Blue for the chill,
It's blue,
That hill,
Off in the distance,
Past that window,
That hasn't been washed,
I'll do that,
I will.

But the hill,
It's blue,
Blue is for the chill,
In case you forgot,
I do that sometimes,
I can't remember my lines,
But it's ok,
Cause they did too,
So it's not just you,

But look,
Out the ***** window,
That I forgot to clean,
A minute ago,
Oh,
Right.

...

Now look,
Look!
Past the window you don't know is there,
Cause its so clean,
Out to the hill,
It's blue,
Just like you,
Blue is for the chill,
Blue is for you too.

I know why blue is yours,
Cause I know almost everything,
I knew what your favorite colour is,
I know your favorite song to sing,
I shouldn't give it away too soon,
But the colour is blue,
And the song Blue Moon,
I knew I shouldn't have said anything,
I gave it away too soon...

But that's why you need to look,
You need to see,
Just like me,
I see you have eyes,
I know that cause I can see,
Big surprise,
It's deductive reasoning,
I like your wide eyes,
Makes you look scared,
Maybe you won't be so combative,
Maybe you'll do better than the others faired...

No no,
Don't cry,
Please don't cry,
I,
I don't know what to do about tears,
I find them to be one of my bigger fears,
I fear them like you fear death,
I'm not sure how to make them stop,
Without stealing your breath...

That's better
I'm glad you stopped,
It's better than you smile,
Cause it's been quite awhile,
Since I've seen someone not so scared,
Perhaps you will do better,
Than the others faired...

Oh no,
I've gone and frightened you again,
I'm sorry,
I don't mean to,
I'm unsure what to do,
How about I show you something?
Here look,
See,
It's a ring,
Diamond and gold,
Will keep shining forever,
Till we're grey and old,
Isn't that something else?
It'll last longer than both you and I,
But that's no surprise,
Rocks have long lives,
We humans almost never survive...

But never mind that,
You got me all sidetracked,
Trickster you!
But look,
Beyond the window,
All the blue,
That is the hill,
Cause blue is for the chill,
And I know how you like the colour,
I like always how the world is still,
Never moving,
Not an inch,
Not a mile,
Not bit,
Not in quite awhile,
I've often wondered why not,
But then I forgot,
What I wondered about,
And then I scream,
And I shout,
And when I stop I find everyone's sleeping,
Not making a sound,
Not even breathing,
So I dig a big,
Big hole in the ground,
And in they go,
Without a sound.

But don't worry,
I won't forget a thing!
I won't ever forget the name of that song,
That song you love to sing!
It's called...
It's called...
It's called.....

...

....

...Hm,
Wake up sleepy head,
Wake up lazy bones!
Oh,
You're dead...
You never even got to see the hill,
That's passed the window,
It's blue,
Blue is for the chill,
All for you,
That hill,
Cause it's blue,
And I know you really like the colour,
Or liked I guess,
What a mess...
I'm sorry for this,
I really thought I'd miss,
Never hit anything with it before,
But I guess I did today,
I had hoped you could stay,
For a little while longer,
I knew that I could be just that little bit stronger,
But not today...

Hear the chorus of moans and cries,
Distraught in sorrow and covered in lies,
An ebony symphony tormented by sin,
Not of their own but of winter white skin,

I see them, broken, beaten, hated,
Abused, refused, and fornicated,
By **** and lustful molestation,
Helpless still an entire nation,

Watch tiny hands of tear stained youth,
Be ripped away from shreds of truth,
From loving fingers do they pry,
The small away, now most will die,

I see them sobbing gasping for breath,
Eyes blurred and swollen smelling of death,
Terror instilled on the hearts of so many,
As they’re are sold for the worth of a penny,

You’re cruel and you’re vicious you know not what they faired,
You’re words drip with acid sadistically shared,
You carry infection and taint all those near,
I bring you dear folks the esteemed auctioneer,

The slayer of hope with malicious intent,
With a cross in his hands he believes he’ll repent,
As I watch from the corner of life so ill fated,
Blood pours from the wounds on the backs now serrated,

My eyes know no mercy and I’ll **** with a glance,
I know nothing of black, white and grey filled with chance,
I speak for the demons that live off the hate,
Thrive on the loathing of these people’s fate,

There are no angels in this room filled with pain,
After all who could stand in this blood filled domain.

I pulled the door open, prayed.
Hoped I wouldn't see your smile
bright and shiny behind the tile.

My breath died a moment, when I
heard my name in your voice,
my feet had to make a choice.

My eyes closed and I walked.
You small talked me,
as you stirred sugar in my coffee.

You asked about my weekend,
how Natalie's hangover faired.
My true feelings were dared.

"You want to know how I'm doing? I am
Livid.
Depressed.
Scared.
Distraught.

"I trusted you, Matt. You promised me! I BELIEVED YOU!

"Good-bye."

My eyes opened and I walked.
You small talked me,
as you stirred sugar in my coffee.

You asked about my weekend,
how Natalie's hangover faired.
My true feelings were spared.

"Thanks for the coffee."

I trusted too much.
Barricaded too late.
It's my fault.

I thought you were the exception,
but who am I to believe
any one would choose me?

