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Eddie Matikiti Oct 2015
Uprising stirring throughout the land
Children marching for a cause
The elders must listen
Dreams sold for so long
Time for reckoning upon us

A man's money is his life
Take his money you take his life
A man's education is his future
Take away that and you make him extinct

The youth uprising for a cause
The men in black suits must comply
Fees must fall
Education for free and for all

They sold us dreams of a land filled with milk and honey
For so long we believed
Soldiered on barefoot to no end
The richer getting richer
Bleak future for the African child

History will be made today
The men in black suits will answer
They will feel the tremors of our solidarity
No longer shall they hide behind their dark shades

Lend your ears to us
Let your hearts be compassionate to our cause
Fees must fall
Educate us for the future of Africa
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.the English pronounce the Cornish town's name as: nookie... the **** is it, a Green Day album name, or a Limp Bizkit song? perhaps i'm too French in my pronunciation... quail... eggs... quay... qua-a... if i were Welsh i'd write you the name like so... newyddquaa... but no... but no, has to be nookie... like buggering a ******* chimp... quail eggs... see how language becomes mutated? nothing is apparently, certainly, stable... always the permutation of a flux... i must have ingested a little of the French concept of: je ne sais quoi when learning English... come one... nouveaucarrière: new quarry... nouveauquai... nookie?! seriously?! Q, Q... Quail eggs... quay... new... quay... maybe the usage of hyphenating words into compounds needs to be revised in the english sprechen... ******* mutation... nookie... ****** ******, + a ******* wookie, walking carpet ride worth the name Chew-a-Buck-back-up! i'd settle for: new-key... some sort of variant of a maritime honing device for locating ships sending distress signals during storms... but... no... but hey... it's authentically Welsh territory... Cornwall is, after all... a pre modern extension of Wales... nookie this: shotgun my *** while is spew rhetoric concerning the health benefits of applying feces instead of ****** cream for the benefits of: no one.

over 20 years spent living on these isles,
and i never made the connection -
Welsh nationalism could only work
if you included Cornwall -
   given that Cornish is very much:
a southern dialect of Çymru -

    i guess... i'm not sure...
    let's put it to the etymological filter...
beginning with primary words:

black
           du   (Cornish)
      du   (Çymru)

    red
       rudh (Cornish)
      coch (Çymru)

    white
          gwydn (Cornish)
gwyn (Çymru)
      
        i guess that's how etymology works,
a shared origins story...
etymology is best
  examined with primary words,
basic nouns / adjectives...

that was the adjective test...
now for the noun test:

sun
          howl (Cornish)
  haul (Çymru)
      
  moon
   loor (Cornish)
    lloer (Çymru)...

    sky
               ebron (Cornish)
   awyr (Çymru) -
   ah...
      now we see what becomes from
etymological deviation...
the sky has to have more
inherent connotations
of a religiosity as the resting place
of sort...

i'm sure that sea, earth, water,
and fire, are very much akin
or mountain...
but i could be wrong...

sea
    mor (Cornish)
  môr (Çymru)
        
earth
    dor (Cornish)
   ddaear (Çymru)

   water
         dowr (Cornish)
      *dŵr
(Çymru)

fire
          tan (Cornish)
    tân (Çymru)

mountain
   menedh (Cornish)
         mynydd (Çymru) -

ah... well then...
that explains the separatist movement
of Cornwall akin
to the Spanish Basque or
the Catalonia...

  white cross on a black flag...
they're ******* Welsh down
in Cornwall!
   i was eating a Welsh pasty
all along!
           oh... i see...
  
  that's why they're separatists
down there...
but there's one word that's
crucial in all of this,
given the emblem is
on the Welsh flag...

  dragon...
**** me!
       there's an etymological source
for the word in English...
and, it comes from?
Cornish!

   draig (Çymru)
  dragon... in ******* Cornish!
**** me...

what's... snake?
   serpont (Cornish)
    neidr (Çymru)...

   there are similarities though...
blatant ones...
which explains the separatist
sentiment of the Cornish people...
they are like
the Hindu corp
of the Urdu speaking Welsh...
high Welsh and low Welsh...

nice to know...
thank god i didn't make the brash
etymological decision to
find the long lost cousins
of a shared source
akin to "abstract" words,
like...

        gallos-power-gallu...

****!

          g­od?
       DUW | WUD

well... god is a universal word,
and it matches...
  duw is god in Cornish,
and in Çymru...
   as it is also Allah on Malta...
funny as the fact that Malta
and it's Knights Hospitaller
cross of St. John of
                                 1567.

20 ******* years on these isles -
and only now i realize
why the Cornish are separatists...
they're Welsh...
   in disguise,
under the guise of a tourist
hot spot that's "nookie":
                       i.e. Newquay...

come to think of it...
    even though i'm living in England...
i interacted more with
the Welsh, the Irish and the Scots...
than i have with the English...
    i'm starting to think that...
if i don't make my way to
Yorkshire...
  or Newcastle...
then i lived in a country...
where the supposed countrymen
of said name... never existed!
ha!

well, in english you'd never really know
that Cornwall was once part of Wales,
given that Wales, isn't in the name
Cornwall: but that's in English...

in Polonaise?
        well... Wales / Walia (that double-u
  or rather, the double-v,
   since... erm: ωμέγα?)
         ergo?
      Cornwall / Kornwalia...
      probably the most beautiful part of
England you can begin to imagine...

aside...
   the current debate over "the pond" in
h'america... tuition fees, student debt...
as much as the h'americans love to gloat
and boast this that and the other...

i'm looking at myself...
    i went to university, studied chemistry,
and history...
   3rd year? 12 hours per week in
the laboratories...
three tiers of chemistry:
a.  physical - i hated physical chemistry,
it's so un-chemical...
   too much physics / mathematical
*******, so obviously i was weak at it...
b. inorganic chemistry...
    something that mingles with
   geology / metallurgy...
   eh... so so... it was o.k. and finally
c. organic chemistry...
   my strongest route, my faustian dream...
and so much like cooking,
so much so that... well: heston blumenthal...
maybe that's why i love cooking
so much, since it reminds me of
organic chemistry...
   anyways, i digress...
      back when i studied...
  and labour was in power with their:
education, education, education mantra?
that's what was still great
                  about britain...
the last stand as it were,
   ****, i still remember tha handing over
of hong kong...
    fee, per year? 1,250 quid...
                      that's it...
student loan, 3,000 quid per year...
   i actually did manage to live
             on the 3,000 with enough money
spare to do weekend away trips to paris,
stockholm, barcelona etc. - and god:
how i loved to travel alone,
bumping into strangers in hostels...
and the best part?
    i don't have to repay my loan until
i earn over 15,000 quid per year...
and since i'm not earning that...
                  the loan will be annuled after
30 years...
   mind you... a really **** year to go
to university and become a british citizen...
since... in scotland... e.u. citizens didn't
pay tuition fees!
      hence the massive surge of the polans
circa 2005...
                                 so: america, **** yeah!

but on a night like this,
esp. in the evening prior to the night itself,
there's that surge in electricity in the air...
you're walking to the supermarket
and the most mediocre magic happens...
sonny rollins' blues in your ears
you pass a street lamp and it gets switched
on by the grid...

                   it's only special because
your're listening to jazz and when you listen
to jazz and promenade...
you might as well be as content as if
walking a yorkshire terrier...
    
   while on the way back, instead of your
usual beer... you buy yourself...
a rowntrees ice lolly...
    and you eat that... smirking, feeling
                                                 like a badass.

