacked commonsense,
& this miscreants mislead us into thinking that is was cool to mistreat you,
so we lost our morals & all common decency as we lost our commonsense,
& you didn't bother to tell us either because you're as lost as us too,
so on behalf of all men I apologize in all my honestness,
but honestly we didn't know what to do see we were as lost as you.”,

in this microcosm somewhat awesome mini-universe called Los Angeles,

in this mini-universe called Los Angeles,
we lost our angel wings,
in a place where everything seems easy,
but then again nothing is what it seems,
navigating through the soulless glows of low neon egos,
plastic smiles & absent minded sidetracks with high self esteem,
where good ideas meet bad company & they make a movie out of it,
& you can sign a contract for millions but can't buy backs your dreams,

see its seems,
we are all sleepwalking in this day dream,
& truth be told sometimes all I want to do,
is walk down the hill I'm on from Mulholland to Hollywood Blvd. & scream,

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAH!”,

it must be so liberating to be a mad man,

but these days,
in most cases crazy is dismissed as lost,
meanwhile Madmen on Television make bad decisions,
while still portraying the American Dream slogan that “Money is Boss.”,
& therefore you should make more at all costs,
but what good is made if while your getting paid but your soul is getting lost?

What good is money,
without peace of mind,
because you can’t escape yourself no matter how much money you make,
or how many drugs you take because you can't get away no matter how high,

so even if you forget all of this because of short term memory loss,
remember that fact even if you don't remember why,

see before I had money,
& I’d complain about inequality & they'd  call me bitter,
& after I got money,
& complained about inequality they called me hypocritical,

well,
you can make some of the people happy all the time,
& all of the people happy some of the time,
but you can’t make all the people happy all the time,

ah well,
I never asked to be their abused Muse anyways,
nevertheless I became a slave to my art was consumed too soon,
& the same thing that had freed me made me enslaved,

& I've got so much more to say,
but I'm simply exhausted right now & can't continue to elaborate,
because it's been a long night I'm tired,
& I just want to find a place to lay my God what a day,

what a day,
what a day it’s been,
feels like it’s been days since I’ve seen you,
lifetimes even,

please come see me,
I've got so many reasons for you to visit,
& you've got not one reason not to,
so please come at once I insist that you come this instant,

come check in before we both check out,
& when you arrive I will only have one question & it's this,

“What's up?”,

what’s up,
what’s going on with you these days,
how have you been where have you been
just wanted to let you know that I still love you,
because I know it’s been awhile,
some would even say forever or at least that's what it feels like,
but forever feels like only a moment when you're immortal,
as an Endless Infinite Being living in Infinity...
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
PJ Poesy May 2016
}I{
“Sinuhe”

King Khety is blinking madly
Haruspex has left him ominous oracle
Sinuhe is on his return, fugitive no more
Sinuhe brings with him enemy’s daughter
Not prize, Nefru his wife and Libyan lore
Sinuhe from slavery came, poet she did adore

Egyptian tombs do tell in detail
Hieroglyphic tales, this juncture of peril
Khety not King, but Sinuhe’s noble brother
Knows true King come to claim throne
Sinuhe the nobler, knows a life of none other
Than slave sold by Odious, the step-mother

Yes Queen Odious, deep in den of asps
Collected poison venom to undue her marriage
To Sinuhe’s father Merikare, Pharaoh of Moon
Odious’ ghastly act nearly tore Egypt in two
Her derangement sent Sinuhe far across sand dune
Odious took crown, added gilded teeth of baboon

Made her son King, though he did implore
Khety saw insanity and for what, he was in store
Khety remembers his Great Father’s words
“The heart of someone who listens to his temper
Is doomed to follow the stink of camel herds
Better to let heart fly upon sky, as do birds”

Yet by years tormented, Khety became undone
More like his mother and even more sniveling
Than the Odious one, so he did as he was told
Incessant dribbling marked a life for him
He minded his words lest he knew he’d be sold
Mother’s high priest Abhorus was bitter and cold

Sinuhe’s struggles were unknown to King Khety
Years of near starvation and wearisome labor
Made Sinuhe the better man, as he did never forget
Assurances of his noblest Father, Pharaoh Merikare
Virtue ascribed, Sinuhe kept valor in each trial met
Furthermore, his noblest task still to come as of yet



}II{
“Numidian Queen”

Nefru, Numidian Queen to Land of Libya
Recalls young slave Sinuhe’s hostility to captivity
His intelligence overcoming, who once would be King
Of Egypt had not violent arm but ferocious mind
Using wit to overcome adversity and words he did sing
To free his self of internment and all oddity it did bring

Nefru looks upon loyal husband Sinuhe
It is an arduous journey this man has taken
Her commitment be bound now by ivory ring
Loyalty to this man before all forsaken
It is spring, and amongst abundant life come dead things
Fledgling birds first flight failed or so siblings did fling

Now swept into his pilgrimage, Nefru perceives
All adversity Sinuhe did overcome so nobly
To her, he is chukar, partridge of rare plumage
It is to the ground, which this bird be bound
Never reaching sky, low brush be its’ *******
Though its’ song give to her heart an anlage

Freedom from slavery, is Sinuhe’s triumph
Vindication of crown be the mark of new flight
He prays to Horus Behudety, Winged Sun God
Nefru knows of her husband’s will and might
She gifts to him her father’s pinioned golden rod
Scepter of enslaver Mehru, and his feathered shod

It was not of great agreement by Mehru
Should his daughter Nefru marry a slave?
Much less to son of Merikare, an arch enemy
Yet he be so brave, impressions of Sinuhe’s strength
Be made so to change, very nature Sinuhe’s destiny
So much so, Mehru did lament in Merikare’s elegy