She is dark haired
Faired hair
Blue eyes
Brown eyes
The curvy perky pervy mermaid
Of quiet joys named Maria
The fairy queen of the Autumn roads
Master and mistress of mystery
Shaded tints
Of unknown
Digital history
Cloaked in anonymity
Baring my solemnity
Wearing layers of dignity
And desire
Is inspired
A crackling volcano
Of unmeasurable passions
A shadow thief who stole my heart
Monument made of more than beauty
By all the curiosities
Of Casual conversations
It is not out of obligation
Or out of courtesy that I court
Her kindhearted pleasure
It is merely for my pleasure
That I treasure such a jewel
I will never meet her in person
I will only know her in poetry and prose
And as far as that goes
It is a grand gift she bestows

You hate that I wear your shirts
Specifically the ones that you got from being in the marines
Its just I don't know you

I never really did
So I wear your shirts because you've worn them
And I was hoping that the fibers would tell me who you were

The woven strands would tell me about your personality
The dyes would tell me about your past
A history written in cloth

The folded crisped sleeves
Telling me about what happened in the past ten years of not talking to each other
You see I **** at talking about what I'm feeling

The only proper way I can is spilling it through the tip of a pen
Or pouring it into a keyboard
I'm slowly reminded that your shirts don't take on a condescending tone

Telling me that I'm just a kid
Part of me was hoping that
Some kind of weird information transfer would happen

Your shirt and I would swap information
So the next time you put it on
(If I hadn't taken it with me)

Everything I've been through would swap into your head and be processed
And you'd stop calling me a little kid and you'd realize that
I **** at showing emotions and that you aren't a brother to me

You're a stranger
And you left
When you did I had to grow up because you were the first to go

Ten years ago you left and I don't hold anything against you because I don't know you
And my earlier memories are always swirling eddies
A fogged shower mirror that I can never make out

You left and when you did you left a child behind
Someone who still had chimed belled laughter
Will o the wisps smiles

Someone who treaded on pearl ingrained feet
But those pearls began to sink in and cut
Only to become blood rubies

Unforgivingly beautiful
And seductively painful
I walked back into your life on those ruby kissed feet  

I stood a little taller
My shoulders a little broader
My face a bit more graced with age

Hi

I'm your slightly older younger sister
How have you faired these past ten years?

Miles of indigo ocean floss the urchins from its rocky teeth
cracked, aged, sturdy

like our captain
unwavered by the changing tides
wrinkles deep in his eyes
skin dry from the salt of the blue.

The ship a knotty brown, pointed like a tri-corn hat. Roguishly handsome like it could Woo the sea.

Our captain sang stories
of the ship's past lives before its soul
settled into our vessel.
His adventures hearing mermaids
Lured under to their beauty.
Most men be tranced by their call
lost forever in their seaweed chains,
not this Stone-hearted Charmer.
With swiftness of a thief
his smirk toss the sirens under his thumb.

Johnny Two Leg sticks his knife into the lid of a large barrel
prys it open.

Maggots wriggle under the dark of it's planks.
Rot cotton forming in their crevasses.

"Another day another barrel" Johnny sigh to himself
lid clanking against the deck.

This will be the crew's rations.

Sing songing men with their plenty red wenches toss back tankards on board.
Their song isn't flashy,
not even practiced,
they just want their tales to be heard.
A chorus, or chant repeats between stories.
Some simpler, some scary, some tall.
Each member of crew taking turns with their voice boxes, scratching the black liquor walls.

Johnny Two Leg plunks the barrel center of the crowd
a loud cheering erupts.
The poor boy who was staged on a chair belting limerick of his most recent love affair has his stool politely kicked, knocking him prone,
causing a nearby member
or four to laugh.

"If a man is a song, is he really dead?"
booms our captain through the bustle. touching Johnny Two Legs back,
giving a smile as he walk past.

We form a line as he hand us vials from the barrel

thumb the frosty glass
pop cork unleashing purple mist tendrils that spiral round like a serpent's tail

look to our captain in devotion
who holds his vial out proud.
Johnny Two Leg stands prouder,
glowing for the captain.
The poor boy stand bright eyed, clutching.
Together we swig back the poison

give our souls to the next vessel
be it castle, sword, or ship.
They'll sing about us
of hearts calloused harder than oceans teeth
voices louder than the reddest haired *****
passion hotter than the fires of hell.

When their lungs grow tired of our song, remind them
'fore we faired the sea under their new flag
we breathed oceans of wisdom
devout to this Knotty Tri-corn Rogue.
May his story never die.

I sat, starving and
half-drunk
on the center cushion of my couch
now lying on the floor,
It was not spared from
my whiskey-induced rage.
It faired no better than the dining room chairs,
the window drapes,
or the crystal cocktail tumblers lying on
the floor,
strewn apart in shattered, jagged triangles.

I peel myself from the remains of a
living room
And stumble towards the toilet,
Each step ringing in the sorrowful consequences
of alcoholism
and a gin-soaked broken heart.

The bathroom does not welcome me,
It hides the light switch,
And I do not find it until
My fifth attempt.

My Sisyphean efforts to **** straight
Are ignored, and
God
adds a *****-soaked carpet
to the list of regrets
that rob me of my dignity.

He chalks up another
As a grown man vomits into
his toilet
And sobs like a lost child,
All while avoiding the cold gaze
of the Mirror.
It holds no surprises for me,
I do not pretend that I will look up
And like what I see.