p.s. the best thing i received from
the university wasn't even the degree...
a chance to play squash, mountain climbing
(glen coe was a beau)...
         a t-shirt...
since, once i left: a self-teaching discipline.
Smoke Scribe Aug 2018
Imagine that
I could write a salve,
compose an ointment of verbal herbs to heal,
even mere protect the already-torn-so-easy mental flesh,
just to disguise/hide the multi-colored bruising our
fickle mistress-in-common provides when you are down so far
another bruise joining the cast like a  floodplain subsuming one more feeding creek bed into the shapelessness of indistinguishability

imagine that

where atoms hide eternal between creation and destruction,
borrow brief the set exact you require to restore the taken years
from fathers/mothers/brothers/sisters,
children,
return that which went unused by the uninvited, unseemly human whim of war and lies for no gain

imagine that

the deep sinkhole of despair that ***** one in, years in the formation, appearing in instance, and worse does not drowns but leaves helpless, unable to climb out, and all our scratching digs us in deeper until we cannot be, seen or heard or just be

imagine that

a check comes in the mail, payable left open for filling-in,
in the amount of full restoration, with no additional fees of guilt needed for deposit and cashing/caching out: and you wake up
and the stony chest is breathing lungs free

imagine that

and I do; for I am the smoke of return and rest, sky inscribing,
knowing precise needs and the screams and the years unfair taken,
they are screened through the five perceptions, and the word weaver
sets the loom for each peculiar requisition, no imagination needed

imagine that

you lament and anger demand verifiable proofs mathematical,
cursing the knights of false hopes with untethered regret

I do not imagine that; hear it and accept; my task, imagine that, making you imagine that, thus commencement of repair begins
when

we imagine that

for this how new healthy cells  are born

quiet-now,  go, imagine-that, now
if you recognize yourself within, it is no accident!
thank u all for the love and appreciation. one writes many poems in many disguises, so it is hard to believe  that an 8 month old poem, sent to you for safekeeping, is shortly thereafter barely recalled.
and then is rebirthed, and wouldn’t change a word...
imagine that!
I cancelled my bank overdraft
Cut my cards up in a small pile
Actually, it was quite large you know
And this act made me smile

Just deal with cash from here on out
Never buy more than I need
It released a weight off of my shoulders
And deep down I felt freed

fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash

Can you imagine if a nation
Took this simple thought to mind
Just pay with what we make from tax
And leave what we can't afford behind

No missiles, and no foreign debt
We're just beholding to ourselves
It's politically reprehensible
But, we owe it to ourselves

fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash

No government agendas
To trade for that we can't afford
It would ***** the nations bankers
And make the economists quite bored

To be responsible for our actions
We are taught right from the start
don't spend the money you don't have
Well, to me...that's really smart

fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
Spending I will slash
My budget I will follow
And from now on pay just cash
I was challenged by Dark Artisan to write something on fiscal conservatism. Here is my answer to that challenge, I hope you like it.
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

It is the 30th day of the months in Kenya
State and corporate capitalist have now paid their workers
Wages or salaries or stipends or emoluments all being remunerations
While the rural bourgeoisie and urban bourgeoisie have also paid ex-gratia
To relatives come over-aged workers who have declined retiring
For the fear of looming starvation if at all they go home, where they were born,
Nonetheless; proceed they receive will do nothing whatsoever
As it will be stifled by the monster of desperate consumerism;
So fat and gullible in this tiger of land in the region called Kenya;
The terror peddling rent, courtesy of ruthlessness of the landlord
Bills of electric power in their full monopolistic gear
Bills of water devoid of quality, indifferent dysentery monger
Wages for maid who keep on usurping the food of my child; milk
Bills for gas, all of it redolent of comprador bourgeoisie in fashion,
Hotel and bar bill - a surreptious one, as the bar girl only knows
Airtime and renewal, TV channels and other screen capitalistic ploys
Family trip to local resort in a feat of foolish consumerist venture,
Money to the old mother at home and, sometimes depraved but patient father
ARV’s money to my *** aids stricken sister at the village, my aunt also
Tuition fees for my son at the kindergarten, who goes to schools but learns nothing
fees balance which my wife has to pay at the tailor to ransom out her dress,
M-Pesa and M-Swari loan repayment, this only for Kenyan 30th dayers
They know the agony of dealing with Kenyan mega-capitalist safaricom ltd.
This consumerism and **** consumerism,
It is the menacing bane of the Kenyan poor
It is the avaricious tube which siphons back
The hard earned money from pockets of the poor
Back to despotic account of the pitiless world pigshotry.
anastasiad Nov 2016
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Joe Workman Aug 2014
The radio alarm is a bit too strong
for his afternoon hangover taste.
He goes downstairs, sets the coffee to brewing,
rubs his hands through the hair on his face.
As he sits and he smokes, he can't quite think of the joke
she once told him about wooden eyes.

The coffee is ready, his hands are unsteady
as he pours his first cup of cure.
He tries to be happy he woke up today,
but whether being awake's good, he's not sure.
Outside it's raining, but he's gallantly straining
to keep his head and his spirits held high.

As soft as the flower bending out in its shower,
fiercer than hornets defending their hives,
the memories of sharing her secrets and sheets
run him through like sharp rusty knives.
He decides that his cup isn't quite strong enough,
takes the ***** from the shelf, gives a sigh.

He goes to the porch to put words to the torch
he still carries and knows whiskey just fuels.
Thunder puts a voice to his hammering heart.
Through ink, his knotted mind unspools,
writing of butterflies and of how his love lies
cocooned under unreachable skies.

From teardrops to streams to winter moonbeams
to a peach, firm and sweet, in the spring,
he writes of pilgrims and language and soft dew-damp grass
and how he sees her in everything.
He rambles and grieves, and he just can't believe
how much he has bottled inside.

He writes how the leaves, when they whisper in the breeze,
bring to mind her warm breath in his mouth,
how when walking through woods he loves the birdsong
when they fly back in the summer from the south
because she would sing too and he always knew
he wanted that sound in his ears when he died.

He writes even the streetlights, fluorescent and bright,
make him miss the diamond chips in her eyes,
how the fountain in the park plays watersongs in the dark
when he goes to make wishes on pennies
and while he's there he gets hoping
there will be some spare wishes
but so far there haven't been any.

He writes that the cold makes him think of the old
hotel where they spent most of a week,
lazing and gazing quite lovingly,
and how he brushed an eyelash off her cheek.
The crickets and frogs and all of the dogs
sound as mournful as he feels each night.

He writes about chocolate and fun in arcades,
he writes about stairwells and butchers' blades,
and closed-casket funerals, and Christmas parades,
then sad flightless birds and tiny brigades
of ants taking crumbs from the toast he had made,
and political goons with their soulless tirades,
old-timey duels and terrible grades,
strangers on  buses, harp music, maids,
the weird afterimages when all the light fades,
the pleasure of dinnertime serenades,
sidewalk chalk, wine, and hand grenades.

He writes of how much fun it would be to fly,
and saltwater taffy and ferryboat rides,

sitting on couches, scratched CD's,
pets gone too soon and overdraft fees,

the beach, the lake, the mountains, the fog,
David Bowie's funny, ill-smelling bog,

jewelry, perfume, sushi, and swans,
the smell of the pavement when the rain's come and gone,

and shots and opera, and Oprah and ***,
and tiny bikinis with yellow dots,

stained glass lamps, and gum and stamps,
her dancing shoes on wheelchair ramps,
that overstrange feeling of déjà vu,
filet mignon and cordon bleu,

bad haircuts at county fairs,
honey and clover, stockmarket shares,
the comfort of nestling in overstuffed chairs,
and her poking fun at the clothes that he wears,
and giraffes and hippos and polar bears,
cumbersome car consoles, monsters' lairs,
singing in public and ignoring the stares,
botching it badly while making éclairs,
misspelled tattoos, socks not in pairs,
people who take something that isn't theirs,
the future of man, and man's future cares,

why people so frequently lie
and bury themselves so deep in the mire
of monetary profits when money won't buy
a single next second because time's not for hire,
and that he sees her in everything.