So it came to be, a slave marries Queen
Sinuhe and Nefru’s love broke all patterns
Such a love to win hearts of, Gods and Goddess’ unseen
Who rule other worlds and all rings of Saturn
History had never known affection so purely clean
Gatherings from far off fields came to witness such glean



}III{
“Haruspex And Detritus”

Haruspex, soothsayer speaks in half-truths
King Khety believes only small contingent
Be on way to Byblos, presently approaching Qedem
Little does he know, armies of Elephant in tow
Masses of feathered and golden archer’s stem
Blessed by breath of Bat, Goddess and her phlegm

Detritus, Animal Man, hired scout to King Khety
Possesses claws and hair of lion, his home Serengeti
Animal Man’s mane is thrashed in thorns and rubble
Smells of cat ***** but has nose that knows much
Such why Detritus be tolerated, though be much trouble
Haruspex twists tale of tailed man, speaks of him double

Calls him lazy, shiftless, yet Haruspex be cryptic mess
Detritus be banal yes, but true to Khety none the less
Knew his father well, Merikare be his master
It was always Queen Odious, Detritus distrusted
Knowing her demonic betrayal and Egypt’s disaster
She kept him in gypsum cave, scratching alabaster

Kindness had left this Kingdom sometime ago
When Odious and Abhorus overthrew rule
Merikare Moon Pharaoh mummy cry from tomb
Sinuhe ripped from his side by Abhorus
His funeral a very mockery and Detritus’ doom
Haruspex made way from Libya, eyes mucous rheum

Planted by Mehru, Haruspex be sent through desert
King of Libya be wise, sent this oracle as disguise
Not soothsayer at all but spy of opposition
King Mehru knew upon Moon Pharaoh’s death
Peace upon land would not soon come to position
Quickly he sent Haruspex, strangest magician

Detritus knew by the first smell of him
Haruspex came from earth west, not with best
Intentions to natural order of land and sky
And this test of two egos be quite perplexed
With each other and another reason why
This brawny epic riled through years gone by



}IV{
“Ode ‘O’ Odious”

Motioning her battalions, priests and beasts
Evil Queen who overthrow, joins Abhorus’ feast
Beldams be this clergy, **** all about Odious
Snapping of rabbits heads in cacophony of blood
Plunking chalices of malice’s, sacrifices melodious
All in dark chamber halls in depth’s commodious

Stretching of intestine to fine tune harp
Butchers waylay innards with daggers sharp
Mawkish music be Odious’ fame
Concavity’s entrance a perilous scarp
Passers-by enticed by bergamot oil’s flame
Fall to their death to be eaten by dame

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Drunken mayhap through day and nightcap
She rumpus muck, she ruckus all luck
Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Chambers fill with all matter of bile guck
Bites cobra tails, hooded heads protrude to ****

Death be her power to innocence’s pain
Queen Odious oblivious to her own danger
Seems unstoppable to submissive subjugates
Spinning her terror, cackle calls to maidens
Fem ferocious, how ‘O’ Odious undulates
Casualties collected in long hundredweights

Probity of her high priest be none
Abhorus puppets Odious and will be done
With her second rare blue water lilies run out
The Nile produces this flower of intoxication
Extinction of it is of all certainty, no doubt
Named after her, O Odious flora beguiles lout

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
It is Evil Sorceress and midnight blue flower
Power of it be all in her high flighty head
She misuses its’ tincture to her own final hour
Harvesting it foolishly, nearly till it is dead
And when it is, it will be to all worlds’ dread



}V{
“Oasis In Iaa”

Sinuhe receives word elephants parched
Water need be found, arduous trek campaigned
Nefru never witness such worry, Sinuhe’s face
Ox tail be split to drain nourishment from beasts
No water for miles, no sea birds upon sky to trace
Sinuhe prays, “Montu, God of War find oasis to race!”

Sekhmet, Archer Goddess visits Nefru
Great Lady is besieged by dessert’s spell
Hallucinations bring mirage to Nefru’s sight
Transfixed on dessert’s horizon her eyes
Contingents warriors, bands of archer’s fright
Paths set forth, only to journey by starlit night

At dawn Sinuhe strands his band
Takes his most devoted men of arms
Bhaktu, Parsi, Rhaktu, follow their Lord
Each having faith in man and his wisdom
Eastward they find Syrian tribe in horde
They are welcomed, none need draw sword

Master of Syrian tribe Abu Sefa
Understands who Sinuhe is and was
Orders falconers to find Nefru and throng
Apprises Sinuhe of oasis beyond hummocks
All are soon joined together in wine and song
Oasis found, Iaa, fruited land and lagoon long

Khety is warned of revelry in Iaa
Sends legions Egyptian arms, by order Odious
Anubis, jackal head God given zebra sacrifice
Detritus employed for battle with spears
Copper shields, mediocrity will not suffice
All swords be sharpened by order thrice

Lifeblood battle of Egypt ensues
Sinuhe taken off guard in Iaa,
Elephant screams to be heard for miles
Bhaktu cut down, Rhaktu not found
Parsi’s archers never saw such trials
From lagoons come seething crocodiles



}VI{
Twist Of Fate

Rensi was chosen by Abhorus to speak for Khety
As High Priest, Abhorus did most doling of employs
This proxy Rensi though, be mockery of King
His speech more stammered than Khety’s noise
Grossly disfigured as well, soundings as mice sing
Rensi aware of this, musters all dignity he may bring

Perigee moon at present, o howling now
Hyena laughing at dissertation of Khety’s proxy
Ill ease overcomes this Rensi, an impediment
Speech undone on terrestrial stairs to Memphis
Escalades flora, fauna; monsoons washing sediment
Tefnut, great rain goddess turns world to excrement

