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Aman Dheer Apr 2016
Paradoxes are insurmountable,
Hefty thieves rob the jewels,
Blinded by the ignorance.
The moon shines with a touch,
Of the charming musk lighted
By the fires in the greens and
Browns with the pale leaves.
The old rattles are made up,
Using the broken clay pieces
Which once adored my back wall
And clung onto it like coated nails.
Drip-drops are made by the streaks
With the vast colours in a queue ,
Facing the torments from the crows.
A fiery afternoon sets in a cool setting
And the glares have forcefully blinded me,
Drying up the rich worlds apart.
An old pipe is clogged with a spitted phrase
Blocking our views of the bonafide thoughts
But startling us to complete the puzzle.
The seats are full in the red-chaired theatre,
Enjoying the views of the painted cushions
And the cooked up company of friends…..
VISIT - www.amandheer.wordpress.com for more poems !
This Saltimost Gunk your Innocence bade
Hoping your Fresh Field would spare its Effect
Yet this, my Friend, must Tradition be made
For children's giggles their smiles circumspect
Such is Culture. As such your hands take part
To plead their foresights for Fantasy refresh
Shall you permit these Addles of the Heart
If for the ****-Tube their Malice enmesh
Of course, not all. Yet their Tridents stay sharp
Somehow by flickered minds dry-out their Will
Though others, by ditto, pluck-out your Harp
Anything to sate their Loneliness, still.
Tasty, is it not? On your First Day's visit
As the Red Blimp lands on your palms explicit.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Zane Dec 2020
writhing and screaming
i dreamt in smashed hearts and scarlet eyes
in it, i glimpsed
all the love and support i had bled myself to accomplish
was thrown out in favour of a greener man.
indeed
instead of growing firm from my current status as a support beam
into the proper foundations
you chose to forsake me
for one so much more accomplished than I.

often horrid foresights of this nature plague me
a small tick i cannot rid myself of
each time I dedicate my heart to one, and one alone

the genesis of this disgusting anticipation
might easily be traced to the progenitor
that first yearning i felt so many years ago
it was early in my youth
i fancied myself smitten with a newfound human
after childishly condemning myself to romantic solitude
  at the onset of puberty

she taught me the intensity of infatuation
the lovely languish of being head over heels
and not a fortnight later
sent me into the deepest depths of despair
for what she had sworn to the stars
she quickly replaced with a decree to the devils
"I found one better"

in my guilt and misery
i blamed myself
and forced a conclusion of the following:
these tools i fashioned to show love
do not fit any existing mold.
i, must love too much
must care more than can be beared
must support, beyond what is norm.

yet
as I awake, i breathe in my surroundings
and remind myself that this fear
though cacophonous at my lowest
is nothing more than old hurt
desperately clinging for relevance
in an existence where i know the gifts I bring
are appreciated by those who surround me
and that eventually
they will be welcomed by you.
when you are ready to accept
that which i know you deserve.
Had a night terror that a person I care for a great deal left me once they had achieved a place a positive mental health. I do not support them with hopes of reciprocation, merely that they will recognize I do so because I love them, and that maybe, they deserve love too.
Jay Bryant Dec 2012
Its eye opening
To see the friends
That I use to have
How people use to be.

Things are going wrong
Tho I still sing my song
At the end of the night
My foresights gone
I can't see the light,
Stuck in a dark hole
I cant feel the path
Go straight
Don't swerve
SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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15 of 184

BEYOND CROSSING LANE : TECHNIQUE ' TRAIL' TONGUE

COUCH ALLENS
Mar 8
to Daniel
Beyond Crossing Lane :

Technique ‘Trail’-Tongue

Spiritual razor cope-chat blaze maxima known

Rushcutters…’ Bale’s system of categories camp the rewritten

Approaching subjects to mindset…’ Commonwealth among many of undertaking  sacral privileges, possible to cover every technique and popular tendency to typing ‘anatomy of human psyche like the acknowledgement, spirit rings manuscript, startup for certain specific advisory patterns, great deal to the early nature man’s improvement  view gainful occupation of answerable to the original mechanism helping creations own fieldwork Or through the marrying vision interests and knowledgeable acquaintance, dressers cord of imaginary adolescence indices historical supervision of corporate  ‘body-bearer’ breadth inclusive, role of wife-mother places infinity, frontier individual bases continually occur, making generalizations vast of riding *****.

