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0
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
maxneumann
The World NEEDS HelloPoetry (Please Make A Contribution.)
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry Albania needs hellopoetry Algeria needs hellopoetry Andorra needs hellopoetry Angola needs hellopoetry Antigua and Barbuda needs hellopoetry Argentina needs hellopoetry Armenia needs hellopoetry Australia needs hellopoetry Austria needs hellopoetry Azerbaijan needs hellopoetry The Bahamas needs hellopoetry Bahrain needs hellopoetry Bangladesh needs hellopoetry Barbados needs hellopoetry Belarus needs hellopoetry Belgium needs hellopoetry Belize needs hellopoetry Benin needs hellopoetry Bhutan needs hellopoetry Bolivia needs hellopoetry Bosnia and Herzegovina needs hellopoetry Botswana needs hellopoetry Brazil needs hellopoetry Brunei needs hellopoetry Bulgaria needs hellopoetry Burkina Faso needs hellopoetry Burundi needs hellopoetry Cabo Verde needs hellopoetry Cambodia needs hellopoetry Cameroon needs hellopoetry Canada needs hellopoetry Central African Republic needs hellopoetry Chad needs hellopoetry Chile needs hellopoetry China needs hellopoetry Colombia needs hellopoetry Comoros needs hellopoetry Congo, Democratic Republic is in need of hellopoetry Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry   Costa Rica needs hellopoetry Côte d’Ivoire needs hellopoetry Croatia needs hellopoetry Cuba needs hellopoetry Cyprus needs hellopoetry Czech Republic needs hellopoetry Denmark needs hellopoetry   Djibouti needs hellopoetry Dominica needs hellopoetry Dominican Republic needs hellopoetry East Timor (Timor-Leste) needs hellopoetry Ecuador needs hellopoetry Egypt needs hellopoetry   El Salvador needs hellopoetry Equatorial Guinea needs hellopoetry Eritrea needs hellopoetry Estonia needs hellopoetry Eswatini needs hellopoetry Ethiopia needs hellopoetry Fiji needs hellopoetry Finland needs hellopoetry France needs hellopoetry Gabon needs hellopoetry The Gambia needs hellopoetry Georgia needs hellopoetry Germany needs hellopoetry Ghana needs hellopoetry Greece needs hellopoetry Grenada needs hellopoetry Guatemala needs hellopoetry Guinea needs hellopoetry Guinea-Bissau needs hellopoetry Guyana needs hellopoetry Haiti needs hellopoetry Honduras needs hellopoetry Hungary needs hellopoetry Iceland needs hellopoetry India needs hellopoetry Indonesia needs hellopoetry Iran needs hellopoetry Iraq needs hellopoetry Ireland needs hellopoetry Israel needs hellopoetry Italy needs hellopoetry Jamaica needs hellopoetry Japan needs hellopoetry Jordan needs hellopoetry Kazakhstan needs hellopoetry Kenya needs hellopoetry Kiribati needs hellopoetry Korea, North needs hellopoetry Korea, South needs hellopoetry Kosovo needs hellopoetry Kuwait needs hellopoetry Kyrgyzstan needs hellopoetry Laos needs hellopoetry Latvia needs hellopoetry Lebanon needs hellopoetry Lesotho needs hellopoetry Liberia needs hellopoetry Libya needs hellopoetry Liechtenstein needs hellopoetry Lithuania needs hellopoetry Luxembourg needs hellopoetry Madagascar needs hellopoetry Malawi needs hellopoetry Malaysia needs hellopoetry Maldives needs hellopoetry Mali needs hellopoetry Malta needs hellopoetry Marshall Islands needs hellopoetry Mauritania needs hellopoetry Mauritius needs hellopoetry Mexico needs hellopoetry Micronesia, Federated States is in need of hellopoetry Moldova needs hellopoetry Monaco needs hellopoetry Mongolia needs hellopoetry Montenegro needs hellopoetry Morocco needs hellopoetry Mozambique needs hellopoetry Myanmar (Burma) needs hellopoetry Namibia needs hellopoetry Nauru needs hellopoetry Nepal needs hellopoetry Netherlands needs hellopoetry New Zealand needs hellopoetry Nicaragua needs hellopoetry Niger needs hellopoetry Nigeria needs hellopoetry North Macedonia needs hellopoetry Norway needs hellopoetry Oman needs hellopoetry Pakistan needs hellopoetry Palau needs hellopoetry Panama needs hellopoetry Papua New Guinea needs hellopoetry Paraguay needs hellopoetry Peru needs hellopoetry Philippines needs hellopoetry Poland needs hellopoetry Portugal needs hellopoetry Qatar needs hellopoetry Romania needs hellopoetry Russia needs hellopoetry Rwanda