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Elizabeth Hynes Mar 2015
Two ducks quack a lover's fued
Coffee steam is rising well away
From he that burns here in
Ashen lava pools my hand
Falls in and melts away only
To regrow holding a snowdrop
Unscathed by wrath which boils
She turns about and says speaking
Low to threat 'go then' I can
Only offer the flower which melts
In the act. I entreat the flames retreat
The belly of the world spits souls
Into fresh bodies morphet anew
From old, not so but middle-aged
Sacred **** lived beyond the reach
Of time that ticks and claws
All downward were it not for life
Anew time might win.
Paula Swanson Aug 2010
C  Charitable with her heart
H  Honesty is her way
E  Eternally devoted to her faith and God
R  Riotously funny
I  Inspiration to others
E  Ever on the go

B  Best friend, that I never met
R  Routinely can be found playing Family Fued
I  Involved with her children
G  Graceful in forgivness
G  Gentle with her words
S  So thankful, am I, that we found each other
For my friend.  Although we have never met, we are as sisters.
Lex Nov 2017
We live in a world full of everything
we have the happy
we have the sad
we have the angry
we have the glad
we have food
we have houses
we have feuds
we have spouses
we have the glowing
we have defeat
we have the outgoing
we have those who retreat

As we go through life
with our eyes pressed forward
we never stop to look at the ones who "don't have"
those who are hurting
those who are sad
those who are crying
those who are mad
those who have no houses
those who have no food
those who have no spouses
those who live in a constant fued
those who are covered in strife
those who are broke
those who are done with life
and willing to choke

So my challenge to you is next time you walk outside
next time you start to ignore
instead of worrying of only yourself
help someone through the door
stop putting them on the shelf
help them off the floor
and think of something other than yourself
a lot more
I hope that when you hear a cry for help, you do.
Whether you're tight on money or not.
We can always afford to do something even a little.
Whether that's a conversation, food, shelter, money, or love.
When someone is crying out, ask yourself this.

What's stopping me?
~LJ
Cartwright Mar 2010
Roses Soaked in blood Like painful lust
of Love,
Regret the painful bounties of Fued.
I shouldn't have lost that picture of our happiness as
I mistreated the deeds from
good to bad;
Bad to worse.
Regret is what I feel.
Like a phantom I Lust for you to have me again.
With disappointment as my knife
I have done surgery to sculpt the perfect storm,
as the son says
"It can't rain all the time"
As I grasp to hold on tight
with all my being
to end this painful anguish
so the sun shall shine again.
With wings of Gold once had.
Black Tar,
Anger,
Rage
is now within your head.
As I come around to begging,
Pleading to make it right.
I ask this pain of Regret to Reform,
to be Consumed by truth in our hearts completion.
Christopher Nathaniel Cartwright
Copyright © 1983-Present
Franswa Hackett Jul 2010
A fued between parallel polarities
Inner connections, of unwavering complexity
Veiled by the naked, winds of sincerity
I can change faces swifter than a Pharisee.

Hate, cannot be measured by scopes
The devil himself was failing to cope,
With the loss of his honor and the loss of his hope
God placed his neck into the hang man's rope.

A covenant that he broke, fought hard and he choked
Existence was a hoax, he traded virtue for jokes
And in the sanctum that withers, hides at night and then slithers
The black holes draw hither, when bliss becomes shivers.

I'll place my fate, into the hands of the Seraphim
His breath stops and still I can't carry him
Eyes that bear the sorrow of a paladin,
Repressed thoughts return and they devour him.

It's all another means of control
Man's wickedness, has long since taken its toll
We observe the illusion as our essence grows cold
Loss of passion is the loss of one's soul.

Between being and nothing, I cannot distinguish
Innovative thoughts, rise up and diminish
The pride resolves, until at last we are finished
We cannot reconcile with loss of innocence.

Minds trapped in pathological discourses
Ideology imposed by the ruling forces,
Too blind to seek truth at the heart of the sources
Dissent is drowned out in a fusion of voices.