Recognition of the importance, employment self-security benefits,

Kept recipients non-vulnerable, populate populace of Creators Co-inhibits/ Bashful preferrals ‘Larger-Stream’…Lets Induction…Gaiety Rehearsal Foresights‘Product’-Alliance Rehabilitation Hypotheses.



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Mateuš Conrad Apr 2021
rearranging a rubber- band on my right
hand for "something" that
comes close to a golf handicap...
this "something" is actually more
tangible, though...
to... make the sensation of
sinew more prominent - like an exoskeleton
variety of a visible: contradictory sinew
that does the opposite of
what's already in place: by restraint...
- i hate golf...
i also hate typing-slow....
when you can't type without having
to look down at the keyboard...
why? it's basically underappreciating
the genius of the man
behind: qwerty... christopher latham sholes...
to me? herr c. l. s.
is leagues above the person who
eroded our brains with...
the alphabet...
why wouldn't you put all the vowels
first... and the consonants later?
maybe the alphabet learning should be
rearranged toward
the sequence:
q w e r t y
or...
   q a z
      w s x
          e d c
the rearranging of the sign of the cross
done by catholics... left to right...
otherwise the orthodoxy of right to left...
but why still bother
with the standard alphabetical...
as long as you remember / use... all the letters...
you stack up 26... what's so terribly
important about x y z...
   e f g... h i j...
         k- l, m, n, o p...
let me sit here... an fester on a wound...
let me keep rancid chicken meat
in my fridge long enough...
can you ever begin to fathom the perfumery of:
how meat can give off whiffs of
rancidity?
it's so specific... it's unlike... what national
treasure... dame Judy Dench said...
in chocolate (show-lo'ca)...
ooh... your cinnamon is rancid...
it's chilly powder...
         rancid meat: esp. chicken...
it has an almost acidic whiff about it...
i can still see the doctor... crow pecking at the keyboard...
armed with only two index fingers...
while here i am... utilizing almost all of mine...
sure... the space button
to catch a reel newspaper style "paragraphing":
columns... rubrics... sudoku being done
my "tired" bones of pinky ownership...
- such that each time i take a bicycle
from havering-atte-bower...
into the grid...
of... Loon'dune...
  who's who when having asked for Lee's...
Da'Un!
           the apostrophe cipher...
an intra-verbum pause...
    otherwise? down...
at best English is written as an approximation...
Fwench is worse...
that much can be said...
they leave their letters at the altars
of Moloch before this grand **** of
infanticide... Guld'An: not Gul'Dan...
if i had eyes worth of ice...
and a heart that throbbed wit
guilt... my eyes would not be the colour
of jade to begin with...
while my heart would not be...
the project of one man...
i desire to steal st. paul's cathedral...
i will not be able
to stick a river into the Thames to turn its...
by way... a river with a tide?
where is the cut-off point
between river water and the sort of water
that makes it... undrinkable?
before the salt settles the last hurrah?
if it weren't chicken scratches that might make
a summary of the solo project of scribble with
the one hand... a handwritten river
as hard to decipher as mandarin hieroglyphs
at times...
spawning an trans-generational
itch for ulterior usage of chop-sticks:
mostly used in the pit of the abacus...
you don't have to be prescribed
the alphabet...
you unfathomable you: you don't...
i see someone, able as i am: to use the arrangement
of two hands before a keyboard...
without looking down...
as a tier above the need to arrange
an alphabet like it might imply:
historical significance?
after a while... that sooner than later
disappears...
the alphabet is lost... when having to arrange
words...
what is the point of keeping the need
for the alphabet... my hands are my eyes...
when i sit down to type...
looking at braille might seem more
important by now...
i don't need the alphabet...
well... i might need it...
but learning it is obsolete...
            unless invested in via: vowels first...
consonants later...
vowels? ** in the realm of d.n.a...
      consonants? XY... ergo?
           vowels are female...
consonants are male...
             no one bothers these days... with these
stalemate concepts of pedagogy...
what philosophy isn't... pedagogy ought to be...
and what is philosophy?
freely available inquiry for those who
want to ingest it...
pedagogy is prescribed learning...
whereas philosophy is without a curriculum...
what is pedagogy? it's primarily: curriculum!