Then unexpectedly, unbidden from where it was hidden
comes the punchline to the joke she had told him.
He laughs -- it's too much and his heart finally tears
as a blackness rolls in to enfold him.
The last thing he hears is birdsong in his ears --
the sound brings hope and is sweet as he dies.
Shiv Pratap Pal Jun 2019
Don't panic at all
Don't bother at all
What if the buildings are
Damaged dangerously?

What if all the walls
Are full of cracks
Things can be easily controlled
And you have enough money

So don't panic at all
Don't bother at all
Use your money with caution
Apply your mind, use your money

Get all the walls painted
With very nice painting
Paintings of the folks
Paintings of the modern era

Paintings of saints and heroes
Painting of beautiful landscapes
Raise slogans here and there
Unfurl flags and sing the anthem

What if the rivers are di*ty?
Only raise awareness campaigns
Put hoardings and banners everywhere
Do nothing else, but show everything

Just adopt these cheap tactics
You can save lot of wealth
And can spent on yourself
Or can buy more votes with it

Paint the bark of all the trees
Break all the records of shame
Create a new fake history
Make silly new records

What if there is poverty
Just make monuments for god
And ask people to pray there
God is there to listen the prayer

What if there is unemployment
Ask your businessmen friends
To start training centres and train the youth
And make money, money and money

Leave the trained youth as they were
Ask them to create employment for self
Call it self-employment, call it freedom
Ask them to rejoice this freedom

Open new schools and colleges
But don't appoint staff in teachers
Collect hefty amount of fees
Spent that fees on yourself

Also spent some to collect votes
Manage the peoples
Manage the machines
Manage history, manage geography

Manage the media, manage the news
Spread everywhere, fake news
If you do, what I have said
You will be the king again
Sure Shot and Short Formula to become King Again and Again
Francie Lynch Nov 2018
Have you met the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man?
He scammed fig leafs in the garden,
And **** cloth in Ottoman.

     outside-in, inside-out; upside-down, right-side up

The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can cuss.
He offers snake oil, spins a tale,
So you feel smart, healthy and hale.

     from top to bottom, bottom to top

The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can't stop.
He swrawls with a Sharpie pen.

     right is left, left is wrong

That's the Who-Gee Boo-Gee song.

Consultation for now is free,
No hidden added extra fees:
You buy two, you get three.

     north to south, east to west

The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man won't rest.

I've heard his feet are cloven;
The eyes are yellow, lips look swollen;
He has *******, wears silk- woven.
He sweats like water to the lowest level;
He's quicker than the slyest devil,
Selling hell, but we hear heaven;
Doing so twenty-four seven.

He photo-shops secret desires,
Twists truth-tellers into liars;
Artful, wily, scheming, subtle,
The Who-Gee Boo-Gee's a hungry jackal.

     today is the day, yesterday's late,
     tomorrow's a place that just won't wait


I met up with the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man,
Peddling apples from my jardain.
Bunny Mar 2015
One day tears will hit my cheeks - raging hail and empty streets.
One day joy will kiss my lips - soft balloon and vacation trips.
One day sickness will swell my throat - fevered flesh and ***** coats.
One day health will sing my song - common loon and acquitted wrongs.  
One day weakness will force me down - rusty bridge and broken crowns.
One day strength will lift my arms - solid rock and dairy farms.
One day fear will eat my heart - barking dog and missing parts
One day faith will keep my beat - mustard seed and new feats.
One day pain will fill my core  - blazing fire and open sores.
One day love will lead my legs - kind words and scrambled eggs.
One day hate will my itch my knees - long distance and sneaky fees.
One day peace will tickle my toes - green grass and escaping prose.
Michele M Apr 2013
The smell was gagging her.
She no longer felt the constant agony which was a relief but the smell indicted
A severe infection
Perhaps she would get lucky and cross the veil soon
Her day of execution was coming upon her
She could hear stakes being placed and wagons
Delivering peat, coal, and wood
Oh how she feared the burning
Once as a child she burnt her hand in her father’s smithie
She cried till her mother rubbed a poultice of comfrey upon it
She never forgot the pain of that burn
All  the comfrey in the world was not going ease her pain after tomorrow

She remembered growing up hiding in the hay mound
Watching her father
It fascinated her, turning hot molten metal into something useful
Working the elements her father would say was an honor.
She secretly yearned to do the same but her father said it was ’men’s’ work
So when not in the fields her brothers got to spend time with their father not she

Not that she minded spending time with her grams
Learning the healing arts
Using herbs and precious stones with magical properties
Working the elements but in a more subtle way
But she was more drawn to her fathers work
And look where her grams legacy has gotten her now
If she had been allowed to work with her father and brothers she thought bitterly….

She tried to move and felt an instant stab of pain where her bones had once been
Her right foot was nothing more but dangling rotting flesh
The Malleous Malficarum meant nothing it seemed
The traveling inquisitors did not receive the confession they sought
She refused to confess even under torture
So instead she would burn to purify her soul  
They would get their entertainment
As would her village

She heard moaning coming from the cell next to hers
It was her neighbor old Hatty Beckwith
She had been accused by Ned Higbee of consorting with the devil and killing livestock
The whole village knows Ned wants her land for the water
This was insane
The inquisitors fees for Hatty would come from Hatty’s estate she supposed
She wondered how her father and brothers would manage to pay her fees
She heard the guards talk and say the expenses for torture and burning were great
As were the cost for their food, drink, and their diversions
As if torturing were not enough entertainment

The sound of screaming suddenly pierced her senses
Someone was being pulled on the rack again
She knew that pain too well
Not being able to stand the smell of blood and listen to the screams any longer
She struggled to crawl to the dark corner of the cell
She lost track of time being in the dark for so long
Only seeing slivers of light through the opening of doors
As the guards came and went
But she calculated Samhain would soon arrive
Possibly even this evening

The village would be preparing and celebrating
The ending of the last harvest and the beginning of a new year
Honoring their dead ancestors
Setting a place for them at the table
She wondered if her father and brothers would set a place for her next year
Telling her tale as they have done for her mother and her grandmother before her
About now her brothers would be taking stock of the herds and grains
Deciding which animals to slaughter
Preparing stores of meat, fruits, and vegetables
In order to help them survive the coming winter

A huge bonfire would be lit in the village
And the villagers would extinguish all other fires
Each family lighting their hearth from the common flame
Bonding the families of the village together.
One big happy family she thought with irony
She still knew not who turned her in
But one thing she was sure of and that was fear changed people
Or maybe it only brought out their true selves

She shifted trying to get comfortable and began to drift off into a merciful sleep
When she awoke hours later she sensed a difference in the air
She heard drums keeping time
And she could see and smell old autumn leaves gently swirling in her cell
She thought she saw a gate, opening wide
And from this gate appeared the dark mother in her terrible naked glory

She froze -fear overtaking her
She closed her eyes tightly only to feel a gentle touch
Her mind crossing another’s
And when she found the strength to open her eyes
There stood her mothers mother

Her grandmother’s arms inviting
She stands, pain forgotten
She feels the nights stretching behind the days till
She reaches the darkness where all of her is ancestor
It is who she has been all along
She is ready for this journey, crossing the dark river
Into the country of death

She will join her ancestors and her witch sisters
Breathing freer knowing that her death
Will shed her of her female body
Cleansing her of the sin of being a woman
Who is more than the sum of her part’s
Taking the dark mothers hand, now hearing whispering and laughing
Her grandmother smiles and she sees the moon and stars above her
They cross the veil together, the gate gently closing behind them

She understands clearly now
In Mabs cold womb life will start again
A child of light to begin a new
The wheel continues to spin, the cycle continues
And she will always be a part of it all ~M
Clare Coffey Feb 2017
Mine became a life of chaos
Lived on the edge of a knife
Balanced for eternity
Caught between death and life

In the end the fear of living
Burned me to the very core
Without my anaesthetic
I knew I could take no more

There was no fight left in me
I had no heart that I could give
I had no way of surviving
It cost me too much to live