They say death is the cousin of sleep
Perhaps that's preferable to these lives that we keep
We draw blood for the profits we reap
I see all around me red, white, and blue sheep.
Indigo Jul 2020
A bitter taste upon my tongue reveals that you are near.
Cleansing flames fueled by rage ***** out bits of fear.
I scream and shout my call to arms knowing you won’t hear,
Or understand my battle cry; there is no love lost here.
Remained uh
Loyal to the game
Infamous is my name
Im after the fire
Its the return of the reign
Since Pac is King
Im the prince back to hit
Ya with some real ****
Hard to dodge when tryna
Put haters n critics n casket
Though a *******
I still made a change **** the fame
And all these nigguhs is speakin' the same
Riddle me this as i hit ya with some game
Aint got no shame
I was apart of the drug game *******
Filled my pockets mayne
Hangin' on differ corner slangin'
But it was the environment that got me bangin'
But i heard better blues when i see the news
Im seein my people in a fued
At war over each other
For nothing
All roughed up by the media for
Nothing
Then all of sudden
When a brother wants to regained consciousness
They label it ludicrous take my quotes as a diss
But i dismiss
All the ******* got to stay real to roots
Until the fat lady sangs remain
Loyal to the game



Though i was
Cursed as a *****
My focus was on chasin' figures
From ***** dreams
Too ******* in my abode  scene
Jewels & jacuzzi in the limousine
Big tv screens
Things aint what it seems
Somehow I thiught money
Would bring happiness
But it only attract serpents
Evil is the root to sorts of treachery
Gotta watch who's next to me ?
Feel me!
They say they have your back
But the first to attack
When ya turn ya back
Thats friends in this day in age
They say why you upset im growin' in a rage
All i know is dope hoes n a 12 guage
They ****** up my community
With the spiritual raid
Invested in homocide drug cartels
Suicide prostitution the stories never fail
And ah
If you plan on makin' future
Better believe they comin' to shoot ya
Eradicate our whole race
The nation steadily sayin' ******* to our face
Get out the **** pulpits n come to the streets
Thats where its real pack yo steel
So haters can feel
The ammunition of revenge
No pretend we never surrend
We straight up warriors
More than thugs
Now embrace the eternal flame
I dont care if i gotta for my peeps
Im vain but ill remain
Loyalllllll to the gammeeeeee
I thought that I was over this,
But still those evil lines I miss.
And in my head these thoughts come back
In a hungry, hateful pack.
I want to see my blood run red.
These thoughts returning of the end.

I wish, I wish, to stop for good,
Please break my heart and end the fued
And in my mind the war rages strong.
I'm still finding a way to carry on.

In my heart I know it's wrong.
It makes my lovers heart go numb.
But if I don't so something soon,
These thoughts of red will be my doom.
Renard Jackson Jun 2018
Immediately impact in one's direction
Infection spreading airborne it's a feeling
Bias of understanding in saying
Actions speak louder than words
With life there are challenges and achievements
Dispute none of the two what's done is due
Either it's old or new
No need for fued, miss cultivated
Change comes to those that wait
Introduced by patience
CREATED obligate people revise
Things are consistently explain for the moment momentarily
Immediately impact in one's direction.
#life #choices #tortured
THE ALLAN FAMILY STORY = THE QUEST TO KEEP BRIAN WITH THE FIGHTERS AND KEEP HIM BULLIED



YA SEE, BRIAN WAS HAVING A HARD TIME, BATTLING HIS VOICES, AND ONE

VOICE ESPECIAL;LY WAS HIS FIGHTING WITH DAD GETTING BACK ON HIM

WITH A FEW OF HIS BEST MATES, AND EACH TIME BRIAN WENT TO PAT’S HOUSE

HE REALLY LIKED HOW, THEY SHARED, FISH AND CHIPS AND CHICKEN AND ALSO

AND A NICE PIZZA, YEAH BRIAN AND PAT WERE JUNK FOOD JUNKIES AND PAT

WAS REALLY NICE TO THE OWNER, ALWAYS ASKING HOW HIS BUSINESS WAS,

WHILE, BRIAN JUST SAT THERE TALKING TO PAT, ABOUT LYLE DOES, IN HINDSIGHT

IT WAS LEADING TO A WHOLE HEAP OF TEASING LIKE ME WITH DAD COMING BACK

TO HAUNT ME, LIKE WHEN I DIDN’T WANNA FIGHT A VOICE WOULD CROWD PAT’S HEAD

YEAH YOU GO AWAY LIKE THE COWARD THAT YOU ARE, AND I TOLD MUM, AND SHE SAID
CANBERRA ARE OUT TO GET YOU, BUT BRIAN DISAGREES, CAUSE BRIAN  HATED THE VOICES