I stumble backwards and flop
onto the section of carpet not covered
in the domestic debris of
my love-sick hurricane.

I do not wash my hands
I have lost all hope of cleansing
Myself.

I just roll around in
my grime,
and massage the empty spot
on my shoulder
where you would rest your head
during a movie,
or after late-night, spite-fueled ***.

And I clutch my chest,
Feeling my heart slowly atrophy,
Now freed from all the pain
And all the love
You gave me on nights
like this.

How can you give me half your heart
And say you love me true?
Like every time you muttered
"Babe, I wanna marry you"
Is it a fools pride? Stubbornness?
Or were you really just a dunce
To even try to think
"Hey, I love two girls at once"

I thought you knew
I thought you cared
You said it'd last
Look how that faired

So I'm tired and asleep
My heart casts nightmares of the break
But I'll manage as I do
Since pain is always what I take

Please don't come looking for me
I'll find you if I have a need
Numbness is my new best friend
Thanks for a taste of the apathy seed

If you can't tell from this poem
My hearts in disarray
The rhythm's all ******* up
Beating every other day

Where do I go from here?
Share my hopeless despair?
Cared for emotions are rare.
Faired erosion we're square.

Gone and maybe forgotten.
Songs of baby's and Mama.
Long are days on the bottom.
Onward my crazy mantra.........

Omar Ibn Elkhatab went to visit the blessing land
Where his successor was there

He was honest of this nation
This was the calling by the prophet

Ibn Elgrah was the little men
Who believed in the prophet

The prophet evaluated him
He was so strongest at his thought
He believed in God

He believed that he the only
Who control the all creatures
Who created everything
Who could hurt or get useful
Who made the sun rose

He believed that the prophet will get victory
And beat other opinion
He believed that infidels be at undermost

The believers who were hurt
Asked Mohamad to pray to his God
To get these atheists

They worshipped another god
They worshipped some statues
The begin of statues were from that person
Amro ibn lohie was the first Arabian who worshipped these statues
Who was so ranked an important person
All Arab heard and obeyed
They looked to him as a persuade

As he was so pious
He saw the humans at elsham land
"the blessing land"
Included Syria, Jordon and palatine

He saw them worshipped these statues
He asked,” Why?
They said,' as we asked them to down the rains
They rained "
He asked to give one of them
They gave "Hobal"
Hobal was the first statue
Was put at Mecca
The honor men were irresolute
They final worshipped

Afterword the statue increased
Mecca was filled with statues
Equal to the year's days
Two of them were famous

They called " Ellat and Elozza"
They were woman and man
They loved each other
Their love was so strong
They went to Kaaba
The holy home of the God
They take a chance when the mosque was empty

They entered Kaaba
They did the sin

The anger had prevailed
They converted into statues
Naked as they were born
For the ancient Arab's foolishness
They put one of them at elasafa
The mount where the umrah and hajj Muslims
Walked to it
And Marwa they walked to it
Doing as hager did

Hager was the wife of Abraham
The grandfather of the prophets
He married her
When she had pregnant
And got a child
, his old wife got jealous
So he was ordered to immigrate
He immigrated to the holy land
Mecca

She was so empty
The dessert was so the queen
When his family established
He leaved them
Hager called at
" where do you go?"
She was an old Egyptian princess
Of the elmenia governor
When hexoses occupied Egypt
They took her as a slave
She took a snake as a pet
No one could rap
She was so honorable
And the king of Egypt admired
So he gave her as a gift
Her wife loved her

So they became friends
The respected family had good character
They deal her as free as an honest
Sarah the old wife of Abraham
Advised him to marry
To get his dream child and get his happy
He married and got the child

Hager called at
" where do you go?"
She repeated three times
There were no answers
She asked, "Does your god order?"
He answered with yes
She said," so he will not lose us!"
He went

The food and water was finished
She went to the mount
She had to get food
She looked at right
And ran towards the mountain
It called "Elsafa"
She got over it
She looked towards the valley
Where did the holy home of God exist
She must still believe in God
That upper power prevents every worst
That gives goodness, luxury, blessing,
She learned everything from the prophet
He cultivated the faith in her heart
She gazed at her son
She ran towards him
As he cried a lot
She carried him and rocked
He became so calm
But after some silent
He cried again as the hungry bit him
She stood and ran towards the another amount
It is called
"elmarawa"
She got over it
Looked at the wide valley of the land
To find any one carrying food
Or even carrying water for the drink

She looked again towards the place of the holy home
And looked towards her son
Her heart called her
To get some aid to get him calm
She stood again
As her child cried
She ran towards the mount
Who is called
"Elsafa"
She did it seven times begins with mount
Elsafa
Ended with mount
Elmarwa
She prayed to her God
Every drop of her blood
Every atom, every part
Let the rain of happiness covering the world
Let the seed of love growing so full
And get green and good fruits

Let the day covering every seed
To make the feast appeared
Let the hearts praying one word
Thanks our God

She got up over the mount
Elmarwa
After she looked at the wide valley
After she found no help
After the mind of human thought
That he would fell in destroying
She looked towards the blessing point
Even the devils lied eggs of failure
After the crows got off every pigeons
After the injustice was the announcement of the world
The hope must overflow
She found her son got calm
She thought worst thing had come

Her heart flew her up
She moved with a blink at his leg
The great angel downed
He dug that land
The water flew up