Into a well of silence
I breathed a desperate prayer
Uncertain of an answer
Or who might be out there

As I listened in confusion
The solution came to me
Live a life of honesty
The truth could set me free

So I stepped in the future
I discovered my true worth
And after the death of winter
Came spring my season of rebirth
Last of the seasonal quartet about life; depression and addiction
Kaitlin Evers Jul 2018
You draw me gently near  
Letting me know I have nothing to fear
Your touch soothing as a breeze
You've set my beating heart at ease

But before I was so close to you
A bridge had to be set
To link our great divide
Yes it was you
Who paid my debt
And sent Your Son who died

It was Him they did seize
When it should've been me
Twasn't but ordinary fees
But still You thought it worth your Son to save humanity
Devashish Kumar Mar 2015
She was vengeful.
But against whom could she retribute her vengeance?
The rich guy who ***** her and ruined her life?
The police for harassing her in the name of interrogation?
Lawyers who tormented her and ***** her all over again with the twenty questions?
The inconsiderate jury who were bent on paying their children's school fees?
The lab assistant for lying to the jury that she had absolutely no sign of being ***** and she was making this up only because she got pregnant in the act?
The parents and teachers of the evil vandal who made him that way?
The media who were more interested in making it to the front page rather than sympathizing with her?
The government for taking safety precautions so lightly?
Neighbours who looked her down with contempt?
Or herself for not being strong enough to protect herself.
Whom could she blame?
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
Because man made spheres of synergy are treading on the verge of life support
No cooperation within the conglomerations
Perhaps we need brotherhood outside the cubical
The economy failing
Middle class working heroes about to **** themselves
But they have no money to buy a gun…out the window it is!
As insurance men and tax collectors and bill collectors beat a smile from my face with overturn fees and late fees with interest
And are all my reactions just misplaced projections?
I say **** ‘em I have no money
I’ll pay you when I can
What more can I do?
PIRO May 2018
This is Nigeria

This is Nigeria; presidency turns sick leave.  

This is Nigeria; one-sided democracy.  

Double standard constitution, everything is dazy.

This is Nigeria; police bus be calling crowd.

Enter and become cowed.  


This is Nigeria; best graduating student gets a thousand naira.

This is Nigeria; I hope we can differentiate between private and public institutions.

Lackadaisical attitudes everywhere, except religion institutions.

This is Nigeria; over a year strike in our foremost sector but it's  a norm.

Corruption; a living form.


This is Nigeria; education is dull.

This is Nigeria; economy problem is solved by increased school fees.

Such government still gets a second term. Madness; it's our liss.

This is Nigeria; lot of resources but we still pray for light.

Food, security and rights.


This is Nigeria; lecturers give grades anyhow.

This is Nigeria; Animal is swallowing money.

In a government with the main aim of fighting corruption, it's funny.

This is Nigeria; politicians changing parties.

Playing with our lives like they're *******.


Peter Oyebanji (PIRO)
#ThisIsNigeria
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
If money be the root
Of all evil, let evil take root
And blossom into roses
To sweeten my tuition fees.
I move onto University next year. Here's hoping I get a decent loan.
shaqila Dec 2013
Asians are identical; we all look the same to Western people
2. Asians have small eyes, sometimes a monolid and wear glasses
3. Asians have straight black hair
4. Asians are short, petite, whatever you want to call it
5. Asian women have small curves
6. Asian mums nag about posture
7. Asian parents want their daughters to dress conservatively and ladylike which means hair tied back and skirts to at least the knees
8. Asian mums thinks beauty items are unneccessary, saying "Stop wasting your time and money trying to look pretty and get studying!"
9. Asians have no fashion sense. A dress with runners? Sure. Crocs? Why not, they're comfortable.
10. Asians parents think fifteen is too young for a girl to be wearing high heels
11. Asian parents hate unnatural changes to appearance with exception to double eyelid surgery and tattooed eyebrows
12. Asian names are unpleasant when translated into English e.g. **, ****
13. Asian surnames have little variety
14. Asian eat rice every day because it is considered the meal i.e. side dishes doesn't make an adequate dinner
15. Asians eat strange things like duck, chicken feet and shark fin.
16. Asians love bubble tea
17. Asians find no shame in slurping
18. Asians must get A+ grades because A = average, B = bad, C = crap, D = Disowned, F = ******
19. Asians are maths brainiacs
20. Asians cannot speak engrish
21. Tutoring because 6 hours of school is for lazy people
22. Asians think holidays are the opportunity to get ahead of others in school
23. Everyday conversation includes "Have you studied yet?"
24. Asians should learn the piano or violin and preferably to concert level
25. Doctor is the best aspiration
26. If it's not a birthday party, there is little reason to go out when that time can be spent studying or practicing an instrument  
27. Asians enjoy Kpop and Jpop even when they don't understand the language
28. Asians take luvos and sticky photos with cute aegyo poses
29. Asian parents hope their daughters will not let any boy touch their hand, just like in Asian dramas
30. Asian parents ban girls from sleepovers, parties at night and outings with boys
31. Asian parents think their kids shouldn't date until university and even then, is still too young
32. Asians talk very loudly
33. Asian parents wake up the household with loud noises such as vacuuming or turning up the tv
34. Asian parents talk for far too long when they meet other Asian parents
35. Asian parents love to compare their children against other children
36. Every conversation with parents turn out to be a life lesson
37. Asians are stingy and will always hunt for money that's owed to them
38. Asians believe there is never a time when they should pay optional fees or full price for a commercial item
39. Asians are terrible drivers
40. Asians have some sort of kung fu power
41. Old Asians get together and learn tai chi
42. Asians wear slippers inside the house
43. Tigerbalm is their secret weapon
44. Asians have a piano in their living room
45. Asians go to an Asian language school
46. Asian mums tattoo their eyebrows
47. Asians use these emoticons: ^^, ><, O.O, T_T etc.
48. Asians use "la~" in instant messenging
49. Asians sing kareoke
ottaross Aug 2015
"Lost love spell caster voodoo spells"
The spammy text-posts read
Let's write them off, as so much bunk
That nobody would heed.

"Love marriage specialist
in Ahmedabad" said another
Finally you could be betrothed
And satisfy your mother!

Voodoo spells and marriage vows
For only a few rupees,
The challenges of life, all quickly solved,
With very modest fees.
Fora  few days the HelloPoetry site was over run with spam poems all saying the same awkward phrases, as featured in this piece. Thought it would be fun fodder for a poem.
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
Heart Burst Anthology

Writing while my hands hurt,
in intermediate inspirational bursts,
writing till my hands break or my heart bursts,
never been a second placer so I’ll take whichever comes first,

until then I’ll author our collective anthology,

and offer no disrespected apologies,
for verse after verse after verse,
until I go from driving in this Benz,
to riding in that hearse,

no apologies,
from me for anything of course,
because I am just a writer,
that writes with no remorse,

why should I apologize when I am not a part of the courts,
I’ve never taken anyones freedom or filed any reports,
I’m not God so it’s not my job,
to decide the direction of another man’s course,

still it hurts,
because they offer no apologies for their crooked policies,
locking young men up behind bars,
for simply being born,
as if life itself is a crime,

all the while,
these boys in blue commit constitutional treason,
they’ve got quotas to fill and time to ****,
so they’re quick to lock a kid up without any real reason!

And the ironic thing is,
it’s all done on the tax payers dollar,
the same citizens that pay the court’s bills,
get locked up and charged fees that are increasingly higher.

Dear Sire,
when did we become serfs on our own turf,
slaves on our own streets,
since when is it a crime to want to feed your family,
trying to make ends meet just to make ends meat?