needs hellopoetry Saint Kitts and Nevis needs hellopoetry Saint Lucia needs hellopoetry Saint Vincent and the Grenadines needs hellopoetry Samoa needs hellopoetry San Marino needs hellopoetry Sao Tome and Principe needs hellopoetry Saudi Arabia needs hellopoetry Senegal needs hellopoetry Serbia needs hellopoetry Seychelles needs hellopoetry Sierra Leone needs hellopoetry Singapore needs hellopoetry Slovakia needs hellopoetry Slovenia needs hellopoetry Solomon Islands needs hellopoetry Somalia needs hellopoetry South Africa needs hellopoetry Spain needs hellopoetry Sri Lanka needs hellopoetry Sudan needs hellopoetry Sudan, South needs hellopoetry Suriname needs hellopoetry Sweden needs hellopoetry Switzerland needs hellopoetry Syria needs hellopoetry Taiwan needs hellopoetry Tajikistan needs hellopoetry Tanzania needs hellopoetry Thailand needs hellopoetry Togo needs hellopoetry Tonga needs hellopoetry Trinidad and Tobago needs hellopoetry Tunisia needs hellopoetry Turkey needs hellopoetry Turkmenistan needs hellopoetry Tuvalu needs hellopoetry Uganda needs hellopoetry Ukraine needs hellopoetry United Arab Emirates needs hellopoetry United Kingdom needs hellopoetry United States needs hellopoetry Uruguay needs hellopoetry Uzbekistan needs hellopoetry Vanuatu needs hellopoetry Vatican City needs hellopoetry Venezuela needs hellopoetry Vietnam needs hellopoetry Yemen needs hellopoetry Zambia needs hellopoetry Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry
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196
Four old friends Dead of winter small town Germany. Smoke rising from chimneys From cigarettes, and pipes From trains riding the rural rails From city spires And factories From airplanes Airplanes and Airplanes, From Airplanes. Smoke dancing and laughing Stinging and coughing Smoke in my hair and jacket In the pores of my skin Smoke in my eyes, Up the hill And through the woods Dead of winter Small town Germany Four old friends Walk two by two Three by one Four and four. Walk by the church, Down the creek, Up the hills, the hills And through the woods Small town Germany four old friends Dead of winter Cigar smoke and beer Cigarillos in a chain Smoke from crystalizing breath And fireworks Smoke from bonfires And tailpipes Smoke from airplanes Airplanes and airplanes Smoke from airplanes. Smoke stains and cigarette burns Little circles in my jacket Germany Four old friends dead of winter Small town Smoke tears Smoke promises Smoke memories that linger Like the faint nausea Of what-the-hell-has-happened. I watch the **** end of your last cigarette Crumpled and fading In the ashtray of that Badischer bar And your eyebrow twitched The heart-wrenching shiver Of what-the-hell-has-happened. And I whispered: (airplanes) airplanes and airplanes I whispered airplanes. That’s what the hell.
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
ariel-evangeline-baptista
Airplanes
Four old friends Dead of winter small town Germany. Smoke rising from chimneys From cigarettes, and pipes From trains riding the rural rails From city spires And factories From airplanes Airplanes and Airplanes, From Airplanes. Smoke dancing and laughing Stinging and coughing Smoke in my hair and jacket In the pores of my skin Smoke in my eyes, Up the hill And through the woods Dead of winter Small town Germany Four old friends Walk two by two Three by one Four and four. Walk by the church, Down the creek, Up the hills, the hills And through the woods Small town Germany four old friends Dead of winter Cigar smoke and beer Cigarillos in a chain Smoke from crystalizing breath And fireworks Smoke from bonfires And tailpipes Smoke from airplanes Airplanes and airplanes Smoke from airplanes. Smoke stains and cigarette burns Little circles in my jacket Germany Four old friends dead of winter Small town Smoke tears Smoke promises Smoke memories that linger Like the faint nausea Of what-the-hell-has-happened. I watch the **** end of your last cigarette Crumpled and fading In the ashtray of that Badischer bar And your eyebrow twitched The heart-wrenching shiver Of what-the-hell-has-happened. And I whispered: (airplanes) airplanes and airplanes I whispered airplanes. That’s what the hell.