She was so happy
Her kinder got calm
The angel must deal him with happy
She faired that the overflow of water
May destroy every point
No hager, your God is the highness
No Hager, no
Your God knows the fare
She said,"Zam, Zam"
It became zam zam
Muslims when do vesting the holy home
When they do Umrah or hajj
They walked between tow mounts
Elsafa and Marwa , as they get known
They also drank from zam zam
Blessing water


to be continued

Upon the hallowed ground she stood
The wind blew through her hair
A swallow swooped o’er the darkening sky
And the scent of rain filled the air

She heard their voices loud as thunder
Echo over hill and down
And warily she watched them
Ride their ghost mounts into the town

The rain now fell in torrents
Upon the hallowed field
But she moved not from her own same spot
As an icy hand bid her yield

A hand of ice held fast her hem
Though she struggled against its grasp
She begged it there to let her go
Then from the earth she heard it rasp

‘One kiss my bonny sweetheart
the years were long since I saw thee last
It be cold here in the hallowed ground
And I lie and freeze a memory of the past.’

‘I fought here on the hallowed ground
with rapier high and voice aloft
till down the enemy struck me fast
and I lay in my blood on the damp ground soft.’

The hand then loosed its steely grasp
And she saw her true love’s form
A cold and bleeding upon the ground
she covered him with russet cloak to keep him from the storm

As the rain then pelted down around
The long lost lovers in their embrace
His bonny sweetheart spoke to him
With trembling lip and heart that raced

‘My own true love, my only
Long waited I for your return
I scorned the suitors who sought my hand
They said your love is gone and dead, but your memory I would not scorn

‘I waited long for word or news
of thy well being or how thee faired,
but none e’re came to me at all
so I waited, hoping you had been spared.’

‘Ah a truer love man never had
that would wait through tears and time
and keep the hope that I still lived
to find that in the ground I lie.

Forgive me, love, I’ve done thee wrong
To make thee wait for me so
Take my hand with one last kiss
And then my love, you must go.’

‘Nay my only, only love,
it’s here with you I’ll stay
I’ll not go back to my old life
I’ll lie here by thy side, come what may.’

So upon the hallowed ground she lay
Her hair damp and soaked to the skin
And right by his side she lay all night
As she clutched his hand so thin.

The town knew not where she had gone
But in the morn they found
She’s gone to be with her one true love
Dead, upon the hallowed ground.

By the slightest margin we cheat death
But if we fall beneath
What shall we find ?
People of our kind ?
Answer no, souls in forms we haven’t seen
Coming from places where we haven’t been
Doing things we haven’t done
Having things we call fun.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die
I prefer to live, even if it is a lie
But when the time comes I’ll be prepared
To stand and see how I’ve faired
Whilst living, to assess my place
For eternity, wrapped in immortal grace.

Down to the Storehouse of Amenti I rose
Curling a sleeping kitten
Striped grey with a pink nose
I was charged with it’s protection

Through witch’s warm cottages
and priests’ church perches
I met a dark-haired guide
A wanderer lost in the circle
Of a troubled spirit’s tides

Followed he to the escalator
I chose, rising up
Through the forbidden fruits of mankind
Material wealth is perishable goods
And poison to the mind

As the stairs slid into a ramp
A stranger pin-striped with lies
Caught me in his paws and smiled his canines
Scared, I said “I must follow my guide.”

But in this brief encounter
The direction of him I surrendered
And turned about on a lost head and stumped feet
But he was nowhere in sight.

So I chose a new path
Gathering my lace skirts to my knees
And risked my sake on a roll of Fate’s dice.

Followed my soul to the base of another stairwell
This one with wooden roots pecking at my feet
Faired I well and higher I rose
With each new well in between

Four wells I found, one going down,
And landed I next to some people.
I changed the rods to make the cross
Easier to bear for those people.
And next I found where one good deed abounds
Another is sure to follow...

And since I was sure
That my guide would be seething
Sick with waiting for hours,

Directions I sought
From a golden-braided broad
Thick she is with Wisdom-giving.

She said, “Travel to the Fourth Floor
And seek nothing more
Than the Stairwell that takes you to the bottom.”

I passed up a ride on a star ship
Docked, and shaking in its power
Children bubbled with laughter
As I watched it lift off from its tower

I passed up the last gate-
The Stairwell that led to Heaven
Four-stride across and glowing sky-blue
Like the light of the star-flowers found in my garden
It called to me like the tomb.

But too strong was my longing
To return to the beginning
Where my guide would be delayed

So I turned from the staircase
Straight into an elevator
Where a young operator escorted me away

Blasted to the bottom and shown the door
To face life’s routine boredom
To match what was written
In his sour expression
Even as by his side I left the store.