Everybody’s gotta eat.

so we slave all day and work all night,
something's not right I’m downtown feeling uptight,

suspecting there's a plot and it's sinister,
uneasy feeling queasy thinking everyone’s suspicious of me,
reflecting and feeling like a prisoner,
or at least a suspect of strangers assumptions what’s the remedy,

slavery isn’t dead,
nothing’s been abolished,
the clothes have just changed,
and now the chains are just more polished,

and all this,
makes me write compulsively,
so hopefully when I’m gone,
future generations can read our collective anthology,

written without any filters or apologies,
no disrespective apologies honestly we're making up words,
and adding words to proses similar to concrete and roses,
I told you before that everything is real and that is for sure.

Let me be known,

let it be known,

we are here,
we are struggling and we are human,
we deserve the basic human rights that all peoples deserve,
see it’s difficult to rest my case when the long arm of the law keeps pursuing,

what are we doing,
what does it matter,
what will be will be,
I just hope that we’ll be a factor,

as we're,

adding words to emotions,
that we write with undying devotion,
no need for promotion when you're one with the ocean,
of interwoven showmen golden women and unbound emotions,

the Soul,
has been awoken,
and in return for your token gesture,
I offer you this token poem,

it’s a labor of love,
so I write even when my hands hurt,
and I’ll keep writing till my hands break or my heart bursts,
‘cause I’ve never been a second placer so I’ll take whichever comes first…

– ∆  Aaron LA Lux ∆ –


Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
THT1 is #2 worldwide right now.
Thank you SO much!

https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
Dr Sam Burton Sep 2014
Whales have no wings to fly
But they have eyes to cry

Whales are so big but kind
They're not easy to find

Whales are definitely so nice
**** them not to eat with rice.


Today is Saturday, Sept. 28, the 269th day of 2014 with 94 to follow.

The moon is waxing. Morning stars are Jupiter, Uranus and Venus. Evening stars are Mars, Mercury, Neptune and Saturn.


In 1825, in England, George Stephenson operated the first locomotive to pull a passenger train.



A thought for the day:



No place epitomizes the American experience and the American spirit more than New York City. -- Michael Bloomberg.



QUOTES FOR THE DAY:




He who is void of virtuous attachments in private life is, or very soon will be, void of all regard for his country. There is seldom an instance of a man guilty of betraying his country, who had not before lost the feeling of moral obligations in his private connections.

------------------------

How strangely will the Tools of a Tyrant pervert the plain Meaning of Words!



Samuel Adams



In university they don't tell you that the greater part of the law is learning to tolerate fools.




Doris Lessing




“The character inherent in the American people has done all that has been accomplished; and it would have done somewhat more, if the government had not sometimes got in its way.”



Henry David Thoreau



"Everything you can imagine is real."



Pablo Picasso



“Ugly. Is irrelevant. It is an immeasurable insult to a woman, and then supposedly the worst crime you can commit as a woman. But ugly, as beautiful, is an illusion.”



Margaret Cho




POETRY




TO THE THAWING WIND



Robert Frost





Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snowbank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do tonight,
Bathe my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door.


About this poem
"To the Thawing Wind" was first published in Frost's collection "A Boy's Will" (Holt, 1915).

About Robert Frost
Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco. He was the recipient of four Pulitzer Prizes during his lifetime and read at President John F. Kennedy's inauguration. Frost died in Boston on Jan. 29, 1963.

*
The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day[at]poets.org.



This poem is in the public domain.
Distributed by King Features Syndicate





A TIP FOR WOMEN




Choosing Eyeliner



Make sure the color of your eyeliner complements your eyes. Dark brown eyes benefit from plum shades. If you have lighter eyes, try navy and charcoal. Brown eyeliner works well no matter what color your eyes are!




JOKES



WHALES



A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.

The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.

The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.

Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.

The little girl: said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".

The teacher: asked, " What if Jonah went to hell?"

The little girl: replied, "Then you ask him".





JURY SELECTION

The tiresome jury selection process continued, each side hotly contesting and dismissing potential jurors. Don O'Brian was called for his question session.

"Property holder?"

"Yes, I am, Your Honor."

"Married or single?"

"Married for twenty years, Your Honor."

"Formed or expressed an opinion?"

"Not in twenty years, Your Honor."





Questionable Predictions



Nostradamus recently turned 500. Here are some other predictions from lesser lights:

- Law will be simplified (over the next century). Lawyers will have diminished, and their fees will have been vastly curtailed. --Junius Henri Browne 1893

- By 1960, work will be limited to three hours a day. --John Langdon-Davies

- Hurrah, Boys, we've caught them napping. We'll finish them up and go home to our station. --George A. Custer, 1876, prior to the Battle of Little Big Horn

- Get rid of the pointed-ears guy. --NBC executive, regarding Mr. Spock of STAR TREK, 1966

- Telephones (will) bring peace on earth, eliminate Southern accents, and save the farm by making farmers less lonely. --printed in THE WALL STREET JOURNAL, Century-old Pronouncements, 1995





Stupid True Headlines



- Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says

- Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers

- Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should Be Belted

- Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case

- Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents

- Farmer Bill Dies in House

- Iraqi Head Seeks Arms

- Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?

- Stud Tires Out

- Prostitutes Appeal to Pope

- Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over

- Soviet ****** Lands Short of Goal Again

- British Left Waffles on Falkland Islands

- Lung Cancer in Women Mushrooms

- Eye Drops off Shelf

- Teacher Strikes Idle Kids

- Include your Children When Baking Cookies

- Squad Helps Dog Bite Victim

- Shot Off Woman's Leg Helps Nicklaus to 66

- Enraged Cow Injures Farmer with Axe

- Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told

- Miners Refuse to Work after Death

- Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant

- Stolen Painting Found by Tree

- Two Soviet Ships Collide, One Dies

- Two Sisters Reunited after 18 Years in Checkout Counter

- Killer Sentenced to Die for Second Time in 10 Years



- Never Withhold ****** Infection from Loved One

- Drunken Drivers Paid $1000 in '84

- War Dims Hope for Peace

- If Strike isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last a While

- Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures

- Enfields Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide

- Red Tape Holds Up New Bridge

- Deer **** 17,000

- Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

- Man Struck by Lightning Faces Battery Charge

- New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group

- Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft

- Kids Make Nutritious Snacks

- Chef Throws His Heart into Helping Feed Needy

- Arson Suspect is Held in Massachusetts Fire

- British Union Finds Dwarfs in Short Supply

- Ban On Soliciting Dead in Trotwood

- Lansing Residents Can Drop Off Trees

- Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half

- New Vaccine May Contain Rabies

- Man Minus Ear Waives Hearing

- Deaf College Opens Doors to Hearing

- Air Head Fired

- Steals Clock, Faces Time

- Prosecutor Releases Probe into Undersheriff

- Old School Pillars are Replaced by Alumni

- Bank Drive-in Window Blocked by Board

- Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors

- Some Pieces of Rock Hudson Sold at Auction

- *** Education Delayed, Teachers Request Training





HAVE A FABULOUS SUNDAY!
Maya Aug 2018
is it normal
to stand in my bathroom
for ten minutes
at 2:20 a.m.
pepper spray in hand
door locked
listening for footsteps
waiting for my breathing
to become less ragged
so i can run into my bedroom
check my closet
and under my bed
for monsters that only
come from my head?

is it normal to stare into the mirror
crying
wondering if that's really you in it
because you don't recognize
your own reflection
after checking behind
the shower curtain at least four times?
there's a reason i never want
to live alone.

is it normal that
even when i am alone
it fees like i am being watched
cameras, mirrors, windows of houses and people on the street.
they're waiting to laugh at me
or ****** me
or kidnap me
or stare at me
the list goes on.

everyone is out to get me
which i know isn't true
but that doesn't make
the feeling
go away.
i see you, government agent reading this.
Zach Abler May 2014
I can't come to a point of understanding
Doubters and their condescension.
Seeing the life beyond seeing,
It is Life Himself they're questioning.

When Life came unbounded by space and time,
When Life lived like sand but even more fine,
Came to live with us, came from no matter how far.
Came to us on Earth, Bright and Morning Star.