This not so illustrious disquisition muted
By torrent winds and torrential liquid compounds
Tefnut’s tears plunk upon all, turning mud blood
Looking out from his great house Khety embroiled
Bares soul to Sobek-Re, Crocodile God; Sun and Crud
Sobek-Re answers prayer, suspending flash flood

In Iaa, as gore of battle ensues, fate lose
As twist of tale find new bemuse and worlds infuse
Detritus sees his lost master Sinuhe encroaching peril
This recognition swells an emotion deep and confuse
Detritus bent in memories flash reacts nobly not feral
With a roar to be heard over all, clamor become sterile

Sounds of battle cease and gaze of majesty
Sinuhe seeing Detritus is overcome by sensibility
Two old beloved friends stare upon each other
Dragging swords behind each move to indemnity
Embrace of each other; secures allegiance another
Sinuhe kisses feet of Detritus; calls him “brother”

As witness to such, all weary legions unite
Moon turn blue, assured sign of Pharaoh Merikare
Mehru’s star battalions federate Moon Pharaoh’s armies
Together as one to Memphis they shall siege Khety
Overthrow Queen Odious and her sinister parties
This mainly being High Priest Abhorus’ autocracies



}VII{
Epitaph Of Detritus

Odious in lair drinks tinctures blue water lilies
Abhorus her advisor suggests only more intoxicants
Khety is shrilling at sight of this deceptive lure
Haruspex makes prophesy of Detritus’ betrayal
Khety sends hunters to trace Animal Man’s spoor
Abhorus finds more legions of archers to procure

Leaving Iaa and moving toward Memphis
Detritus is fitted by Nefru’s maidens new armor
Embroidered with gold, a striped khat is made to adorn
Detritus is humbled by Sinuhe and Nefru’s gifts
His body is perfumed and oiled; his mane then shorn
Beholden to the true King of Egypt, Detritus is sworn

Two men of different lands, both once slaves
Overcome their adversities and rise upon sun
Sinuhe and Detritus’ bond is legitimately noble
Wearing of these worlds bare them new providence
Seemingly this union appears fortuitous global
Keeping steadfast of Abhorus’s archers now mobile

In Sakkara, south of Memphis come tempest
Raining arrows as if raindrops, Sinuhe’s challenge
Detritus’ valor finds reckoning to his last will
Defending Sinuhe, Detritus falls to cumulating
By strength this virtue witnessed, Sinuhe rise still
Throwing down legions of archers, making his ****

Abhorus, Odious, and Khety with no troops left
Surrender to Sinuhe upon his return to Memphis
Odious drinks last vials blue lily tincture, expires
Abhorus struck dead by hand of Khety in resolve
Khety bows to Sinuhe and his Queen as requires
King Sinuhe , Queen Nefru read parchments and fliers

In honor of great Detritus and his noble deeds
Commissioned is greatest sculpture Animal Man
During its’ long construction, most joyful jinks
Song and dance to honor a great warrior true
Each artisan so proud to have heritage to links
Of Animal Man, Detritus, now known as Sphinx
This is my adaptation of The Tale Of Sinuhe. It is the oldest known work of Egyptian literature. This epic poem was written by me with the intent of creating a puppet opera. I hope to collaborate with other poets, musicians, artists and puppeteers to see this come to life. Between each chorus should be arias which embellish the plot and theme. If you may be interested in working on this piece, please let me know via private message. I hope to make it a collaborative work.
TS Ray Nov 2019
Flying without abandon,
spinning a spider web, or
saving the day by coming out at nights,
it”s not my powers to be.

I keep no magic secrets,
I drink no miracle potions,
I have no alter egos,
I own no extra fittings.
I just believe.
Just like you believe.

Being your own super hero,
telling your own heroic tales,
crafting your own wins from odds,
no trip to Gotham City is needed for that.

Knowing your intuition,
trusting your gut,
feeling a pinch,
holding to clinch,
the pearl of an oyster
from the deep blue life,
it’s what my force will be.

So, how deep is your oyster at? :)
Ankit J Chheda Nov 2012
I can’t seem to shut the noises in my head,
Replaying all the words said,
I’ve been trying hard to avoid it all
From the moment the fight began to the end,
But this friction is wearing me out,
It’s making me sad and crippled,
I feel like I am dying inside,
There is no safe place to be,
All these egos clashing,
All these talks of unfulfilled expectations,
Everyone wanting the other to be as per their definition,
The putting on of fake mask in front of you,
To hide what I want to say in fear of another riot,
Inside I fight myself to be what you expect,
Outside I act like what of me I feel other’s expect,
I’m a loser in the race of what people decide is best,
Of what people think is fun and what they think everyone should have.
I fear I’m not like metal, which bends to the smith’s will,
But I’m like glass, hard enough to sustain the weather,
But ready to break when the blow strikes.
sian Feb 2019
do you know how it feels?
to have to look a certain way?
to act a certain way?

do you know how it feels?
to fight against a backwards mentality?
to be sexually objectified?
to keep quiet to appease fragile egos?

do you know how it feels?
to be treated as though you are replaceable?
to be treated as though you are incapable of possessing your own entity?

do you know how it feels?
to be treated as though the best thing you have to offer is between your legs, rather than what circulates within your mind?

do you know how it feels... to be a woman?
Savy Sep 2018
I was mad.

I was mad about being second best.
I was mad about taking a second place in your heads.
I was mad about what you discussed behind my back.
I was mad about realising how mad it all made me become.

I was sad.

I was sad about how excluded you made me feel.
I was sad about how vulnerable I had let myself become.
I was sad about not feeling as important to you anymore.
I was sad because I felt so alone without you.
With you.

I was tired.

I was tired of seeing them push me aside.
I was tired of being interrupted for your gains.
I was tired of being used to broaden your shoulders
And widen your egos
I was tired of seeing her face and hearing you laugh at her words.

I was wounded.