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62
“I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.” John Quincy Adams, 6th President of the United States <> a bad weakness, mine, mess with the perfect of others, unsure what to add that will addictive illuminate further, but as homage, a tribute, a salute got to got too, no middle class delayed gratification for me, none, whatsoever, read the words and my own hands choke me as if to pull out, to free the upsurging words in my chest-forming, to uplift me up, from the floor where I am roiling in wonderful wonderment at a prophecy come true my recent family history, about 400 years worth, got it written down someplace, escapees from a Spanish Inquisition, a Roman one before that, meandering Jews who found a respite, a small welcome in a small village in Germany (the irony does not go unnoticed) from villager to merchant, from tiny town to big city folk, we went, warriors if any, kept secret, best unheard, attract no attention, but do what survival doesn’t always politely request here I am child of the proverbial wandering jew, fancy me a poet with, at best, a very small p, one of three children, historians, book writers, scholars and even poet~traders, and so a President’s words, hammer my cells upon an anvil for human skins, the future shape of me foreseen and I think to myself, alone and out loud: This, This! is what makes America great,  welcoming the stranger, even predicting their possible pathway to a peaceful existence, giving their descendant’s generations liberty, liberty to become poets, free, who can stand upright*
0
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 1:47 PM UTC
nat-lipstadt
“I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.
“I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.” John Quincy Adams, 6th President of the United States <> a bad weakness, mine, mess with the perfect of others, unsure what to add that will addictive illuminate further, but as homage, a tribute, a salute got to got too, no middle class delayed gratification for me, none, whatsoever, read the words and my own hands choke me as if to pull out, to free the upsurging words in my chest-forming, to uplift me up, from the floor where I am roiling in wonderful wonderment at a prophecy come true my recent family history, about 400 years worth, got it written down someplace, escapees from a Spanish Inquisition, a Roman one before that, meandering Jews who found a respite, a small welcome in a small village in Germany (the irony does not go unnoticed) from villager to merchant, from tiny town to big city folk, we went, warriors if any, kept secret, best unheard, attract no attention, but do what survival doesn’t always politely request here I am child of the proverbial wandering jew, fancy me a poet with, at best, a very small p, one of three children, historians, book writers, scholars and even poet~traders, and so a President’s words, hammer my cells upon an anvil for human skins, the future shape of me foreseen and I think to myself, alone and out loud: This, This! is what makes America great,  welcoming the stranger, even predicting their possible pathway to a peaceful existence, giving their descendant’s generations liberty, liberty to become poets, free, who can stand upright*
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42
The Sunday lamb cracks in its fat. The fat Sacrifices its opacity. . . . A window, holy gold. The fire makes it precious, The same fire Melting the tallow heretics, Ousting the Jews. Their thick palls float Over the cicatrix of Poland, burnt-out Germany. They do not die. Grey birds obsess my heart, Mouth-ash, ash of eye. They settle. On the high Precipice That emptied one man into space The ovens glowed like heavens, incandescent. It is a heart, This holocaust I walk in, O golden child the world will **** and eat.
0
8k
Sylvia Plath
Mary's Song
The Sunday lamb cracks in its fat. The fat Sacrifices its opacity. . . . A window, holy gold. The fire makes it precious, The same fire Melting the tallow heretics, Ousting the Jews. Their thick palls float Over the cicatrix of Poland, burnt-out Germany. They do not die. Grey birds obsess my heart, Mouth-ash, ash of eye. They settle. On the high Precipice That emptied one man into space The ovens glowed like heavens, incandescent. It is a heart, This holocaust I walk in, O golden child the world will **** and eat.