In tranquil birth, caused the wise to fall on their knees,
Come in, sinner, needing no tax or fees.

In peaceful death, caused all the Earth to be forever quaking,
A click shot to the head, Death is crippled, walks without stinging.

I can't seem to understand, how unclear it can be,
How can Doubters call illogical, loving unconditionally.

How can they call the breaking of chains, a fake institution of freedom.
When Life came, and saw through our shame and called us inheritors of His Kingdom.

In tranquil birth, in peaceful death,
Beyond the grave, a victor in defeat.
In tranquil birth, in peaceful death,
I still don't get your lack of belief.
Wuji Dec 2011
Imperfections, Imperfections, Imperfections
Imperfections,
Imperfections, Imperfections.

That's all that she sees.
Looking at the mirror,
Markin herself up,
With a thousand fees.

Sees something that,
She don't like,
She has to workout,
Go for a hike.

She doesn't like,
The way she looks.
Gonna fix herself up,
With some needles and hooks.

Sees everything bad,
Though she looks good.
But some people knock her down,
Knowing she'd call the vultures to pick her for food.

But what she don't get,
About herself,
Is that a high opinion of you,
Is true wealth.

Also she must think,
About others.
Tell an obese woman,
That you are the fat one when you stand in-font of her.

Tell the starving boy,
That you're the scrawny dude.
Tell the average American,
You eat too much food.

Think about what you say,
Cause someone might have it worse.
Don't say you want to die,
Like the dear family member in the hearse.

Remember that the perfection of something,
Is what you think is right.
But how can anything be so,
When we have all lost sight?
For those who play "I spy" on themselves looking for every unwanted detail.
Jacob Sykes Feb 2013
seedy motels crowded with undesirables
shooting up
smoking ****
toothless ******* for a fix
welcome to America
home of the brave
and the crack den
what a beautiful country ours is
majestic purple mountains
slick black tar ******
amber waves of grain
skid row and soup kitchens
the struggle to survive
we fight to stay alive
land of the free
but free has hidden fees
free love?
Aids'll stop ya
free health care?
Get out you ****** *******
free speech?
Only if you don't mind mace
Here the dom in freedom means *******
******* of the free
we go through it all like marionettes
glassy eyed and blank faces
our strings pulled by wealthy men
we become older and older until death
and don't forget the debt
that will be your children's problem
Jack D Serna Sep 2016
Pizza--the only I want to poor my feelings onto
Because when I think of its filling capacity--
Its carb-heavy, fat drenched, and sugary-savory goodness--
I honor the people who continue the artisinal craft.

Pizza--it's the food for all hungers.
It fills you with energy when you're high,
Just after a win with a cheery, rowdy gang of five.
It's the traditional topping on the pie.

Pizza--All and everything, when the time calls.
When the emptiness cannot be filled,
Let it be filled with years of associations.
All in good company, Pizza, my best friend.

So I met a new person today--quiet and resourceful,
She was counting her inventory,
Solving a problem set or learning a new trick.
I barged in while she put aside her life for mine.

She said, "What may you have, sir?"
"A medium with pepperoni," I said, "and linguica, please".
That was all that's said  as she carried on her fees.
"That'll be $18.05," and a shot of guilt charged me.

Pizza, though poor my feelings how expensive the taste!
When, just then, she collected the money
The pizza was all too simply done and I was on my way.
I was the one left, saying, " Well, enjoy your weekend!"

But as I drove and the pizza aromatized,
Neither she nor I were free from capitalized.
A self-disciplined pizza artist, stripped of her dough,
Like the boy who made chocolate with a molinillo.
Give me my scallop shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
My bottle of salvation,
My gown of glory, hope’s true gage,
And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage.

  Blood must be my body’s balmer,
No other balm will there be given,
Whilst my soul, like a white palmer,
Travels to the land of heaven;
Over the silver mountains,
Where spring the nectar fountains;
And there I’ll kiss
The bowl of bliss,
And drink my eternal fill
On every milken hill.
My soul will be a-dry before,
But after it will ne’er thirst more;
And by the happy blissful way
More peaceful pilgrims I shall see,
That have shook off their gowns of clay,
And go apparelled fresh like me.
I’ll bring them first
To slake their thirst,
And then to taste those nectar suckets,
At the clear wells
Where sweetness dwells,
Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.

  And when our bottles and all we
Are fill’d with immortality,
Then the holy paths we’ll travel,
Strew’d with rubies thick as gravel,
Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors,
High walls of coral, and pearl bowers.

  From thence to heaven’s bribeless hall
Where no corrupted voices brawl,
No conscience molten into gold,
Nor forg’d accusers bought and sold,
No cause deferr’d, nor vain-spent journey,
For there Christ is the king’s attorney,
Who pleads for all without degrees,
And he hath angels, but no fees.
When the grand twelve million jury
Of our sins and sinful fury,
‘Gainst our souls black verdicts give,
Christ pleads his death, and then we live.
Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader,
Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder,
Thou movest salvation even for alms,
Not with a bribed lawyer’s palms.
And this is my eternal plea
To him that made heaven, earth, and sea,
Seeing my flesh must die so soon,
And want a head to dine next noon,
Just at the stroke when my veins start and spread,
Set on my soul an everlasting head.
Then am I ready, like a palmer fit,
To tread those blest paths which before I writ.
Yenson Feb 2019
Woman child, man child, Kidadults
I hear your voices, I feel your pain,
I was pushed on the tracks you walk
I see the sorrows of the known and unknown days
the hopelessness of feeling insignificant
the destitutes of needs unmet, wants unattainable
the searing pain of the unsupported, the pitiful cries unheard
the anger of mediocrity, the stupefying lull of mundanity
that shaming feeling of feeling disrespected and unworthy

I can appreciate your rages and outrages
the compulsion to lash out, to hate, to get back at them
the frustrations that begets violence, the creeping disillusionments
the insecurities, the fears, the paralyses, the absence of stability
that pervasive feeling of inadequacies of minds unfulfilled
the crazed tensions that always sits at the door and gnawed often
the need for escapisms, to drink and live recklessly atimes
the pain that bornes rejections of cooperation with those others
the sheer horrors that make you think the world is against you

But I've been one of you even before I was made one of you
I come from the capital of Suffering, paid fees at Adversity alley
I too know what it's like to go hungry, to do without
Know what it's like to yell in frustration and bemoan my lot
while the wealthy kids swarmed around with foreign goodies
I know the humiliation being barred from class and school lessons
because my school fees were late in coming and being laughed at
but I had parents who gave tough love and bred worthy sons
and values to work hard, stand tall and respect your name

Don't look at others, be positive, be the best you can be
be helpful, be polite, be kind and fear your God but nothing else
you are a man, go like a man and never ever take what's not yours
Be grateful for what you have anf thankful for the privilege
Yes, I had breaks, but I stand knowing I earned from my sweat
and nothing was expected or given or taken for nothing
so Yes, I know suffering and hardship ain't going to break me now
No woman, I was bred to care for, love and provide, *****, they are not for ****** release, or comforter to abate my pain or strifes
Loneliness is nothing, I have slept in dark forest and quiet beaches
I have faced darkness and fears that would traumatize older men

Destroying me achieves nothing other than glorify inhumanity
there will always be talented people who seem to have more
these days the're few elitists only does who took opportunities
If you want to change the palaces, do a Megan Mackle
Be good enough to marry inside and change lives from within
Hating privileged serves no purpose other than reinforce them
You can bring the walls down from the inside better than outside
Hate destroys the haters, why court cancer when love cures all