So was this a test by the Lords of the Cycles
To see where my loyalties rest?
Or was this a message
Like what one sees in the mirror
About the illusion of fear?

for a moment, the word stops breathing,
your heart quits pumping and bleeding in the
only healthy way it knows how.
there is silence—and then there isn’t, not anymore,
the sky is shattered by lightning and your
pulse jumps with every rumble, your body flinches with
every roar and the sky is turning far darker than it was a minute before,
the wind is like a turbine, going round and round and round,
tearing, ripping, and seething, you can see the clouds descending,
you’ve been through this time and again and you know the power
this twirling cloud will be rendering, you should be inside,
you can hear Mike Morgan yelling over the static of your TV
“prepare yourselves for the damage this will bring!
hide under mattresses, bathtubs, if you must under the kitchen sink!”
it’s coming your way, it’s picking up speed and you try not to imagine
what has made up the debris, you come to your senses,
realize it’s real, accept the fact that it’s not a drill, you grab who you can,
you shove them down stairs, you start counting heads and start saying prayers,
the cellar is dusty, you choke for clean air but it’s howling outside
and you know you won’t find any out there, metal is screeching,
someone is screaming, sirens are bleating out to anyone who cares,
it takes three men alone to make sure the door doesn’t tear off it’s hinges
in the height of the scare—and suddenly it’s over, you can’t here anything from anywhere.
the world again stands still, but it isn’t holding it’s breath,
it’s watching a thousand electric sparks die a last death.
you push against the doors, you need to breathe better air
and you can hear someone telling you that you need to take care,
but you push and you shove and you break free of your prison,
you climb out to see how your world has faired,
but there isn’t
anything
there

It’s a pale paler heart

There is no reason

To part, Jane Eyre

The proof is plain to see

Would you let her be?

​A passionate English Orphan

So paint her white

This very day

Let her know why

We see her this way

Charlotte Bronte

Closer she walks

With Emily and Anne

Closer that

We see where your muse's faired

That magically makes

Us free

Is the paler shade of white for thee?*

Debbie Brooks 2014

Upon the hallowed ground she stood
The wind blew through her hair
A swallow swooped o’er the darkening sky
And the scent of rain filled the air

She heard the voices loud as thunder
Echo o'er hill and down
And warily she watched them
Ride their ghost mounts into the town

The rain now fell in torrents
Upon the hallowed field
But she moved not from her own same spot
As a deathly grip bid her yield

A hand of ice held fast her hem
Though she struggled against its grasp
She begged it there to let her go
Then from the earth she heard it rasp

‘One kiss my bonny sweetheart
the years were long since I saw thee last
It be cold here in the hallowed ground
Though I be but a memory of the past.’

‘I fought here on the battle ground
with rapier high and voice aloft
till down the enemy struck me fast
to lie in blood on the damp ground soft.’

The hand then loosed its steely grasp
And she saw her true love’s form
A cold and bleeding upon the ground
as more furious grew the storm

As the rain then pelted down around
The long lost lovers in their embrace
His bonny sweetheart spoke to him
With trembling lip and heart that raced

‘My own true love, my only
Long waited I for your return
I scorned the suitors who sought my hand
for your memory I would not scorn.

‘I prayed long for word or news
of thy well being or how thee faired,
but none e’re came to me at all
so I waited, hoping you had been spared.’

‘A truer love man never had
that would wait through tears and time
and keep the hope that I still lived
to find that in the ground I lie.

Forgive me, love, I’ve done thee wrong
To make thee wait for me so
Take my hand with one last kiss
And then my love, you must go.’

‘Nay my only, only love,
it’s here with you I’ll stay
I’ll not go back without thee,
I’ll stay by thy side, come what may.’

So upon the hallowed ground she lay
Hair damp and soaked to the skin
And by his side she lay all night
As she clutched his hand so thin.

The town knew not where she had gone
But in the morn they found
She’s gone to be with her one true love
Dead, upon the hallowed ground.

8 years.  No collective cheers or beers shared.  Together enduring the same weather I can only wonder how we'd've faired.  I think we woulda been a strong team, the likes of which could not be compared.  All a fantasy, the reality is you're still a part of me.  Can't say I think about you constantly, but more in the last 8 than the previous 18.  One quick passing dream, imagining a table sitting you and me, first time seeing you in 23.  We so often speak rest in peace, but I hope you currently think less of what could be than me.  Sometiiiiiimes I think you are around.  Little things in my life that ring so profound.  But I wanna hear the sound of words to me through your essence.  I ask today for you to give me a sign of your presence.  Help me become aware of my lessons.  Still learning to ease myself when within there is tension.  I miss you and the relationship we almost had.  I send my love, rise in peace dad.

I still remember 8 years past.  Friends scooped me up in a parents SUV and we smoked hash in the back.  A silent memorial cuz words were hard to grasp.  But here I am still trying to improve not losing self, only the mask.  Thank you for keeping me on track. One day may we collaborate and spend time to love and laugh.  One love~

Lift a hand held flag,
Raise a cheer and brag,
how?  You're Canadian eh?

Cause no rift, don't drag
down, or braise your neighbour,
sorry, you're Canadian you say?

Stand for the Anthem,
languages not an issue,
tearing up? Grab a tissue.

Our heritage maybe scarred,
but no country has faired better,
we all learn from our miss takes,
remember every place,
can you name every lake,
walk through every mountain pass,
or thank God for those who have
gone on before, matter's not the race.

History is man's foolishness,
this country has a tale to tell,
of men and women, of sacrifice.

The present is about change,
one of hardest things and strange,
that no one knows how to do it right.

But every one has an opinion.
Sometimes the pinions, small,
are the most important, is all.

The future,
sutures to the
present and
the past, to the wind
change is fast,
courage Canada,
this day is your
birthday,
a day like any other,
and you will not
let anyone down,
                                    after all you are Canadian.