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21
Pt. Anand Ji A To Z Problem Solution 72 Hours And With 100% Guaranteed. 45 Years EXPERCANCE With In Astrology Systematic Call To Guru Ji +91-8239810997 And Get Advice From Him. Any Problem In Mobile +91-8239810997 Astrology or/and Vashikaran solutions are also very effective for resolving or averting extramarital affairs of husband or wife, in present and future years. Such solutions or measures can be maximally efficacious and safe if these are extended by a well-learned, well-experienced, righteous, and globally reputed astrologer or relationship vashikaran specialist, like our guru ji astrologer-cum-vashikaran specialist pt.Anand ji of India. This web-article is dedicated exclusively to offering detailed and very beneficial information over the solutions of our dignified and benevolent guru ji, for resolving or eliminating unwanted extramarital affairs of any partner of the married life, to make the domestic life smooth and succulent, peaceful, and truly opulent. The extramarital affairs of husband or wife could be caused by anyone or more of the following reasons: Astrological Factors Constantly increasing distance between husband and wife Differences in the lifestyle and priorities of the two married partners Absence of full confidence in the other partner Understanding and compatibility problems between husband and wife Easily available company of an alluring person of opposite gender Lack of marital harmony, intimacy, and succulence Issues related with financial, occupational, or social status of any INTERNATIONAL SERVICE WITH GUARANTEE POWERFUL LOVE ASTROLOGER Anand Ji FROMPUSKARJI RAJASTHAN 45 EXPERCANCE ALL PROBLEM SOLUTION BY SADHANA Hello can u disturb in your life problems and not get desire results? Here is the solution of all problems like as follow:- := love marriage := Business problemsolution := Problem in husband wife := Foreign traveling := Problem in study := Problem as childless := Physical problem := Problem in family relations := problem in your love := Willful marriage := Promotions our wised love back all solutions in your life within 72 hours and with 100% guaranteed. With in astrology systematic call to guru ji and get advice from him. Any problemsin Mobile :+91-8239810997WORLD NO. 1 FAMOUS GURU ASTROLOGER/INDIA /West Bengal OMAN Cape town canada america Usa in Ontario , Toronto Kuwait , Qatar , Doha , Saudi Arabia , San Francisco Singapore , Italy , Germany , Paris , Belgium, France , Berlin , Spain UK, USA, AUSTRALIA, UAE, DUABI, CANADA, Sydney,ENGLAND,united kingdom,SINGAPORE, NEWZEALAND, GERMANY, ITLY, MALASIYA,Abu dhabi London IN New York kuwait SouthAfrica,South Korea,Thailand Qatar,England,Queens California HongKong Japan Brazil More info visit my Website... http://www.thelovevashikaran.com/ Email .. [email protected]..................... Contact us. .+91-8239810997.............
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
ptanand22-ji
Husband wife dispute/girlfriend/boyfriend breakup Solution
Pt. Anand Ji A To Z Problem Solution 72 Hours And With 100% Guaranteed. 45 Years EXPERCANCE With In Astrology Systematic Call To Guru Ji +91-8239810997 And Get Advice From Him. Any Problem In Mobile +91-8239810997 Astrology or/and Vashikaran solutions are also very effective for resolving or averting extramarital affairs of husband or wife, in present and future years. Such solutions or measures can be maximally efficacious and safe if these are extended by a well-learned, well-experienced, righteous, and globally reputed astrologer or relationship vashikaran specialist, like our guru ji astrologer-cum-vashikaran specialist pt.Anand ji of India. This web-article is dedicated exclusively to offering detailed and very beneficial information over the solutions of our dignified and benevolent guru ji, for resolving or eliminating unwanted extramarital affairs of any partner of the married life, to make the domestic life smooth and succulent, peaceful, and truly opulent. The extramarital affairs of husband