Woman child, man child, Kidadults
I hear your voices, I feel your pain,
I have walked the tracks you walk
I know well the sorrows of the known and unknown days
I can talk the talk and walk the walk
I have done it more than any of you born in the West.....
song shadows
soul and mirrors
will we ever see clearer
sweet life
oh the fragrance
the righteous mind
un-sees the danger
so many soldiers
so many women
are all of our fathers
really little children
move swiftly
into the windy recesses
the mind regresses
all the time
damp and wet
the owl cries
so long tomorrow
farewell goodbye
dunk your head
in liquid splendor
i am tender as the snow
pouring down from heaven’s fiefdom
morning's hunger is dissipated
by moonlight kisses and salty lovers
salves of calendula upon our skin
swim in juicy wonder
listen and dance with thunder
the fireflies swim through burning skies
making arcs and triumphant cries
what a silly blunder
all the noise and all the cover
hiding your heart in violet garments
streams of satin in your slumber
stroke the liberated arrow
weave the gardenia’s shadow
streams of consciousness and beauty
looking into eyes of human strategy
human shadows
start to suffocate us
instruct the timber
plundered
strumming humid arias
looms of butter start to melt
svelte and spelt
slews of wealth
heaven's belt is loosely tied
striated like the mind
grinding hind legs
selves neglect entry fees
sleeves of grass
embrace strands of ice
with a lover or two
on the side
shaqila Dec 2013
I am Blasianic(black, asian, latin mix)
Asians are identical; we all look the same to Western people
2. Asians have small eyes, sometimes a monolid and wear glasses
3. Asians have straight black hair
4. Asians are short, petite, whatever you want to call it
5. Asian women have small curves
6. Asian mums nag about posture
7. Asian parents want their daughters to dress conservatively and ladylike which means hair tied back and skirts to at least the knees
8. Asian mums thinks beauty items are unneccessary, saying "Stop wasting your time and money trying to look pretty and get studying!"
9. Asians have no fashion sense. A dress with runners? Sure. Crocs? Why not, they're comfortable.
10. Asians parents think fifteen is too young for a girl to be wearing high heels
11. Asian parents hate unnatural changes to appearance with exception to double eyelid surgery and tattooed eyebrows
12. Asian names are unpleasant when translated into English e.g. **, ****
13. Asian surnames have little variety
14. Asian eat rice every day because it is considered the meal i.e. side dishes doesn't make an adequate dinner
15. Asians eat strange things like duck, chicken feet and shark fin.
16. Asians love bubble tea
17. Asians find no shame in slurping
18. Asians must get A+ grades because A = average, B = bad, C = crap, D = Disowned, F = ******
19. Asians are maths brainiacs
20. Asians cannot speak engrish
21. Tutoring because 6 hours of school is for lazy people
22. Asians think holidays are the opportunity to get ahead of others in school
23. Everyday conversation includes "Have you studied yet?"
24. Asians should learn the piano or violin and preferably to concert level
25. Doctor is the best aspiration
26. If it's not a birthday party, there is little reason to go out when that time can be spent studying or practicing an instrument  
27. Asians enjoy Kpop and Jpop even when they don't understand the language
28. Asians take luvos and sticky photos with cute aegyo poses
29. Asian parents hope their daughters will not let any boy touch their hand, just like in Asian dramas
30. Asian parents ban girls from sleepovers, parties at night and outings with boys
31. Asian parents think their kids shouldn't date until university and even then, is still too young
32. Asians talk very loudly
33. Asian parents wake up the household with loud noises such as vacuuming or turning up the tv
34. Asian parents talk for far too long when they meet other Asian parents
35. Asian parents love to compare their children against other children
36. Every conversation with parents turn out to be a life lesson
37. Asians are stingy and will always hunt for money that's owed to them
38. Asians believe there is never a time when they should pay optional fees or full price for a commercial item
39. Asians are terrible drivers
40. Asians have some sort of kung fu power
41. Old Asians get together and learn tai chi
42. Asians wear slippers inside the house
43. Tigerbalm is their secret weapon
44. Asians have a piano in their living room
45. Asians go to an Asian language school
46. Asian mums tattoo their eyebrows
47. Asians use these emoticons: ^^, ><, O.O, T_T etc.
48. Asians use "la~" in instant messenging
49. Asians sing kareoke
Julie Grenness Feb 2016
Who controls our banking?
Ruinous fees for money lending.
Who questions their investing?
Why so dear for money dealing?
Who does profit from accounting?
Our finances they're controlling,
While our economy they're ruining,
They're amassing fortunes pecuniary,
Big business for them, commercially.
Let's question their accountability
For our faceless Australian economy,
Profits overseas they're sending---
So much for Australian banking!!!
This is not even funny. Feedback welcome.
Cry Sebastian Jan 2010
The flowers fall like sweeties
in the packet of my mind.
The answer flows completely
from the hand that stops the time.

The questions that were seeking
could potentially leave us blind
to the poetry that's creeping
to the rhythm of the times.
  
The finders fees of finding gold
are deeply grained in laws.
The crawling finger grasping
for the love of ***** ******.

The sailor tongues are swaggering
with anticipating  throws,
of innocent and eloquent
shows of pretty hoes.
They should fall. no question.
This has become ridiculous too long 'cause now it's debt'ning.
Becoming blacklisted before forty ain't legit man,
And this being a result of our continued sorrow stories gets me lit - ****.
We're proving that we are more the turn up,
So get the fees moving if you don't want some riots turning up
Listen to the kids bruh, I swear you'll hear the message
that the world needs to listen to for the future not to perish.
We are no Boxers but
hard we work and know our worth and its perks,
And so - like Donald - we deserve all the benefits
We are evidently the scorned for these greedy leaders
Who make empty promises and want more of the nothing we receive it's,
Sickening how the greed has got to their heads so the truth's a blur,
And the reasoning heads to a 0, back to being a baby.
The only 0 that's needed is the percentage of the increase
of fees and the brutality of the police is really of no need,
We fight peacefully and you go around killing and crippling our peeps.
But we won't stop, we the black sheep and donkeys that refuse to listen
to the bull unless it's what we want and it's a continued vision.
Although it may take a bit longer for you to see it,
It'll happen eventually, you'll 20/20 see, the whole thing,
But for now we shall protest and fight for our right
'Cause we're tired - #FeesMustFall - and we shant listen to any Squealer's plight
This is putting to light what the students are crying about and why there are so many marches, poverty has been a struggle to a black child and they want this to be rid of and change history, and besides that, the ridiculous amounts of tuition fees should not go any higher. We are making a change.
Klaryssa May 2016
Some people collect shoes
Rocks
Or thimbles

Some collect sweatshirts from past lovers
Broken hearts
Or postage stamps

Some collect coins
Drug habits
Gray hairs
Or spray paint cans from a long since forgotten youth

Yet others collect inhibitions
Reasons
And excuses

Some collect “you”
Or “you’s”
Or poetry
Or friendship bracelets
Maybe middle school dance playlists

Others collect stories
Maybe narratives
They keep writing the same one on different people

Some collect complimentary hotel soaps
Some collect cities
Some collect letters

Some people collect jewels
Some people are jewels
That other people collect

I collect buttons
I collect broken cell phone fees
I collect cracked nails and peeling purple polish
I collect frogs
And tadpoles

I collect tastes
I collect kisses
I collect lamp shades so I can feel like a light

I collect memories that remind me of other memories
I collect poetry that isn’t ever finished
I collect poetry that needs stitching
I collect old sewing projects and call it a metaphor
I collect metaphors
And anaphoras
And literary devices

I collect bible verses I wish I understood
I collect inky pens
I collect stares at my left wrist directed at a small tattoo
I collect red pen marks on all my  essays because I use commas, as rhetorical strategies

Some people collect family members
I collected them too

Some people collect fees
I am still paying for you

I collect friendship
I try to give it back

Some people collect famous one liners
Some people collect 15 seconds of fame
Some collect an arsenal of hate

Some people only ever collect time
Sometimes that is enough

Some collect too many cells in one place
Some collect hospital bills
Some collect lemons
And never have tasted lemonade

Others collect wisdom
Others simply don’t

Others collect different countries and flags
That they willingly accept
Others simply won’t