The young warriors gridded lions, For this hand in the endless apocalyptic fight.
Amongst the brave a maiden,
Her beauty beheld by an Angle. Valiant in her efforts to in lighten her protectors,
Her ending result faired well. "Oath bound are we the mass, Evolution transcends, as the Angel's pride fills her Holy knight. I her "Seto Cross Bow; The Dragon Sword of Chaos and Wrath."
In all her gracious bliss,
The endurance of my love.
Has shattered the binds that created our lust upon my own battle field.
Your touch brings warmth to my non existent agony.
As I long for the invigoration of adrenaline.
"Each moment we spend within the shadows holding each other in a tainted embrace.. Replaces this absent hole."
The war of beasts begin.
Ripple the strands of time,
Her turmoil becoming peril.
The stress of loosing her Gordian, The Black Rose Cross...
Her strength to preserve the last of her heart as she watches him go.
"The Bone of her sword Revolted as life became apparent."
As the new profound master of combat.
Armed up for his opportunity,
His mine eased by the time spent in the presence of his Guardian Angle.
His ultimate drive found as he slips away...
Deep down into the struggle of man where men find their Truth. The warrior took his final stand, and found eternal youth.
Now begins my struggle back home.
I'm Coming Angle!!!

It faired off cloudy came a dry drizzle
I heard that once
Don't know why
It stuck with me.

She was dragged in a world unknown to her
a cold state of affairs, where raids faired
as the sails scattered her into deep seas
where her scarred elbows remain affixed
giving way to her erratic misunderstood tongue

She was drugged in a demonic contoured pond
pinned and trodden on hills vast
by and by, she pulled from the mire
unclouded and in great disbelief
as she sat on the wealth of found hope

She is cautious but yet open and forgiving
as she watches the world become a jungle
a playfield of where the good balances bad
such a tainted state of existence irrefutable
such a fainted slate of being inexcusable

Not these prose that may bloom and become rhymes,
unreasonable times squared , how have i faired?,
Thanks for asking, work is taxing, the least,
Of my worries, is finding words,  flock!
"Bird by bird" where are the people that read,
without pillaging, without burning,  and
Purifying, some flash mob dance, rough draft,
This a loose assembly of words,

proof of  life, Though the Store was not minded,
Where are?,
the watchers, from
While, dipping my toe,
in a West Coast ocean, member
of the North of the 49th Parallel
Poets Brigade, Canadian, but not pure

Salt to enthuse
Pepper in the way, of courtesy to all availed?
A new insight, to a comparison of good
To a length of cloth, the rosy future we entail...?

Causes, curiosity, cease of required airs
Potential in a lingering here, and heat's shade to know
The tale of consciences so void, of a watery eye faired...
And freedom on the behalf, of truth and silence, we owe

But a lip of solitude...
Here is your throe of compassion, to a future heard
The right side of seclusion and the irony we exude
Here to tell you the obvious, no man is an island to worth...

Half of nothing, and an asking hour
With a remembered gift, to you and the ancientness oriented
Well to do, the impossible if you want, me in the sulk of adding dour
Hair is our illustrious ode, that collects a rise in vagary's relent

Odiously trust, is a careful friendship with our simplicity
To keep but a unified kiss, a generosity in a laugh, to occur
With actual and older meanings, then a clash with implicitly
The staring order to an enemy, that has seen you mere, theirs

In
And never more, than
A light in the eaves, for a meager silence...
All and all, an about face, with a story worth plain...

Truth and meaning, of fearful days?
Never more, than a care is whether, odder...
Or the saving grace we ought, for a life in a fate
So named and faired to deem, another older, our?

Days have come to it's end...?
Future finish of a sameness without few
Still the response of a shared history, a heart to lend
Paces of curiosity with the voice of a world too soon?

Mind and make, the meager choice of ages
Of weal and bruised ego's, the thought for simplicity
A new care in the justice, we plan for liberty's wages
So, few to a rational kind? when you have the sense of well being

A father with knowing to share, and final authority...?
Ably the dote of a yearned for goodness, sincerity
That has the quote of a lifetime, in their sake, deplorability
Is a fury with its own ends, named the chaste, a patience's integrity?