OF DISTRUCTION, YA SEE, BRIAN WAS BEING YOUNG WHEN HE DREW ON HIS ARM, LIKE

A PEN TATTOO, AND DAD HATED THIS, WHICH FORCED BRIAN TO GET INTO A VERY BIG

FIGHT WITH DAD, SAYING, HIT ME WITH YA RHYTHM STICK, HIT ME, OH HIT ME AND DAD

SAID, BUDDY, I WILL HIT YA, BUT I DON’T WANT TO HIT YA, YOUR MY SON, AND I DON’T WANT

TO ENCOURAGE VIOLENCE WITH YOUR MATES BRIAN, AND MY BROTHER YELLED OUT KEEP

BLUDGING ON HIM BRIAN SURE MATE, AND BRIAN TRIED TO KIDNAP HIMSELF ON HIS PARENTS

BECAUSE, DESPITE BRIAN’S PARENTS BEING NICE, THEY WERE TWO OLD FOGIES AND BRIAN

WALKED AROUND FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE, TRYING TO FIND HIS MATES, TO ESCAPE HIS DAD

BUT BRIAN BECAUSE, HE WAS CRONUS, HAD TO BECOME A WRITER, CAUSE THE ALIEN INSIDE

OF HIM, MADE HIM COMMITT A BAD CRIME, LIKE TIE UP AN 11 YEAR OLD BOY, AND ALL BRIAN’S

MATES SAID TO BRIAN WHY DID YOU DO THIS, WHY!, AND BRIAN SAID, IT FELT GREAT AT THE TIME

AND PAT SAID, LET’S LEAVE HIM ALONE FOR NOW, BUT WE HAVE TO MAKE THIS COWARD PAY

FOR WHAT HE DID, BUT BRIAN WAS UNDER, PSYCHOSIS, OF TED BUNDY’S EVIL REIGN, OPAT

WAS NICE TO BRIAN, AND BRIAN LIKED PAT A LOT, AND HEARING THE VOICE OF PAT TREATING

HIM, LIKE A MAN TO A FIGHT, MAKES BRIAN SCREAM OUT ‘WHY ARE YOU ******* WITH ME BUDDHA

AND EVERY TIME I GET UP AND MOVE ON, THE STUPID FORCE KEEPS ME FROM LOOKING

YOUNG EVEN IF I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED IN GROWING OLD AND FUCKEN WEAK.

YOU SEE AS I RUN UP THE ROAD, I HEAR THIS VOICE, SAYING, YEAH GO AWAY AND RUN

LIKE THE LITTLE COWARD THAT YOU ARE, YOU LOST OUR FAITH IN YOU BRIIURN

YOU LOST OUR FAITH IN YOU, YA SEE, I ALSO HEAR THIS VOICE SAYING, IF YA WANNA BE LIKE US

BRIURN BEHAVE YOURSELF, CAUSE, YOUR NOT A YOUNG DUDE, AND BRIAN SAID, VOICE

I WANNA GET TO ADELAIDE, AND LIVE, I WANNA BE A HOLLYWOOD ACTOR, I WANT TO BRING SUSIE TO

BE BRAX’S GIRLFRIEND ON HOME AND AWAY,AND I WANT TO WHACK ALF STEWART WITH THE BELT

BUT THIS VOICE SAYS, IN A HORRIBLE VOICE, VERY SARCASTICALLY REPEATING EVERY WORD

THAT CAME OUT OFR MY MOUTH, YOU SEE THE COSMOS WANTS ME TO BE SHY, BUT DUDES

I DON’T WANT TO GET FOUGHT, CAUSE LATELY I DON’T **** PEOPLE OFF, MY PAST IS DEAD AND BURIED

AND WHILE I SAW PAT, MY BROTHER PLAYED TENNIS BY THE HOUSE, AND PAT SAID, I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR

BROTHER, SEE YA LATER, I AM NOT YA DADDY, BRIAN, BRIAN CAME OUT TOO, AND WE ALL JOKED AROUND TOGETHER

DAD AND MUM WERE TRYING TO TREAT ME LIKE SOMETHING I AM NOT, A COOL KID TO SQUABBLE WITH

JUST BECAUSE, DAD THOUGHT I HANDLED MY BROTHER SHYLY TO HIS OLD FOGIE WAY

AND THAT IS WHAT STARTED A LITTLE FUED WITH DAD, ME BEING A LITTLE SHY BOY TO HIM

HE WAS AN OLDIE, LIKE THAT. ENJOY YOURSELF PATRICK
Carissa Lee Apr 2014
Sick
The blood is thick
I cant help but think Im *******
An inner fued finds its way out
Ive lost my wits
Tossed my heart away
The world turned grey
The tears burned my cheeks
For weeks I remained numb
My heart beating like a drum
Jolene Perron Jul 2010
The sky fades to black,
the end of the day.
Another day without you,
one more time to say.

I love you,
and I miss you so.
Remember your promise,
that you will never go.

I stars twinkle,
they shine so bright.
As I pout in my room,
continuing this fight.

To win back the right,
for us to be friends.
To make sure,
the tears will end.

Because this fued,
it's pointless you see.
That we're forbidden,
to be together him and me.

A star flies across,
a night blue sky.
As I make a wish,
and begin to cry.

I wish real hard,
and hope with my heart.
It won't be much longer,
that we are apart.

The distance kills me,
but I know in m heart.
We see the same stars,
when we are apart.

And the night holds us,
keeps us together.
Like an umbrella,
from the stormy weather.

So hang on tight,
we're in for a ride.
But be sure to stay true,
keep me in mind.

I look up into the night,
whispering to the stars.
"Please remember,
I'm always in your heart..."
Victor Krisp Sep 2017
It started with a tube of mascara
Which led to a sudden case of eye herps
They said it was The end of an era
If an era could fit a blurb

Nikki says Lexi enjoys eating multiple *****
Lexi claims Nikki never washes her cooch
Just a small fued between two white trash Hicks
It's difficult being a twelve year old stuck in the body of a thirty-year-old ******

However their bickering is quite cute
It's almost as if they're trying to say
"You're dumb as a mute,
Dense as clay
But without you, I'm nothing"
SomaSonata Aug 2020
Life is a flower
I want to pluck its petals
And taste the metal

Heard the trees falling
Glorious impurities
You found your calling

Cooling by degrees
Don't know which viewpoint I see
Yesterday's headlines...