or wife could be caused by anyone or more of the following reasons: Astrological Factors Constantly increasing distance between husband and wife Differences in the lifestyle and priorities of the two married partners Absence of full confidence in the other partner Understanding and compatibility problems between husband and wife Easily available company of an alluring person of opposite gender Lack of marital harmony, intimacy, and succulence Issues related with financial, occupational, or social status of any INTERNATIONAL SERVICE WITH GUARANTEE POWERFUL LOVE ASTROLOGER Anand Ji FROMPUSKARJI RAJASTHAN 45 EXPERCANCE ALL PROBLEM SOLUTION BY SADHANA Hello can u disturb in your life problems and not get desire results? Here is the solution of all problems like as follow:- := love marriage := Business problemsolution := Problem in husband wife := Foreign traveling := Problem in study := Problem as childless := Physical problem := Problem in family relations := problem in your love := Willful marriage := Promotions our wised love back all solutions in your life within 72 hours and with 100% guaranteed. With in astrology systematic call to guru ji and get advice from him. Any problemsin Mobile :+91-8239810997WORLD NO. 1 FAMOUS GURU ASTROLOGER/INDIA /West Bengal OMAN Cape town canada america Usa in Ontario , Toronto Kuwait , Qatar , Doha , Saudi Arabia , San Francisco Singapore , Italy , Germany , Paris , Belgium, France , Berlin , Spain UK, USA, AUSTRALIA, UAE, DUABI, CANADA, Sydney,ENGLAND,united kingdom,SINGAPORE, NEWZEALAND, GERMANY, ITLY, MALASIYA,Abu dhabi London IN New York kuwait SouthAfrica,South Korea,Thailand Qatar,England,Queens California HongKong Japan Brazil More info visit my Website... http://www.thelovevashikaran.com/ Email .. [email protected]..................... Contact us. .+91-8239810997.............
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13
Somebody is shooting at something in our town -- A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open the blood, It can make black roses. Who are the shooting at? It is you the knives are out for At Waterloo, Waterloo, Napoleon, The **** of Elba on your short back, And the snow, marshaling its brilliant cutlery Mass after mass, saying Shh! Shh! These are chess people you play with, Still figures of ivory. The mud squirms with throats, Stepping stones for French bootsoles. The gilt and pink domes of Russia melt and float off In the furnace of greed. Clouds, clouds. So the swarm ***** and deserts Seventy feet up, in a black pine tree. It must be shot down. Pom! Pom! So dumb it thinks bullets are thunder. It thinks they are the voice of God Condoning the beak, the claw, the grin of the dog Yellow-haunched, a pack-dog, Grinning over its bone of ivory Like the pack, the pack, like everybody. The bees have got so far. Seventy feet high! Russia, Poland and Germany! The mild hills, the same old magenta Fields shrunk to a penny Spun into a river, the river crossed. The bees argue, in their black ball, A flying hedgehog, all prickles. The man with gray hands stands under the honeycomb Of their dream, the hived station Where trains, faithful to their steel arcs, Leave and arrive, and there is no end to the country. Pom! Pom! They fall Dismembered, to a tod of ivy. So much for the charioteers, the outriders, the Grand Army! A red tatter, Napoleon! The last badge of victory. The swarm is knocked into a cocked straw hat. Elba, Elba, bleb on the sea! The white busts of marshals, admirals, generals Worming themselves into niches. How instructive this is! The dumb, banded bodies Walking the plank draped with Mother France's upholstery Into a new mausoleum, An ivory palace, a crotch pine. The man with gray hands smiles -- The smile of a man of business, intensely practical. They are not hands at all But asbestos receptacles. Pom! Pom! 'They would have killed me.' Stings big as drawing pins! It seems bees have a notion of honor, A black intractable mind. Napoleon is pleased, he is pleased with everything. O Europe! O ton of honey!