perhaps my theory of learning comes too late,
it's experimental, still, it's only curated to me...
i still don't know how i learned English...
when i came to these isles...
perhaps i watched some ******-Doo on cartoon
network... i do remember...
that GI JOE movie... that really cool animated
movie... from the late 80s or the early 90s...
COB-R'AH... COB-R'AH...
                           silly little **** that i am...
hell... back in the day we used to play tic-tac-toe
with the girls... we used to dig a hole
in the ground... and throw marble ***** into it
sometimes we'd put more marbles in the hole
prior to the throwing session...
we... gambled... with marbles...
or we'd put chewing gum into bottle caps
and invent labyrinths where we're slide the
weighed down caps along... **** me...
did we role dice? to make moves?
i do remember getting hit by a swing... right in
the head from the back... where the kippah /
tonsure shave ought to be...
it hit me... i stood still... touched the back
of my head... the hand came back with blood...
i started crying and was taken to hospital for
stiches...
and when evening came... all the kids gathered
round and we played hide & seek...
or we talked...
i wish i could remember all of that with more
clarity...
i don't even remember how i learned English...
got thrown into the deep end of the pool:
swim ******... swim...
i had a copy of Disney's animated Robin Hood...
in Deutsche... perhaps that's why i'm teasing
myself so much with the zunge...
well... if i can't find a partner in England...
perhaps i'm thinking... let's try Germany...
          perhaps the women over there are...
more... "sensible": is a word that doesn't even
cut close to the slither of a cut...
sure... i remember... St. Augustine's primary
school in Barkingside... hiding in the toilet...
mute... unable to to speak...
then, suddenly... out of my own initiative...
i started reading...
hey presto... i started talking...
          my parents didn't speak this ****** tongue...
my father tried to teach me how to swim
on several occasions...
i'm ashamed to say that i speak better English
than my father... is that how immigration works?
for 2nd generation migrants, sure...
but 1st generation?
i also learned to swim on my own...
         peer pressure got the better of me...
and i'm thinking... this German "thing" i have...
my thinking is aligned...
what is the art of learning a new language...
well... i guess you'd have to start with a bank account
of nouns... oh... you need to have a bank acccount
of nouns...
red ist rot
    spatz is sparrow...
backwards and forwards we go...
swan ist schwan...
    sonne, mond und himmel: sun, moon and sky...
respectively...
i think you learn a language by first
associating yourself with the nouns...
calling things by their proper: designated...
understood, encryption... cipher...
nouns are ciphers...
because that's how you decipher what
someone who speaks another language
is talking about...
after the nouns? come the verbs...
what is done around nouns...
a tree?
   ein(e) baum...
you: du...
     chop... hacken...
down... nach unten... ein(e) baum...
to: zu... machen: make...
ein(e) tisch - a table...
oder / or...
                     ein(e) stuhl! a chair!

when i was younger it just: came! boom! like a big bang...
i was mute one day, speaking fluent the next...
but now that i'm older...
i'm thinking about going into hiding
somewhere in Germany... how do i do that, though?
i need a bank account of nouns...
that's sort starters...

i need to ensure i disorientate sky in my mind
for himmel... then i'll burn verbs into my head...
grammar itself will come last...
and since... prepositions, pronpouns,
conjunctions... are shrapnel...
i'm least worried about adjectives... although:
adjectives tend to be the most complicated...
well... unless it's an adjective like:
the best...
       der beste...                 beast...
do i need a French acute E to stress the second
E in beste?!
         no... i don't...

reddich... face...
    rötliches gesicht... see... adjectives morph...
from red: rot, to reddish... on its own: rötlich...
but coupled with a noun like: face?
the added suffix of -es...
oh the accenting would be a doddle...
under no circumstance am i learning Russian!
Greek... i could learn Greek...
but i have a fetish for German...
even though it should have been Danish,
or Finnish... Swedish or Norwegian...
nope... it had to be German...

it will take me months to start investing in
the noun bank account in German...
then the verbs...
then the adjective... i don't even know how
to categorise adverbs when it comes to speaking
a language... what's an adverb?

eh... conjunctions, prepositions, pronouns...
that's already taken care of...
the words in these categories take care of themselves...
they come, they go...
no one really gives a flying **** or a nun's "wisdom"
about them...
i don't understand why a small minority in
the English speaking world has such a hard-on
about one category of this shrapnel *******...

V US M! you what?!
come to think of it... hmm... i think i might have pulled
a truly spectacular trolling campaign with this
former love interest of mine...
well... i insinuated when we were travelling
to Oxford that my grandfather: god rest his soul
still had memories of asking two SS-men in
black clad: Hugo Boss uniforms for sweets...
that he said: herr! bite bon-bon like German might
write it, as one word: herrbitebonbon...
that he received sweets so sticky that his mother
had to out his hands under the tap
to unglue them... that the Russian army were all
colts... and slept in barns with goats...
true story... no need to lie...

i think i just trolled her: insinuating that i'm
secretly a ****...
   then there was this Millwall fan...
who just turned as a grandfather...
   and his comments were: oh, you're with him!
look at him... Adolf ****** over 'ere...
marching... hands behind his back...
                  i always said... if people want a villain...
they'll get a villain...
but... it's not the sort of villain they'll be able
to stomach...
**** me, i trolled her...
   but she doesn't look like the atypical pink faired
***** brigade type of post-careless
global communist... whatever it is that these
people are up to...

   can you believe it, though?
who attired the Wehrmacht?
      yeah... Hugo Boss...
                            i must have trolled her... a little...
just a pinch of salt... just a little...
but look how amazing they looked...
ah... never mind the sickly sweet mustard Khaki...
i'm talking about the philosophy
of Karl Lagerfeld...
wear your clothes like animals wear
their fur... **** me: in Deutsche!

wie tiere anlegen ihr peltz!

i have a comfortable, petty, standard...
look like a ******* tri!
         brown shoes, brown-green trousers...
brown t-shirt... dark... dunkel...
and a lighter heavy shirt... also... ebenfalls... braun...
braun-grün bäckerjungekappe...
i'll change my attire when the seasons change...
right now: ich bin hier...

but hell... if merely speaking German...
wanting to learn it... is a sign that you might be a ****?
i'm ******* going for it!
in defence of my historical enemies...
i'll be the first one to show up...
why? there's a historical tie... either at the pelvis
or at the *******... i have no narrative with
these newly arrived people...
expect in England... what... with these Pakistani
kiddy-fiddlers?!
right... well... if you're going to start somewhere...
might as well, start there, no?