Wounded because you left me all alone when I needed you.
Wounded because you chose them over me. And her.
Wounded because I had finally found my place and they took it from me.
Wounded because my mistakes were haunting me.
Wounded because you were hurting me, neglecting me, rejecting me.

Now you've come back to me.

Come back like I predicted.
Come back like none of this ever happened.
Come back like she was never here.
Like I never asked you that question.
Come back like we were never different.
Come back like my heart is still yours and yours is still mine.

And now you smile at me,
Talk to me,
Laugh at me like nothing ever happened, nothing ever changed.
Like we will still remain
The same
And I don't know what to think anymore
Other than what love is made of.
Virtuous Aug 2018
Trying my best to do a job
And follow rules set in place
And peoples attitude
And entitled egos im supposed to just take
Because hey
“The Customer Is Always Right”

To give service with a smile
Even to the one screaming profanities
To reward bad behaviour
And give in to such insanity  
But hey
“The Customer Is Always Right”

To be nice to the creeps
That come in every week
I already told you
The answer is no!
So please leave me alone
But hey
“The Customer is Always Right”

What happened to honor?
Dignity and Respect?
I’m horrified at the lack there of
I know im not the only one
drumhound Nov 2013
(We were called the HUGI TWINS - pronounced hoogie - we still are :-))

We were joined at the mustaches
Of chocolate milk
And giggles
Daring preschool to challenge us
On the ****** journey
Of out-of-mommy's-sight.  

I sat next to him
Immediately taken
By his first words
"What's YOUR name?"
Like he had one he had to share
But knew it wasn't polite
To just blurt it out.
In those three words
He owned me
Whether he wanted to
Or not.  

We authored world conquering agendas
On short chairs
And nap mats
Giving away all our secrets
In shouting whispers of confidentiality
(Consistently amazed
Of our teacher's Prophetic thwarts).  

Batman and Robin plagarized us
For we were unity
Inseperable
Born to co-dependency
Birthed to this bond
Which we wore like an arrogant badge
Making jealous
All the other 5 year olds.  

Inside the doors
Of lower education
We were royalty.
In the outer world
We were famous explorers
Almost too famous
Passing on the one adventure
That caved in
On three of our friend's lives.  

The alley was the highway to everything -
The playground
The market
And Russell's house.
Russell was older
Cool
And our friend.
He made us important
Until we "matured"
And became the new cool.
Southside
That's how we ride
(ok, bike...).  

But then it happened  

My crime-fighting cohort
Was taken captive
By menacing parents
And forced to move
Across town.  

I would cry as he pulled away.  

Small towns
And single high schools
Demand one fact -
There will be a reunion.  

In the same marble halls
Which echo with the footsteps
Of our fathers
The dynamic duo reignite.  

Our chariot was legend
As the Hugimobile
In Starsky and Hutch red and white
Became our calling card.
Filled with flying manes
Obscure sports paraphenalia
And healthy egos
The Show was on the road.  

The residue of living was co-owned
In the trenches
His closet was mine
My closet was his.
Everything was communal -
Ideas
Girlfriends
Jobs.
We got our nickname
Buckin' hay
And selling family bibles
Door to door
Stopping with each victory
To generate business for DQ
One cherry coke and cone
At a time.  

But those are things -
Granted
Good things
But things nonetheless.

He is more
Than good things.
He is the anchor
Of faithfulness.
He wields forgiveness
Like a shield.
When others cut and run
He picks me up
Not only from enemy hurts
But from hurts that I have caused
On my own.  

Without reward
He has eaten the burnt goods
Of my friendship
And smiled.
He introduced me to humility
For which I can never repay.
We are forever friends
Because he is forever benevolent.
And when I In these years
Find that tender boy
Fallen
He looks at me and says
"What's YOUR name?"
Strengthening I in my spirit
I reply "Hugi Twin"
Then remember I am something
Because of that unmerited favor.
vircapio gale Mar 2014
1.

dear feminism,
do i think of women
when i write to you?

why do i personify?

angry at an unjust world,
angry at injustice in ourselves,
have i been taught to fear you?
ignore inequity of fears?

or hide  
in the shadows of your salty curves
speaking soft with sycophantic tilt?

was this what mother meant,
portending talk of therapy
two decades in advance?

a bouy on three waves,
i crash against protuberances too:
limp didactics on avoidance for the victims,
waking in continuums of shrugging crime.

sameness differs in utopias --
every latent gut avers the right to spill.
despite the lissome quell forgetfulness contains,
my proper sphere will leave me
deafened in a wrack-dry
tidal echo--
'Fairness' stains clear beauty dark
as my imagined egos drown at last
from down our oceanic well of shame.

sacrifices fade,
i cannot write...
i write, and fail,
defined by sediment cliche,
reading women authors out of obligation ..odd desire,
and so in dim medieval-fashion
miss
the trail of monoliths erected
for a craven ease

2.

dear civil rights,
why were you taught
through prisms of boredom?
my voiceless reading left you to your rage,
while i communed with glossy nature,
private leaves.

how dare i clap your back
"congratulations"
at your tidy givens  granted
scars were open past my seeing,
and bleed still

while right here, empathy dies, now

dreams are bombed,
grafted to infected faculties
to wallow tended in a garden of injustice
erudite and dead,
i **** a bit i tell myself then stuff my face with food,
cover breath with smoke
and sleep in sour ignorance
no courage left to care.
blind grins bouquet the status quo
of rotted stems, discarded roots

i bury you with homeland fear
the killing silence filled with just intentions
for tomorrow

3.

dear feminism,
you speak for me, too--
my genderless ear attunes

cathartic sweep of ills
scaled beyond your other selves,
sexing into common chosen songs

no fearful tremble
at a mainstream backdrop reprimand--
to be a good gender,
--this gender not that gender--
gestate bigotry of symbol wombs,
cut ripe to cater to unquestioned whim;
no violent selfhood requisitioning
to closet inner innocence in pain

contractions shock in further waves
i midwife simple hope i hope
true fairness you have nursed in seeing death