Most people collect rules
Of things they aren’t able to collect

Most people never collect themselves
Most people don’t realize
                        That they could.
Everyone is but the sum of what they have collected: of their collections. Thank you for adding to mine.
Poets from all over the world are invited to submit their original poems to Mombasa poetry anthology 2016.These anthology is organized by the Kenyan society of poets and literary scholars. It is out of literary and cultural recognition of the historical fact that Mombasa and its environs is home man, it is an indisputable home to all types of people in all their capacities and stations. It is historically evident that, at least a European, an African, Asian, Indian, American, Australian or Chinese have a home in Mombasa. This has been the case from as early as 7 AD. When the Oman Arabs landed at the east African coast in the moon-son wind driven dhows.
This anthology will be published Kenya, as a print version latest by December 2016, under the title, ANTHEM OF HOPE.   The anthology will have a collection of 2000 poems, written in English, or written in any other language but accompanied with a translation to English, each poet is allowed to submit three poems, a poem must not exceed 500 words, all poems must be submitted as one document of MS word attachment, the font types to be used are times Romans, the size is 12. The poem can be in any style without having creativity of the poet being decimated by traditional literary canonicity, but as long as the poem will be addressing and not limited to the following themes in relation to Mombasa;
1) Mombasa city, other towns Around Mombasa like Kisumayu, Lamu, Kibino,Hola, Mpeketon, Bamburi, Malindi, Watamu, Gede, Matsangoni, kilifi, Vipingo, Takaungu, Mtwapa, Shimo la tewa, Bamburi, Likoni,ukunda,wa,msambweni,lunga Lunga,Vanga , Shimoni, Tanga,msofala, Dar salam and Zanzibar, as well as Mariakani and Voi,taita,taveta and Arusha,
2) Mombasa people, The miji-kenda,arabs,European, bajuni, Indians, and any other in relation to Mombasa
3) Mombasa features like the Indian ocean, likon ferry, fort jesus,beaches,vasco da Gama pillar, nyali bridge,Makupa cause way and any other feature,
4) Mombasa populations; Christians, muslim,LGBTI,drug addicts, the deaf, blind, scrotal elephantiasis victims,dwarfs,jinis and any other in realtion to Mombasa,
5) Mombasa fauna and flora, kilifi trees, mango trees, palm wine tree, crow birds, cats, flies, vultures,snakes,pythons Mombasa
6) Mombasa cultures,womenfolk,weddings, music, donkey-games, stick-games and any other in relation to Mombasa,
7) Mombasa city dynamics, hustles,bustles,Al-shabab, job seeking, youths and behaviour and any other theme ,
8 ) Overall themes to be addressed under the Mombasa city context are; Indian ocean and poetry, family, human rights, climate change, security , poverty, pollution, globalization,migration,corruption,cosmopolitanism,culture,langua­ge,war,refuges,natural resources and any other them pertinent to Mombasa
******, racist, prejudicial or any hate perpetrating poems will not be published, For the poets that will have their poems published there will be a ceremony of spoken word and poetry reading from the published poems in early December  2016 ( exact date will be communicated) on the white sands beach at Sarova hotel.
The last day for submission of your poems is July 31st 2016, the notification about your poem being accepted and yet to be published is 31st august 2016.
Submit your poems along with a bio note of not more than 500 words to the email mombasapoetryanthology@yahoo.com, along with a serial number and a scanned copy of the slip for payment of the handling fees of Kenya shillings 500 or 5 US dollars for the three poems. The account to pay in is Standard Chartered Bank (Kenya) account number; 0100310788200 the swift code is; SCBLKENX and bank code is 02
Five winning poets will be prized in the following order; the first poet will win 5000 US dollars, second poet will win 4000 US dollars, the third will win 3000 US dollars, 2000 US dollars, and lastly 1000 US dollars.
Each published poet will get two copies of the anthology free of charge. Further questions for clarification about the Mombasa Poetry anthology can be emailed mombasapoetryanthology@yahoo.com
Dear son I am dying
So you may live!
I couldn't pay for your son's school fees,
The deepawali sweets and crackers
And your wife's saree,
Nor could I buy you the500cc
Enfield Bullet.I had promised.
My revised pension hasn't yet come.
They have told me to wait,
But I know you can't.
Deepawali crackers are costlier this year
With the boycott of Chinese goods
A big price for patriotism.
My friends tell me that if I die
They will turn me
Into a symbol,
Something very big and important.
Somewhere elections are just round the corner,
There will be a statue
And money and job for you.
They say.
I must die for you to live.
I have lived my life.
Sorry son, I had much to say
But they tell me to hurry.
The facilitator has another appointment to keep
If only I could go with a bullet in my heart
And a few pakis at my feet
And not a sip from the hemlock tree!
Do not gamble with the money you get,
This Deepawali, pay Dipu's fees,
Buy a plot of land,
Take mother to Haridwar.
And yes, get the money and the job
Immediately after I die,  least they forget.
They will promise the world.
They will come, don't worry, make them pay,
Insects always do when there is light.

They call me

I must go

You live..
Notes (optional)
shaqila Dec 2013
I am Blasianic(black, asian, latin mix)
Asians are identical; we all look the same to Western people
2. Asians have small eyes, sometimes a monolid and wear glasses
3. Asians have straight black hair
4. Asians are short, petite, whatever you want to call it
5. Asian women have small curves
6. Asian mums nag about posture
7. Asian parents want their daughters to dress conservatively and ladylike which means hair tied back and skirts to at least the knees
8. Asian mums thinks beauty items are unneccessary, saying "Stop wasting your time and money trying to look pretty and get studying!"
9. Asians have no fashion sense. A dress with runners? Sure. Crocs? Why not, they're comfortable.
10. Asians parents think fifteen is too young for a girl to be wearing high heels
11. Asian parents hate unnatural changes to appearance with exception to double eyelid surgery and tattooed eyebrows
12. Asian names are unpleasant when translated into English e.g. **, ****
13. Asian surnames have little variety
14. Asian eat rice every day because it is considered the meal i.e. side dishes doesn't make an adequate dinner
15. Asians eat strange things like duck, chicken feet and shark fin.
16. Asians love bubble tea
17. Asians find no shame in slurping
18. Asians must get A+ grades because A = average, B = bad, C = crap, D = Disowned, F = ******
19. Asians are maths brainiacs
20. Asians cannot speak engrish
21. Tutoring because 6 hours of school is for lazy people
22. Asians think holidays are the opportunity to get ahead of others in school
23. Everyday conversation includes "Have you studied yet?"
24. Asians should learn the piano or violin and preferably to concert level
25. Doctor is the best aspiration
26. If it's not a birthday party, there is little reason to go out when that time can be spent studying or practicing an instrument  
27. Asians enjoy Kpop and Jpop even when they don't understand the language
28. Asians take luvos and sticky photos with cute aegyo poses
29. Asian parents hope their daughters will not let any boy touch their hand, just like in Asian dramas
30. Asian parents ban girls from sleepovers, parties at night and outings with boys
31. Asian parents think their kids shouldn't date until university and even then, is still too young
32. Asians talk very loudly
33. Asian parents wake up the household with loud noises such as vacuuming or turning up the tv
34. Asian parents talk for far too long when they meet other Asian parents
35. Asian parents love to compare their children against other children
36. Every conversation with parents turn out to be a life lesson
37. Asians are stingy and will always hunt for money that's owed to them
38. Asians believe there is never a time when they should pay optional fees or full price for a commercial item
39. Asians are terrible drivers
40. Asians have some sort of kung fu power
41. Old Asians get together and learn tai chi
42. Asians wear slippers inside the house
43. Tigerbalm is their secret weapon
44. Asians have a piano in their living room
45. Asians go to an Asian language school
46. Asian mums tattoo their eyebrows
47. Asians use these emoticons: ^^, ><, O.O, T_T etc.
48. Asians use "la~" in instant messenging
49. Asians sing kareoke

— The End —