people most close to me once, upon,
a time... hoped... that i might succumb to
becoming a teacher...
i have a Leibniz-complex...
i'd sooner be a ******* road-sweeper than
custard my brain into a role
of overt-demands of responsibility...
******* mother-goose tribunal weighing
on my shoulders... no!
but i like the idea of detailing minor...
revisions...

the alphabet "concern"? using an anecdote...
in a car, with a friend... listening to his father
scold him for not remembering the alphabet...
so not remembering the alphabet is worse
than... not remembering the spelling of: remember?
the alphabet is beside the "hands that see"
argument of qwerty...
there is no "logical" argument for it...
to lodge A first... what about...
that curiosity exclamation marked and mark
and worded: huh? with a scratch of the head...

by the way... isn't the H sometimes
"ghosted" / i.e. surded?
in cockney it 'appens all the time...
i know i'll be robbed of something...
maybe this whole: this is the body of Christ...
i'll be cannibalised for the greater good...
maybe i'll end up with a *******
temple cult of "******" methuselah ladies on
the prowl...

and if i throw another tongue into
the equation: a latin scripted zunge...
will there be a need to throw all ambitions at
the ******* Mandarin like we're the second
coming of the mongolian golden horde?

London: loon-dim... or loon-dune...
i can expand the hell i like...
language is a dog... it obeys me:
i don't obey it... it's my ******* servant:
punctuation: girth of collar
and length of my leash!

i'm almost thankful that English... as a language...
is unlike all the other inheritors of ancient Latin...
you wouldn't see cappuccino anywhere in
neque enim tu es anima tantum,
sed anima corpus circumferens: corpus autem
non potest simul pluribus inesse locis...
Erasmus...

oh don't worry... if i bother... otherwise:
you'd think they'd prescribe us learning a feather's worth
of Latin while the "tide" receded...
back to the old ******* of nation,
tongue... giraffes... glaciers and graffiti...

while we're still rearranging alphabets,
while doctors peck blind at the keyboard...
write... sow: slow... index... primo!
because? cloud of a b c d e f, g...
  why put vowels so randomly arranged
within the confines of: primarily consonants...
it's not like a *******
schematic of 1 1 1 1 1 9 1 1 1
    9 9 9 9 9 9 1 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9
   vowels are... numbers are integers...
period...
    math like jurisprudence:
a ******* theausaurus game... word for word:
counter a word: hide a word... hey presto!
a "new" word...
oh, right... a vowel is an odd "number"...
a consonant: an... "even"... ahem... "number"...
since you can
cut up a S and get... E S or S (ee)
but when you cut up an A
you get... i... irrationality: "irrationality"...
diacritical markings... ą... oh that blessed
breath of things having automated odds-on ****...

breaking of bark...
timid squalor of meow...
all in disarray...
the politics of the sexes... of course:
tantamount...
there was a moon landing... haven't you heard?
this miraculous foresights of
post-subjectivity?

i scream on silent while you children
i given their hail mary / iron maiden
silent, treatment....
congested a best **** please....

i'm starting to get my "mojo" back...
perhaps my vocabulary to boot...
isn't enough... it's never enough...
the Leibniz-Complex is detailing
the afterthoughts of succumbing
to the status of: "librarian"...
or that one kind wonder of
a Portobello St. book on the broke...
hoarder of... "illicit" meteorogical oops
hey presto: there's a daisy.....

it's so much less presto when someone is
also a hey presto! who done it...
the cat takes 'ickles for its nap...
i bone, marrow and that's "fat"...

seagulls in essex?!
that the dead are reminder....
you remember me deaarest ol' ****...
i too tow a love for life....
it's no most importantly "you"... though...

— The End —