4.

dear punk **** feminism,
marginal i ask as i perform
unstructured sutras on my heart
exemplar of a meta-freedom
burning in the core of threaded ages strung--
how then life without your voice,
vast silence unobserved,
the hidden anti-*** persisting
in our gender-theory--theorizing sterile norms--
sweet pulsing concupiscence
in our every waking breath
a pollinating zephyr tease toward
celebrating every feotal bathtub bliss --
unbridled ideologies unleashed
unmade into opining din

5.

dear temperance,
i vote you cherished
whirlwind
singing endless through the ageist ridicule
apparent failure in the civil warrior's eye
dogma blinks
denial of the rights you suffered for
but underneath compassion all along
i rally in your family's younger gaze
staring down,
questioning the steady rhythm of a whiskied fist

6.

dear feminism,
have i been taught to celebrate you?
have i been taught to fear for you?
have i been taught to treat you as a woman?
why do i personify you?
like some Sophia cybered up atop the forums of our age

blind and failing
i would be dust as well
like any rightful fading into dust
be swept along with all coercive screenings,
fear-born silences
immune to reason and the reasons of the heart--
rather than to live forgetting
letting go the questions giving rise to equals in a discourse
revising what it means to ask the meaning of


#
dear feminism,

when you are gone..
i for one will sing you
hope

to protest bigotry
a raging tranquil step
of care-filled voicing

dare an upward sloping arc
a dream becoming shared
to overcome
attain
inspired by once unfamiliar names

i will still be here,
the angry feminist
burning in my flagging underwear

brightest outrage at injustice
your deeper loves, fairness
selfhood honored
as if written in the stars
or ancient shorelines
-- you will not be gone
"She says, he wrote it--he says, she wrote it." -Lucretia Mott, speaking to the collaborative efforts of J S Mill and Harriet Taylor
K Balachandran Mar 2016
1.Emotional obesity

Her enlarged ego, she proudly wore
as if it was an impregnable armor
what an observer could see was
an emotionally obese siren on the prowl.
her mate too was thoroughly
compatible  to her,
when they danced, two enlarged
egos rubbed in a way really wrong.

2.Ego trouble
Every ego is different in shape, size and measure
but in essence all egos are capable of making troubles.

3.Killing ego
Killing ego isn't about blood and gore, it's good riddance,
that's the way to make light go euphoric, proliferate.

4.Ego goes in to a bag

Every individual ego soon  finds on its own,
an equally capacious ego bag to carry it around.

5.System breaker
When an ego problem seeps in to a system,
it'd establish it's nuisance value; helps to easily sell it.
jeffrey conyers Jan 2014
Not all men insecure because their spouse makes more money.
The man just happy to have a loving partner.
It's those males with sensitive egos.
Who complains about his lady bringing home more bread?

Who let the old role of a man dictates to them?
While many males isn't lumped together with them.

Take those ladies at the top.
They don't brag about it.
Because they earned the position to be there.

And don't need anything or anyone to  uplift them.
They solely believes action speaks louder than words.

Yes, many males comfortable with a working spouse.
That's just more percentage of money to assist in helping the finances of the house.

You might read an article of two.
Boasting of a woman in a man's field.
Or, what it use to be?

And look closely at the writer.
It's mostly written probably by a woman.
Who first brought up the subject of making more than most men.

Except , many aren't upset.
If they know she has the experience.
RatQueen Jul 2018
I think we've found
an understanding
A common ground
Island in sea
I dont want you to feel shorted
So listen to me now
This is so important

When it comes to you and comes to me
I know there was uncertainty
But I also know how things are now
What we feel is more than what we usually allow
ourselves
And Its okay to let it come
And I could tell that you just wanted someone

So let me in you're the only one who can
I may be the only one who understands
Its okay to not have a plan
Its enough to simply be a man

I've never wanted
Something more
Don't hide the flaws
That I adore
No need to try
And fit a mold
These are more than just
Some words I've told

And I know that
You're very smart
But you embrace the brain
And hide from heart
I've hurt you, and you've hurt me back
For egos sake and what we lack

We can't take back all the mistakes
But Amy said
Its where you're at, not where you've been
And Its okay to let it come
And I could tell that you just wanted someone

So let me in you're the only one who can
I may be the only one who understands
Its okay to not have a plan
Its enough to simply be a man

I don't want to run your life
Or even be your wife
As much as I just want you to know
That I empathize
Its intimidating when something feels so good
Scared it isn't healthy or that you neglect the things you should
But you can't deny
And I would never lie

So let me in you're the only one who can
I may be the only one who understands
Its okay to not have a plan
Its enough to simply be a man

Its okay to let it come
I could tell that you just wanted someone
Its okay to let it come
I could tell that you just wanted someone
songwriting
Daniel Wetter Oct 2014
I look with worried eyes, at social Vines, of flashing lights and a lack of rights.
Human compassion is lacking where it needs to be.
Hate feeds off of hate,
but if thats all it takes,
then love should come so easily.

Bashing in windows.
Spraying with mace.
Choking to death.
Eliminating race.
Classes are gone,
So classless mistakes,
are now made daily
at the hastiest rate.

We’re starving and hungry for the tastiest taste,
of what has become the most delicious
most suspicious,
vicious,
fishy,
repetitious,
superstitious,
vision named freedom.