Sickness of the swine
Fever of the fettered mind
Fits me right to size

Lazy summer days
Give way to scorched Earth evenings
Red bloom carriers

Speak the golden words
Catch the boomerang's return
Old dogs never learn

Dance the night away
No refunding second thoughts
Paper spades in play

Terracotta fued
Running low on rocket fuel
Engines slow to cool

Someday sometime soon
Take a dip in glitter dust
Shaking off the rust

Prospective buyer
Beware the hyperbole
Circle back someday
Crazy as it may seems
Life is really hard
But I know you know that
And still have your dreams
That's really cool
So do I
I may be older now
But I still believe
That there is hope
Hope in good people
Hope in good things
It just doesn't seem that way
Because people have their agenda
And I get in their way
They bulldoze me over
And that's okay
Cause I do it too
I have my motives
To write the way I do
It's because I can't express myself
Without putting pen to paper
I find it easier to voice it
With my writings
Maybe you're a good speaker
That's all good
Just don't speak to me with disrespect
I won't do the same
We're on this planet together
Why fued?
Wouldn't it be easier to love?
But what is love
If we can't even like each other?
Life is hard enough
Than to add a lifetime of problems
With one another
So let's unburden our hearts
And find hope in life
Make this world a better place
It's so easy to write
But can we share the wonders
Together like friends do?
Life would be so much better
If people stop for one second
And realize the beauty
Of it all
They call me a *****
With an attitude
Cuz I feed fued to energy
I'm tryna better ye
But if I better thee
People begin jealousy
For no apparent reasons
See folks is like the seasons
Change the attitude
As altitude
Frequency sooth the mood
If you on higher plains
It like food for the brain
And you'll rise
Above the rest
Low frequencies always
Put through a rest
So free your thoughts
Because they being bought
Through the tv's and advertised
Billboards
See I crash boards
I excel harm without the
Used of my vocal chords
See words is swords
See the rhymes play I slay
Any adversaries they stay buried
And worried
Stressed because of my next move
But they stuck in a guess
Cuz they don't know until
My actions manifest
By the time they catch up
They'll be put to rest
My mind is grotesque shatter
Like a pumpkin brisk
Hammered by lbs of pressure
So free your thoughts
And use your heart
Anna Josephine Sep 2019
The tragic misfortunes of the victims of hate
Could not control their haunted fate.
Romeo and Juliet bound in chains of doom
sprung from a fountain of a toxic fued.
Fiery tybalt and his sword of gold revived a battle that remains to be told.
Romeo in anger and full of love killed the boy and a riot set off .
Now the hate grew ever more and more and soon enough the families where at war !
Which to end a tale in death and tears for these ancient families it was never clear.
That there love made love turn into hate.
Now four lay dead in a tomb,
from the battles of the caplets and the montagues !
And never was there a story of more woe than this of juliet and her romeo.
Just found this poem that I wrote when I was 13. It's not perfect but I had completely forgotten about it and re reading it was like being smacked in the face with nostalgia.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
a drinker's ultimate rubric...
           and while listening
   to "conspiracy theories"...
  well... we know that
the luftwafe
    ingested: pervitin
    when doing night raids
on London...
   the english commandos
went into war: drunk as
a skunk... might be:
  jolly good humor to boot
  (die krupps: nazis
                            auf speed)...
but for the love of
god, i don't know what
came over me during
the past 3... 4... 5 days?
   i stopped talking,
     i...
             slept for about 14
hours... skipping the day's
worth of sunlight...
   went to sleep with the shy
sun of sunrise
   and woke up during the night...
i thought that changing
the music i usually use
to k.o. myself to sleep
was wrong...
    so i switched from
the hellraiser II soundtrack
by christopher young:
i can really butcher that soundtrack...
i mean: on repeat,
night after night...
    like someone with
a fetish for mechanical drill sounds...
so i tried the alternatives...
poliça (shulamith)...
         good... in being awake,
but also forgetting you're
awake...
        some sort of elevation
from portishead...
   rotting christ (rituals)...
even the screaming doesn't
sooth me...
      then the ultimate
condender retribution
for the fued between
   the dandy warhols
   and brian jonestown massace...
nothing but: seminal...
        aufheben...
then i had to quench my
love "affair"
   with northern lights -
choral works by ola gjeilo...
no good...
   2 days pass, 3 days pass,
4 and then the 5...
   i'm in limbo...
  counter to anything that might
resemble either
a social, or a political animal,
more: schatten-ratte ghoul
        than a happy-to-go-to
monkey shaman...
                 until
the breaking point comes...
   drank enough
  to put a horse into a *******
coma...
         persistent in
my pedantry of keeping
to strict spelling...
            but not eating so much...
then a chance discovery
in the kitchen...
        opti-
            men
...
  took a bite into a sausage
that almost made me gag
with some HP sauce...
           looked at the plastic bottle,
and read the following rubric:

                                              % RI
vitamin A        400μg          50%
vitamin D           10μg         200%
vitamin E            30mg        250%
vitamin K            75μg        100%
vitamin C         225mg        281%
thiamin              4.0mg        364%
riboflavin           4.5mg        321%
niacin                   54mg       337%
vitamin B6          5.4mg       386%
folic acid               90μg         45%
vitamin B12        9.0μg       360%
biotin                   180μg      360%
pantothenic          18μg      300%
acid
calcium               120mg        15%
magnesium          80mg       21%
zinc                        12mg      120%
copper                  2.0mg      200%
manganese          2.0mg      100%
selenium               30μg       55%
chromium          120μg        300%
molybdenum       80μg       160%
iodine                   100μg      67%
boron                     2.0mg
amino acids       1000mg
      - L-leucine      400mg  
      - L-isoleucine 200mg    
      - L-valine         200mg
      - L-glutamine  200mg
green tea extract     20mg
citrus                        7.0mg
      bioflavonoids
ginger extract          20mg
                                                            (they for
                                 forgot turmeric,
            never mind)
olive leaf                  20mg
extract
rutin                         20mg
alpha lipoic acid    25mg
chlorine
      bitartrate            10mg
inositol                      10mg
lycopane                   500μg
lutein                         500μg

this has to be the ultimate
rubric, to counter drinking fatigue...
pop one of these gram
submarines and
       you can return to
   drinking again...

and then the amitriptyline
will kick in,
hopefuly with some
paracetamol or better:
naproxen
   and... we're good to go...
for the next couple
of days
having to have
"forgotten" to eat
      something decent...

i guess i'm one of those
people that eat, to live...
rather than
   fine dine and look
up my **** when writing
a food critique
or a restaurant critique...
guess i don't live, to eat...

how else would anyone
deal with these Daesh
    amphetamine knock-offs?
a drunk...
  like in world war II...
armed with a bottle
of scotch... and a decent
vitamin supplrement.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
the zenith and crux had to come one day,
perhaps with a: being awake outside
the domain of the healthy concern for
night as associated with sleep,
   and day - with at least the bare minimum
of cooking a **** tasty dinner -
         namely wanting to improvise on
chapati bread...
                                since came upon me a pain,
left me sliding off my bed,
  and repenting, laying myself on a hard
wooden floor, repenting since outside
   the window: June finally woke to ascribe
to itself both the seekers of shade,
as the ones seeking
                           skin gilded in copper,
inverting the niqab with a pair of sunglasses...
my virtual diet of youtube videos
started to become: claustrophobic,
      even the algorithm spoke back to me
based upon my choice of videos:
                  nothing new was seen since
    the beginning of June, the latest:
            ending on the 20th...
                          thus i remembered that
   i own john frusciante's:
              when shadows collide with people...
can't exactly express what happened
lying on that hard wooden floor...
                        sweating and toiling by
            keeping count of falling dominos...
swelled in john's oeuvre and felt like
i regained my momentary loss of sanity...
notably from being click-baited...
           and youtube was never supposed
to be a free-listening station
    in a ****** megastore, like the ones
on oxford street?
                      don't worry... i'll buy it...
i much care about ownership...
               but even in a ****** megastore
you could test-listen a compact
before buying it...
                        as long as there is:
                     no translation of mobility
from a static thing, to the well hidden,