0
7.8k
Sylvia Plath
The Swarm
Somebody is shooting at something in our town -- A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open the blood, It can make black roses. Who are the shooting at? It is you the knives are out for At Waterloo, Waterloo, Napoleon, The **** of Elba on your short back, And the snow, marshaling its brilliant cutlery Mass after mass, saying Shh! Shh! These are chess people you play with, Still figures of ivory. The mud squirms with throats, Stepping stones for French bootsoles. The gilt and pink domes of Russia melt and float off In the furnace of greed. Clouds, clouds. So the swarm ***** and deserts Seventy feet up, in a black pine tree. It must be shot down. Pom! Pom! So dumb it thinks bullets are thunder. It thinks they are the voice of God Condoning the beak, the claw, the grin of the dog Yellow-haunched, a pack-dog, Grinning over its bone of ivory Like the pack, the pack, like everybody. The bees have got so far. Seventy feet high! Russia, Poland and Germany! The mild hills, the same old magenta Fields shrunk to a penny Spun into a river, the river crossed. The bees argue, in their black ball, A flying hedgehog, all prickles. The man with gray hands stands under the honeycomb Of their dream, the hived station Where trains, faithful to their steel arcs, Leave and arrive, and there is no end to the country. Pom! Pom! They fall Dismembered, to a tod of ivy. So much for the charioteers, the outriders, the Grand Army! A red tatter, Napoleon! The last badge of victory. The swarm is knocked into a cocked straw hat. Elba, Elba, bleb on the sea! The white busts of marshals, admirals, generals Worming themselves into niches. How instructive this is! The dumb, banded bodies Walking the plank draped with Mother France's upholstery Into a new mausoleum, An ivory palace, a crotch pine. The man with gray hands smiles -- The smile of a man of business, intensely practical. They are not hands at all But asbestos receptacles. Pom! Pom! 'They would have killed me.' Stings big as drawing pins! It seems bees have a notion of honor, A black intractable mind. Napoleon is pleased, he is pleased with everything. O Europe! O ton of honey!
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60
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
alexander-k-opicho
poetic dystopia and the name theodore
The name Theodore has its Greek anthropologies, Jewish anthropologies and also Germany anthropologies. The Greek anthropological perspective of The name Theodore indeed has something to do with the gods.However, the Greek way of looking at life was a frustrated thinking.To them everything was a god. They had  a plethora of gods; utopia,cacotopia, Thespis, muse, clio, calypso, and Theodore was a half a god like Gabriel who impregnanted Mary on behalf of God as Joseph the cuckold carpenter patiently looked musing the ballad of a cuckold peasant . So Theodore and Gabriel were godsend.I  have not delved to know what it means among the Jews, But am aware of the the cultural and anthropological surroundings of the name Theodore in Germany . It is a name of a male person  signifying extra-masculine behavior. I also write poetry in Deutsch, so i know  substantial cultural values of the people of Germany.  Like in this case the modern  social  naming systems . I am aware of the anthropology of this Deutsch nomenclatural position.Why would link this name to Greeks but not Germany may due to  some silent social and emotional  disposition in Europe  that the  English speaking Europeans have a soft spot for  the Greek culture.While at the same time they become victims of high adrenaline level when exposed to anything Germany. they always get repulsed when the word Germany is mentioned.So one's  thesis on nomenclatural values of the name Theodore depends on which side of European  consciousness one is found; is it Germany friendly consciousness or Germany threatened consciousness? The dystopic component of the name Theodore is purely cacotopic with zero element of utopia , as extra-masculinity is a swine of  engendered civilization  all the times. Yours Alexander  k  Opicho NB/ i kindly  invite Theodore to come to  Kenya so that we do a joint research on the Swahili perspectives of the name Theodore, in Kiswahili the name Theodore  is subverted to bwana tadayo
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4
Watching Trending videos on YouTube, 2 of the top ten videos are dead, which means I’m watching ghosts, having deja vu see it seems I’ve seen this scene before, Rest In Peace Mac Miller, Resit In Pease Xxxtentacion, this spirits have be writing frantically, going for gold or at least an honorable mention, want to be anything except forgotten, skin is fresh but core is rotten, scent of cologne watching Post Malone, give an interview on Jimmy Fallon, seems we’ve fallen, and our idols are a sign of where we’re at, war never stopped it just changed forms, from Germany to Vietnam to Iraq, as the sun sets over San Francisco Bay, I watch the colors run, indifferent to the cause and the effect, nothing’s perfect but the sky always looks so beautiful, as I gaze out this bedroom window, in a house I do not own, just touched down from Australia, back in The Bay for another round, taking a moment to reflect, in my feelings as the sun sets, and it feels like we’ve seen it all, even though we know we haven’t seen anything yet, watching Trending videos on YouTube, 2 of the top ten videos are dead, which means I’m watching ghosts, having deja vu see it seems I’ve seen this scene before… ∆ LaLux ∆