It's naive to think we’re free when all that we see,
is a sea of beings not being one thing,
and that’s free.
When was the last time you felt it?
And we’ve been given a life long song and dance of "whoever smelt it dealt it".
So if you took the feeling of now and held it,
bottled it up and shelved it,
you would open up to find your mind in decline.
This moment was better
while laters behind.
Thats the path that we’re on
but we have control.
We’re not egos and clothes,
we’re people of souls
We're humans of thought
Not students of hate.
Evil got a head start,
but now truth is in the race.
And if truth is in your face,
and you choose to look away,
then get used to the abuse
and not confused at truce-less fates.
The pre action of action is thinking to act.
I'm thinking that actually we’re ready to snap.
They’ve bent us too far,
for us to go back.
The past is a place where patterns attack.
And people are put
no matter the facts.
Police are afoot
demanding the last,
of freedoms they take them,
and **** them with gas.
A historical scene on Kentucky blue grass
these colors don't bleed,
yet we see they fade fast.
We’ve exceed the need,
to keep things intact.
Got tired of seeing videos online of Police abusing people. What's it REALLY going to take?
one who basks in the soft heat of grandiose moonliness
growing fatter on honeyed imaginations
their sicklysweetness soaking through the pores
of countless generations
their minds invade a collective consciousness
burning arcs of inspiration – torches of the collective vision
in drilling through mutual experience
great gaping black holes of creation
effigies of super-egos, lynched on altars of desire
neon flames and disco lights, emotions on a massive pyre
maiden voyagers on never-ending cruise
sinking in foreign oceans – their endurance dupes
minor gods of destiny and fate they await
dionysian ****** of wine and food for thought
and hearts that beat in unison
a schizoid muttering that enlarges and deafens
manic pleasure that spins and spins
in eternal circles of pleasure and pain, loss  and gain
opioid mists that dream a dream of everlasting name
an addiction an obsession that sumbits
to some masochistic drive
to empathize.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
        06.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
”The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.” - Christopher Morley
Paul R Mott Apr 2012
When I look within my arms, there’s nobody there.
No head on this shoulder, it doesn’t seem fair
for the chauvinists and players to always have a girl.
While the nice guy sits alone, the only pearl
in an ocean of sharks and poison, waiting
for the unsuspecting to bite on this strange thing
called love, shared between those too drunk
to drive, but still steering their lives into the abyss
where there are no pearls and no lifelines to save them.
But still they plunge deeper, fated to do it again.

Only time will expose the light of day
and they will blink their eyes and say,
what was I thinking?  What was the point?
and finally they realize what they really want.
But all that’s left are the sharks with their egos to flaunt.
So they pick one and get used to the bitter ocean.
They keep up this lie in order to go on.
And then when the tide finally rolls in,
they can’t swallow their pride anymore
so they choke on reality and swim to shore.

But there is no pearl necklace to hide their past-
no amount of make-up to hide their last
affair.  Its mark will always mar that perfect face.
And when they’re finally ready to find a pearl in this dangerous place
he’s been snatched up, made his own mistakes,
gone places impure, and hard to erase.
So these crimes of adolescence can withstand the waves
and wear away at the innocence sending us closer to our graves
Stealing away the weak and repeating the cycle.
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
i want to feel the rush,
the tingly fireworks under my skin,
the buzzing sparks of awakeness.
i want to feel the bubble burst in my chest.
i want to dance. i want to ride the music
like a rollercoaster,
i want the thrill of the next drop,
the next wave of euphoria
pulsating through my veins
like electric current conducted by
all the goings-on around me
i want your energy and my energy
mixing together in the air around us
like a glittery galaxy milky-way aura,
a sanctuary of our own vibrations,
a place where our hearts are huge
and our egos small.
a place of peace, of love,
of unity, and respect,
of higher elevations
and acceptance for all.
can't we just do drugs?
Adam Childs Mar 2015
We little light footed ants
are free from  giant egos
as we throw them off and live
within our tiny bodies
And we find that we have
so much room,
so much room.
As we keep gravitating in
a  love towards each other.

We work within an almost
sacrificial love for one another
This love so strong that
permeates our bodies it willingly
carries many times its weight freely. 
As we find a freedom in a devotion
as we build a great life together.

Sometimes we let go of understanding
the world and humbly live close to
what feels a boundless earth.
As we realize with a beautiful
simplicity that much of the world
is above.
And we understand however big you
build your ego God and the big picture
have an understanding so much greater.

We see however elaborate your system
however beautiful your tower it is the
lubricating love which enables the whole
thing work.
We live with perfect honor with each other
as we build our empire on stone which
will never crumble.
Many giant egos show us disregard as they
think nothing of stamping on us.
But being humble beings we simply slip
between the many cracks of this world and
remain completely unharmed.      


We know it is the being without ego
that finds himself so surrounded with
so much space and finds so very easy
to find his place.
Empty of ego we are drawn together
with so much love for one another
we just cannot get enough of each other.

As we build great structures almost invisible
to us which can only really be seen by giant
beings like Gods we feel our importance.
And as we work for this higher picture we
we cannot see we all merge together within
an unquestionable trust that always serves
the greater.

Living on a tiny point we feel the worlds
stresses collapsing infinity to a point.
Bursting balloons all pressures released
our souls sits back on energetic sofas.
Sitting on this micro dot we dance and rest
upon this junction spot.

So as we fumble and tumble around within
our daily routine choosing not to be tall
but to be born small.
Within a endless love threaded through million
of busy connecting little legs we work closely
together.
And in a deep cooperation we feel a
fusion as together we feel complete
in one giant heartbeat.    