            compact of a pocket, taking a stroll...
i honestly can't remember the last
time i talked through a mobile phone
that was my possession...
         upon landing at Stanstead this past
May i authentically asked for
   a pay-phone... the employee looked
dazzled and confused...
                so i had to resort to borrowing
a stranger's phone for a speed-dial
   and an exchange of familiar voices with:
i'm here...
                      the bread making
exercise?
                     just a chapati bread...
      infused with a pinch of salt,
         a double pinch of sugar, black pepper,
a dry chilli crumbled... cumin seeds...
            turmeric powder...
                       and mighty hot flat gypsy
frying pan...
                     the sort that requires you
to grip the handle with a cloth...
                      evidently even this famous
canadian dr. can become exhausting...
  why?
              why i am among an audience...
listening to him:
              when i ****** well know that
     i'm probably going to be the only person
who has already read some of the books
he's inviting the remaining members of
the audience to read? but who evidently will
not, because they'll just regurgitate
the lecture: in video.
       only some time ago i discovered this
rotten youtube commentary people...
        last time i checked...
             all i ever used it for was to sample
         music, before i would buy a hard copy...
what a rotten diet!
               i almost lost my pleasure from reading...
not that i might disagree with
      the canadian herr doktor herr professor...
yet: to perpetuate being a student...
           thank god i was taught some higher
technicality in chemistry...
       because, listening to these lectures...
              no wonder pubescence is extended
well beyond the biological reality...
                        plus the company of sophists
and not drunk poets...
        ah... you know... you're always looking
for a stiff one, a sharpshooter to numb
the pain of being crammed with intellectual custard...
i too have read some BIG books...
       but talking about them is like:
an inability to think with them.
          hence the art of necromancy -
it's not "supposed":
       when you're sitting in a room,
   with a library that might as well be regarded
as a graveyard...
        oh this ******'s dead,
   so's this one, and this one...
                    ****! i'm the only one around
here doing the graveyard shift!
and let me tell you:
      it's a gemini schematic -
            one hand feeds the other as
does the other caress the hand that's feeding it...
you can't escape a desire to write,
without keeping an equilibrium
with a desire to read...
                you can't wish to write more
than you read...
                 or feel inclined to do so...
   doesn't exactly require grand books,
                civilisation pillars and door-stops...
i just had to read one book review,
then run back to reading my current
lecture of Heidegger's ponderings VII - XI...
perhaps that's how it goes...
      but i must have been insane for
about a week devouring herr doktor's lectures,
strapped to an outer-looking
                      america and canada...
              the **** does that even matter
from where i'm sitting?
               you want a "clever" little fact?
   you know why the Polacks played such a ******
world cup, in russian?
                 shh...
                the Russians actually played,
the ENTIRE POLISH ANTHEM! (almost)
             no, seriously,
                          even i was brought to tears!
but being in company of another person,
i did a sly whimpering and didn't want
to show the aqua pearls...
            Poland vs. Colombia -
  the Russian organisers allowed for the entire
hymn to be sung... not just the first
stanza like at the olympics or in other
countries...
      mazurek dąbrowskiego to the Russian,
which is more than it is to
the Zakopane fued and throng:
a second stanza!
    przejdziem Wisłę, przejdziem Wartę,
    będziem Polakami.
    dał nam przykład Bonaparte,
    jak zwyciężać mamy.