0
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
aaronlalux
{ Seeing Ghost }
Watching Trending videos on YouTube, 2 of the top ten videos are dead, which means I’m watching ghosts, having deja vu see it seems I’ve seen this scene before, Rest In Peace Mac Miller, Resit In Pease Xxxtentacion, this spirits have be writing frantically, going for gold or at least an honorable mention, want to be anything except forgotten, skin is fresh but core is rotten, scent of cologne watching Post Malone, give an interview on Jimmy Fallon, seems we’ve fallen, and our idols are a sign of where we’re at, war never stopped it just changed forms, from Germany to Vietnam to Iraq, as the sun sets over San Francisco Bay, I watch the colors run, indifferent to the cause and the effect, nothing’s perfect but the sky always looks so beautiful, as I gaze out this bedroom window, in a house I do not own, just touched down from Australia, back in The Bay for another round, taking a moment to reflect, in my feelings as the sun sets, and it feels like we’ve seen it all, even though we know we haven’t seen anything yet, watching Trending videos on YouTube, 2 of the top ten videos are dead, which means I’m watching ghosts, having deja vu see it seems I’ve seen this scene before… ∆ LaLux ∆
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33
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
0
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
RAJNANDY
WORLD WAR II - ADOLF ******
Dear Poet Friends, Here is a poem by a young Canadian poet named Darien, which I found while browsing the Net! I would like to share this with you as a prelude to my poem about the 'Rise of The Third Reich', - which I hope to post on this Site shortly. Thanks, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi World War II - ADOLF ****** by DARIEN,  Aug 21, 2006 Austria raised a man so vile and vicious His life was dark, callous and malicious Passions of hatred engraved in his mind As he plotted to create his own mankind A soldier for Germany in World War One War to end all wars had only just begun The National Socialist Party appeared fast Their numbers grew rapidly as time passed Charismatic oratory and propaganda his tool False promises made, people he would fool Were Nazis the one to bring hope? Perhaps Without their help Germany would collapse The Reichstag Fire would be a stepping stone Germany's President died, he took the throne He became the fuhrer leader of all Germany And would start the worst war of the century War had been started with a Nazi-Soviet pact Together with Russia, Poland they attacked England and France were not ready for war Marching of Nazis soldiers was not ignored. Mussolini became his ally and supported him For all other countries their chances were slim Many countries were defeated in a few days the Fascist and Nazis would give him praise Blitzkrieg was a strategy that worked most In defeating all his enemies he came close The Nazis would spread all across Europe But it would be at Stalingrad they would stop Communist regimes were one group he did hate Yet it was the Jews he would try to annihilate In all cruelty, bloodshed, war would soon end There was still so much for people to defend On V-Day he saw all his armies demolished ****** and fascism in Europe was abolished World War Two ended the areas were secure From that evil, monstrous beast Adolf ******                                       - By Darien. (Canada)   ..........................................................................
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41
Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary *This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace, And heeld after the newe world the space.* Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales How out of date are simple wooden beads An upgrade is what the Rosary needs! Something to give your meditations spice Connected to your electronic device Beamed back and forth to The Cloud, you see With mega-mega gigs of memory Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary is just the thing! The Ave Maria is so out of date It’s Ave ME now, ‘cause we’re all so great! Make your prayers less about God, more about you Signal yourself through sacred Tooth of Blue A camera hidden in the crucifix Enables you to take your selfie-flicks The Pater beads count each joggery mile Or kilometres if those are your style The Ave beads are recycled with care To save the forests, the rivers, and air Designed in Germany, made in China High-definition beads; there’s nothing finer Buy the first (as advertised on tv) And we’ll send you a second all for free Remember: for weddings, funerals, and daily devotions Let RAM and ROM go through all the motions Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary – O make it sing!