There is so much to be admired in the
beautiful busy working ant.
I don't like the way it starts but i think it gets going i will return to it I am sure
I am grateful for the paths that have been wrote onto pages, I am aware of my ignorance to my pre-generations
I am in tune with reality though I seek to change it
I am in control of my own and bleed out ink to the nation
I respect myself first and all others past
I seek to understand first, I seek peace alas
I choose not to fear egos of man on this plane
For that Is no script of redemption from pain
William J. Crowell
April 28, 2012
1.
I'm sorry for your Pain
Surely it has made your scared
And surely not all of it is fair
But know it's only in your mind
And it makes you one of our kind
I'm sorry for your Pain

I'm sorry for your Allergies
or any other problems
Disease is unjust as this life
And those that aren't undone
Can take life as quick as it comes
Or faster, it some cases
I only hope that my disease
That unto yours, erases
I'm sorry for your Allergies

I'm sorry for your Inequality
If I had one and you had two
I'd walk right up and say thank you
If you had two and I had one
It would not be, I would just run
But, Oh! I lament that it is so
For I have all, and I do know
People in our world fight to live
People in our world fail to live
Simple differences account for some
Tell me how you have come undone
Into a world in which our fear
Makes people want to not be here
I love you more, but that's not now
I cannot express, infinitely how
I'm sorry for your Inequality

I'm sorry for the Night
If ever it is dark outside
And you feel under pressure
Believe that darkness is alright
Believe that there is love in the absence of the light
You cannot see, but I love it
Darkness is who I am
Darkness is why we have some light
Darkness is what I am
And you are light, well, it is so
Always in my own eyes
Without darkness, if only light
There would be no surprise
I'm sorry for the Night

I'm sorry for your Misconceptions
Gradual pain lacking detection
Though you can't feel it, it isn't right
Behold what keeps me up at night
Money, fear, and imitation
All electronic stimulation
It's all vanity for let me say
It shouldn't really be that way
Arrows point you along the lines
To blind you from what you can find
I won't change you, you're independent
I'm sorry for your Misconception

I'm sorry for your Orders
I'm sorry since they make
You do for others, but listen now
It's surely a mistake
Collaboration makes us whole
Orders tear us apart
Doing for them will make your life
Begin to fail to start
Only do for others if they would do for you!
And if you do for others, do it also for you
For those who blindly follow feel so found, but are so lost
And acting for others all your life has an infinite cost
I'm sorry for your Orders

I'm sorry for your Violence
It's not right for us to fight
To use anger to express spite
People who hit surely don't know
What you would say, though it is so
I've heard you say it's not deserved
I've seen you ignore what you've heard
When you are hurt is my worst fear
I hope in your heart, I am near
For this message will take you through
And make a free person of you
I'm sorry for your Violence

I'm sorry for your Ego
Now, I'm glad you have some pride
We are all the same and you will know
This, if you look inside
There's no reason to feel as though
You're above or below
We are all made of dust of stars
And if you look, it shows
However, if you stand above
And you do so not out of love
I suspect that you may not see
That I am you, and you are me
I hope we come together so
We can all love and hear,
If we compromise our egos,
We shall be free of fear
I'm sorry for your Ego

I'm sorry for your Sadness
Though it does have a function
It may halt you from progressing
At an emotion junction
Oh, how I feel! How I struggle
To see you being sad
But I move on, for I do know
This sadness should be had
Sadness can never be deserved!
And at times, it's not right
But as sadness is like the dark,
Our love can be the light
So when you fall remember this,
From the bottom of the cup
As love fills up your spirit now
The water goes right up!
In this moment, please have no fear
Please fight to carry on
The sadness will be what saves you
Unless you're already gone
I'm sorry for your Sadness

Though I want you to have no pain,
Sorry, it isn't right
You now have oh, so much to gain
For let me shed some light:

2.
I'm not sorry for your Understanding
For since you clearly see
You understand our culture, here,
and you understand me
Oh, how I fight! Oh, how I seek!
I live to understand
Understanding does bring
And as it enhances my mind
It does a greater thing
It gives me my most sacred power
Which is to empathize with you
It makes it so I know what's false
And what I love, that is what's true
Understanding is all I need
To make this life complete
I look at you and understand
What it's like to walk in your feet
And what a majestic time it is!
To see someone and know
That all I've done and all they've done
Have led us here, to where we go
To meet and see each other's love
And burn each other's fear
When you help me understand you
Is truly only when I hear
I'm not sorry for your Understanding

I'm not sorry for your Sorrow
Even if regret can harm
Regret can consume your entire life
Or compromise your charm
Yet here, know this! You open up
When you apologize
And if you knew what it really was
It would be a surprise
Your sorrow is so humble
Your sorrow shapes your life
So long as sorrow teaches you
And please, without a knife
The function is for you to learn
To correct a bad fate
And now, all you need to do
Is not repeat mistakes
And please be free! For beyond that
Sorrow is but a waste
Take what the sorrow teaches you
And then, before it's too late,
Forget the pain, and do move on
It can be hard, I know
But once you love with what you've learned
The efforts of your sorrow show
I'm not sorry for your Sorrow

3.
Laterally and downward
Crazily like a pup
This is only what you expect
But it is only up

Like a madman scribbling
Or a child bored in class
Pain drags us along for a crazy ride
As if we have no mass

But listen here! Because I love
I can tell you why
Your pain just makes you beautiful!
Your pain just makes me cry

All of my new found perceptions
Enhance my life tenfold
But what you hear is born of pain!
I'm so warmed by the cold

And judge me not, but understand
I love the pained, the hurt
I love them more for their presence
Is such a wonderful work

I will plainly continue and say that your pain makes you beautiful. When I speak to my brothers and sisters who are mentally challenged, homosexual, or any other type of minority, I feel so loved and lucky to be in their presence because I know they had to fight harder to get to a point that they could look into my eyes and smile through their adversity. Pain has brought me gratitude!! Because since my pain made me isolated, so much as an acknowledgement makes me feel so loved. Pain has brought me perception!! Because I see the same gratefulness in others and it makes me understand that we all love those who share our pain. And along those lines, most importantly, pain brings us together. You should embrace your pain and wear in on your shoulder since you fought through it, you earned it, and by sharing it with others, we find what we truly have in common. Every person who shares their pain let's the struggling brothers and sisters know they are not alone! Pain is darkness, but by letting people know their pain is not abstract, we shed light unto their pain and we all love each other better and more productively.