          i'm even suspicious of the fact
that there might have even been
a third stanza!
                   HENCE THE EMOTIONAL
RESPONSE!
        if you're supposed to "keep"
a memory of only one stanza from
the anthem? why bother...
    unlike the English: bog-standard...
let's get on with it!
                if... i heard, the anthem
in its entire... form?
                           i'd break down crying
listening to it...
          like now...
       listening to john frusciante's
                                 unreachable
                  from the album the empyrean...
thank you very much, Russian,
can you please excuse "my" national team
from not going further than
  the group stages of your grand tournament...
we have more pressing matters
back home -
                       i would like to write
a personal note to Mr. Putin for allowing me
this rare insight...
           thank you for the second stanza
(and third, if i'm not mistaken)
                              of my anthem to be sang
in the presence of other nations;
                     thank you...
                                        for plucking this
from my heart.
                      double down on:
               yes... they plaid **** because they
were emotionally disorientated...
                            as any ****** would be...
having to sing an extra bit...
                          of what's otherwise
           a shorter-script of the anthem recognised
by the olympic community...
                  i know why they failed like
a **** in a bog of mud...
                                     if i almost cried
hearing the extended anthem...
                    how the hell do you think
                          a footballer would feel...
                      kamil grosicki....
                  crying...
                       ­ that's not ******* gazza...
getting booked in the semi-finals
                            in Turin... knowing he would
miss playing in the final!
        this is group stages football!
                 now i can show you a part of
Russian collective psychological "manipulation":
i call it that,
              because i've gained more from
it, than if the Polish team,
   did even something as ridiculous as
                                      play in the semi-final...
it's football...
             after all...
                     the team consisted of mainly
nearing-retirement players
   who were plagued by injury...
                     namely jakub błaszczykowski...
ah! those Russians...
                 they know how to turn a man's
heart back on into a natural rhythm...
                         so...                   no biggie;
if things settle...
                      we'll allow Senegal
                                   and Colombia through.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
so my next-door neighbour
is trying to sell his house,
    a complete **** of a man...
anyway, my other neighbour
goes to the estate agent
   that is mediating the sale...
  a sign: for sale goes up
one saturday...
    comes down the next...
      why?
   see, this is what happens when
neighbours take to fued...
     it's all boxing-gloves off &
          an army of chimps turned
berserker starting to rip of limbs
with their bare hands...
   ugly ****...
        beside the point...
well, beside the giggles of being
stuck in the middle...
       the neighbour who grassed
my other cunty neighbour
   because he had a company car
and was storing the company's
car petrol outside
                           his home?
besides that...
    the neighbour
        who ****** him over?
she's a rajter -
etymology would
         suggest a german
origin...
             god **** me, i really
want to make it sound proper in
english... not raj -
               or the taj mahal...
  and not: ray-ter either...
                        ah!
                           rye-ter!
what does it mean?
      someone who's
               into local gossip,
esp. someone discord among
his / her neighbours...
        listens to gossip,
                      to spread gossip,
(yes, gender neutral nouns)
     she's = he's a rajter / rye-ter;
almost sounds like like
         the origin of a wry writer.
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2023
Deep in heart there will forever be a place
Existing only to hold the image of your face
I've tried but no words fingers could write
Accurately describe your beauty and light
There always will be a piece of you inside of me
Every time I look into a mirror that's what I see
Through glass familiar lines echo out your name
Traces of you distinctly formed in the woman I became
I speculate upwards to the sky
Wondering where you are
For a brief second heaven doesn’t seem so far
Yearning to go back to when my story was new
I could do things different and change the way I treated you
You spent many years watching me play and grow
Sweating in sun
Shivering in snow
You wore out bones making sure I had it all
Bending backwards to my every beck and call
I'd climb tree branches all the way to the top
Until you witnessed me up there and your heart would drop
Then yell for me to get down
Concerned as hell
I would roll my eyes and comply although I rarely ever fell
I was too youthful to appreciate how much you cared
To comprehend the importance of each memory shared
I recall how you stayed up until dawn
Sewing costumes
Stifling every yawn
Or helping craft projects for school
Hosting sleepovers so I could feel cool
On picture day you would wake up early and curl my hair
Pick out a matching outfit to wear
You stood up for me no matter what
If asked you would be there no ifs, ands, or buts
Like in 6th grade when teacher wanted me to change my shirt in class
The words depicted had (in his opinion) "too much sass"
You and dad drove down and gave him a piece of your minds
He admitted defeat by rules dress code defined
I'll never forget feeling of invincibility
Regardless of situation never failed to put your faith in me
As a teenager began to fued and fight
Didn't value your verdict because I believed I was right
Didn't understand the reason for your overprotective ways
Where you came from
Positive you were out to make me miserable by not letting me have fun
But now I am older I see the picture all too clear
Decisions were based not on my character; but fear
And I'm grateful you loved me enough to insist on saying no
Instead of letting run wild anywhere I wanted to go
It took a decade to forgive you and grow wise
Should have listened sooner so I would have realized
That family is a blessing
Cherish and hold near
Because you never expect someone to disappear
I am guilty of not clutching you tighter while I could
Thanks to you I've lived a life with so much good
You were the best mother in the world
Should have informed you of that more
I keep wishing for everything to be like before
If you viewed me now I know you'd want me to be stronger
I will miss you for an eternity Mom
And love you even longer
I wrote this and read it aloud at my mom's celebration of life on Sunday
Catnip Lily Jun 2020
It is foreordained that nature changes after rain.
Storm riders, that is what we call ourselves.
We are one, a mama and her eight children.
Amidst all odds, we have stayed stronger together.
We have been broken by the land of a typhoon.
Stradelling the sadness brought by the waves.
Staying afloat in high tide.
Resolving misery due to the scorching sun.
An illness befalled us, a divorce broke our happiness, family fued threathening our oneness, poverty almost ring on us.
Despite all odds we have stayed together.
So, Storm Riders befit us and endless blessings would be our eternal prayers. Amen.
work in progress... together .. one ... family .. kinship
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
iecurcibum:
              hardly a congestion
if being intimidating
within the confines
of     paraphrasing
                       yummy....
    last star and the next
               tartare s......
       take on claiming to craft
fued in an interview.

— The End —