well... at least with the Turks.... i'll gladly go to a Turkish
barber shop... "my" people had some run-ins
with the Ottomans in the past...
and if... they see... that i have a potential for a
fu manchu... because my moustache is blonde
as is my love spot... while my beard is brown...
and i didn't ask for one...
that they're doing the styling of(f) their own accord:
so be it... they know better...
i don't mind Muslims...
as long as they are Turks...

the rest? sort of... huddle... *******?!
i mean: who could have it even conceivable...
how can you mingle... rosemary...
with beef? but apparently you can!
i hate lamb... Nomadic meat... rich in stink!
in circumcision! i hate lamb!
******* Semites and their protein preferences!
Hebrew or Arab... all the entire host of them!
i hate lamb!
stinking meat... but these previous cultural
jewels of monotheism...
not too bothered about what of cheeses
they gobble down... if any...
at least a pork pie knows where a truffle is
hidden... ******* camel jockeys...
necrophilic usurpers of mountains...
backwards death-riddled people...
their superiority complex is... insufferable!

       you have to belittle these sort of:
******... cousin ******* sorts...
i get the gloryhole bukake fetishes...
but cousin *******?! come on...
how ancient do i have to be to allow
these people on Noah's arc?!
cull them... what?!
                      if push came to shove...
would you?
it's called a bullet to the head...
ask that lovely.... Ukranian serial killer...
why he was dragged into a cell...
shot in the back of the head..
ask... left for dead for almost two weeks...
ask... christine chubbuck...
femme incel... ask her...
            i'm not here to... care...
i'm looking for something:
"something"... exclusive...
exclusively monogamous... swan ******* lake...

now... let's line then up... shot to the back
of the head... in an isolated cell...
please... stop selling me the Hollywood
******* that a shot in the head is the quickest
way to die: no... it isn't!
******* psychopaths....
stab to the heart... that's less cruel...
but a shot to the head?
that urban myth of a cockroach....
living its best days without a head...
for almost two weeks...
why would someone... shoot a a man...
before... putting him inside any empty
prison cell?! bleed out of your ******* head:
herr orientierungshilfe?!
jawohl! jawohl!
   das ist rechts! beifall! beifall! zugabe!

how much i loved and wanted to love...
yet... how so little was afforded to me...
no matter... the world is what it is...
a very predictably unpredictable focus for
a deityto master...
  nichts ist nein:
   was hält diese welt: zusammen!

mein... besitzen... ich! bin! ihm!

sure... sure... pork is bad... but the niqqab
and cousin ******* is ******* kosher!
silly little "oink"-beards... inbreds...
protein selective wankers...
because your shoes... your belts are...
what? not pork?!
   your god is the equivalent of me saying:
i have an *******!
cousin *******... you insulted pig...
how about i insult you...
the pig is the most graciously domesticated
animal... priority over the dog...
but then again... you have have women...
that you treat like dogs...
eh... ****** cousin *******...
    nothing new...
nothing old... just same old... same...
i'd like to say: disappointment...
but i'm used to that, sort of crap...
you do you...
  but just don't get me involved...
******* *******...
         yeah yeah... you do that drill to the head...
no... we're not talking...
we will never be talking...
not over some vegeterian dish
or the idea of a global H'american quest for
a universal democracy...
come to think of it...
wasn't the H'american experiment...
the exact... antonym... of what the Soviet
communists attempted?
global democracy... is it so different
to global socialism?
thank god... that i can't tell the difference...
******* camel jockeys.

This coal I've held too long
Call it the siren's song
My palm grows stronger, calloused
My heart is filled with malice

'To err' is human
To forgive, divine'
To rage is too, then
Too porous, in time

All thoughts lead to violence
Stalled spots read it, silenced

Where does this energy go?
Faired, spuds of a moss that grows.
A virus that leads only in time,
Escaping only heeds of mine.

A brittle bundle of thatch
One single flamboyant flower
Diamond specs, a rust hatch
Tiny mouse homes by a tower

Illusioned by the despaired
Hope built upon the carcasses
Hidden; stood with the faired
Poor together empty of narcissist

Escaped the dark of plagued
Raven cures tenacious light
A sin burnt flakes baked
A creamy ooze soaks a bite

Gift lively cater the eyes
The lonely item lost or stolen
A sharp needle pierced lies
Dully used as fools golden

Liberty enthused
A party like this, is so miraculous
Sense and heed in the way we were youth
Meager old shoes, that come alive with justice

Philosophy condoned
The tender and the same
We visit and compose ourselves, a little fun
With a role to know, and they're to name...

Fruition exercised
The right, to a native clamor
For significance to tell, the story of silence
We have heard is a graceful mind of sort's...

Dependency knew
The capable and the mighty, lending
An hour of sophistication, asking who
Is a sincere time solemn, and who is amending?

Reality faired
The rue and the risk of opportunity, needs
A lover's approach to service in ideal's marriage
Toward the needy share we decide, is faith's key

Servitude looked
And saw the more of many
Till we are, nothing to decide if might, is couth
With a care in the stare of presence of calming, days

Sincerity shared
The truth in a becoming smile
That had the vice and vision of a decency's glare
Will we say "I do" or "Do I" live in the answer of needs style?