I lost control, but just know this
Beauty is only pain
And from sharing the pain you have
Such love you have to gain!
It's another one where the letters, PAIN MOVES US, spell out sections 1 and 2, then I just had to go on a tangent since I love how much pain is beauty in my life and I hope you can love people through pain like I do because it is one of the best parts of my life
Perveiz Ali Apr 2018
Kashmir  

Known but uncertain.
A macabre aura in her lush green valley
Swirls along the lanes and the by lanes,
Humming the death songs, and
Mocking the mother's lullaby;
Inundates the spring of love
Reeling under the gales of remorse !

I- Pulwama

Pulsating pain,
Unbeknown to the servants of chair,
Leaches out the marrow of tolerance,
Wobbles the calmness of quiet sea,
And reduces the sane to stupors;
Mayhem clouds the canvas of peace
And ruins the crop of pride!

II- Shopian

Singing the songs of hope, but-
Hearth of ignominy blazes its zenith
Over the apple-bough bedecked contours.
Perforated is every bud that dares to live
In the middle of the 'dance of death'
Akin to the blind devastating tornado,
Nay, a fair of cherishing right to cease life!

III- Kulgam

Kind enough to lit the candle of austerity,
Unknown but to decipher abysmal cause of
Long lacuna in a journey called life;
Gog and Magog they name them
Arraying the apostles of deceit;
Machiavellianism it is, do they know!

IV- Anantnag

Amplified agony of terrorized souls
Nibble at the crumbs of shattered dreams
Along the periphery of devastated 'Lal-Chowk';
Nomadic but still the images find abode
Tethered with mournful sand of 'Sangam',
Nay, undulating terrain stands it firm
All denizens are but a reflection of
Galeanthropy!

V- Srinagar

Schizophrenic- An epithet
Round the clock they wear;
Illusionary clouds all around
Neap the momentum of ship
And strangulate everything in a fit of despair
Gushing out the marrow of patience
And leaving behind infertile soil
Regretting what it had?!

VI- Budgam

Beseeching to blossoms of almond-
Unlearn to rely on the artifacts
Destruction with their only aim;
Gabel otherwise bound to pay we are  
Along with the honour and digity,
Mundane- a certificate to be killed?!

VII- Bandipora

Beside the 'Wular Lake'
Antiquarian lot with over burdened brows-
Nothing to do but recollecting the days:
'Demons when were worshipped, and
Idols of falsity followed';
Pine high dreams kissing the ground
Over and above that can be documented;
Rolling is the agonising arid pain
Aching all the wasteland of wounds!

VIII- Ganderbal

Gloss of undulating terrain
Anguish in the paroxysms of swindle
Notches of which still bleed
Darkness of dark demegogues;
Eating up of the grey matter follows
Relying on the spoon feed, and
Blackout of the nursery of the intellect
Among the denizens,
Lost in sighs and sobs!

IX- Baramullah

Black and blue still explicit over
Amicable land of dreamers-
Roasted they are from decades;
Along the banks of Jhelum
Mutilated memories are hung
Under the hovering black clouds-
'Lost for words' is the expression,
Living souls visiting this garrison;
Alas! Caught we are between the deep sea and the devil
Heros we need in a land of sheepskin prophets!



X- Kupwara

'Kiss of death' is for the democracy
Unabsolved case of 'Kunun Poshpora';
Pacified unmarked mass graves
Welcome you to the countryside
Amidst the loaves of corpse, and
Roar of egos
Asking the citizens to prove their identity!
Helen Nov 2013
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-iii/
(best read in order)

He blankets her with a mist that is fine and as pure as his postpartum soul is able to manifest. He’s sorry that she is sobbing on the dirt floor. He can’t think past the hunger that is beating upon her, which beats upon him. He is angry that his ancient predatory instincts are gaping to the fore.

   For the ancient being now gently weeping on a cold dirt floor.

Why did he not recognize her? How did he get so lax in the thinking that cattle could disguise it self?  A Wolf in Sheep’s clothing? Well... it’s not like he has not donned the same costume!

   He had been a Protector for so long. Rising each Sunset with the challenges that bring on the most predatory beasts that hunger for pain. He, alone, has stood beside Humanity to bring the world a semblance of normality, morality, a passing moment when they thought they were King of the world… but their inflated egos were never touched by doubt.
Because of him.

But she brings him down to the basest level.

   He feels…
    For her
     For her hunger
      For her emptiness
       For her utter contemptuousness


   She is the creature that he has been birthed to fight. The utter savageness that she brings forth when it becomes night.

He alone, in eternity, wanders the earth to make Mortal life the one thing that is right.

   She lifts her head from the cold dirt floor to stare at him. He materializes as a persona that should scare her, one that heralds Death, but his emotions are fraught with peril. She is important to him. He may have been birthed to bring Death but he was never denied that one could become his Life.

His pulse quickens, her eyes widen, her pulse quickens, he is afraid of the sight that lays bare in front of him. His fangs are buried deep in his bottom lip, he can not say a word even if his immortal soul depends on it.

   She licks her lips in hesitation, maybe anticipation; she could be licking her lips because of the small droplet of blood that lingers in the corner of her mouth. He wants to touch his tongue to said lips and cheek and ear and throat and, well HELL, he’s happy to continue south… as long as his tongue is touching skin…

   She looks away, briefly, and cries again. She is unable to fight past her hunger even though she has recognized the Protector.

She needs protecting too!

She’s so hungry!

But from the swelling of his body, *so is he…
and this is where the story ended, all those years ago... is there a future? Who knows?

— The End —