0
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
lawrence-hall
Doctor Ponsonby's Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary
Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary *This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace, And heeld after the newe world the space.* Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales How out of date are simple wooden beads An upgrade is what the Rosary needs! Something to give your meditations spice Connected to your electronic device Beamed back and forth to The Cloud, you see With mega-mega gigs of memory Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary is just the thing! The Ave Maria is so out of date It’s Ave ME now, ‘cause we’re all so great! Make your prayers less about God, more about you Signal yourself through sacred Tooth of Blue A camera hidden in the crucifix Enables you to take your selfie-flicks The Pater beads count each joggery mile Or kilometres if those are your style The Ave beads are recycled with care To save the forests, the rivers, and air Designed in Germany, made in China High-definition beads; there’s nothing finer Buy the first (as advertised on tv) And we’ll send you a second all for free Remember: for weddings, funerals, and daily devotions Let RAM and ROM go through all the motions Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary – O make it sing!
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30
white man says make america great again white man says it like he ever knew America bad like he ever knew anything but privilege white man says take us back to better times and I wonder which he means maybe genocide or slavery or Jim Crow or woman only knows kitchen or woman doesn't get vote or back of the bus or don't ask don't tell or all that war and all that death white man says make America great again like it ever was to begin with other white man says make America Christian again like this country wasn't founded on freedom of religion like you’re only free to have it if you love Jesus white man says conservative with fear between his own teeth says the word like it's a dying breed like it'd be a bad thing if it did says it like he knows a **** thing about what it means to be a minority white man says **** political correctness as if kindness requires too much effort as if it's a mistake to be considerate as if words don’t have significance white man says Mexican Mexican Muslim says go back says you're not wanted here sounds a lot like 1941 Germany sounds a lot like ****** Mexican Muslim brown person doesn't know how much survival it takes to be one in this country white man says legal like it only means good like these men who look just like him don't walk into movie theatres and shoot into schools and shoot into churches and shoot into mosques and shoot into human and shoot tell me again what it means to be legal to belong here to have the right to be alive without chains say we'd rather have guns walk free than citizens say we'd rather save money than lives say this country's got too many problems say you know how to fix it white man says make America great again but doesn’t know that progress doesn’t work in reverse tell me again how going backward will make the future any brighter when our past is a reflection of all the light we never really had
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
danielle-shorr
GOP
white man says make america great again white man says it like he ever knew America bad like he ever knew anything but privilege white man says take us back to better times and I wonder which he means maybe genocide or slavery or Jim Crow or woman only knows kitchen or woman doesn't get vote or back of the bus or don't ask don't tell or all that war and all that death white man says make America great again like it ever was to begin with other white man says make America Christian again like this country wasn't founded on freedom of religion like you’re only free to have it if you love Jesus white man says conservative with fear between his own teeth says the word like it's a dying breed like it'd be a bad thing if it did says it like he knows a **** thing about what it means to be a minority white man says **** political correctness as if kindness requires too much effort as if it's a mistake to be considerate as if words don’t have significance white man says Mexican Mexican Muslim says go back says you're not wanted here sounds a lot like 1941 Germany sounds a lot like ****** Mexican Muslim brown person doesn't know how much survival it takes to be one in this country white man says legal like it only means good like these men who look just like him don't walk into movie theatres and shoot into schools and shoot into churches and shoot into mosques and shoot into human and shoot tell me again what it means to be legal to belong here to have the right to be alive without chains say we'd rather have guns walk free than citizens say we'd rather save money than lives say this country's got too many problems say you know how to fix it white man says make America great again but doesn’t know that progress doesn’t work in reverse tell me again how going backward will make the future any brighter when our past is a reflection of all the light we never really had
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75
Stalingrad- Germany wanted control, But they weren't going to get it. Silly men, Unaware that they would freeze to the bone In those harsh Russian mountains. Is oil worth it? Torch- the British thought it was a simple plan. It was, but barely. The soft underbelly, The Mediterranean to France, through Italy? Kick the Axis out of North Africa? Piece of cake. D-Day- a finale? Maybe. The ships and planes at the ready, A possible surprise. Parachutes And men on foot storming the beaches of Normandy. Shots fired, push east where they belong. Coming from the North and South. Cinch like a corset Strings are drawn against the axis. Good luck holding up your empire in this day and age.
0
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
trip-through-time
In Order
Stalingrad- Germany wanted control, But they weren't going to get it. Silly men, Unaware that they would freeze to the bone In those harsh Russian mountains. Is oil worth it? Torch- the British thought it was a simple plan. It was, but barely. The soft underbelly, The Mediterranean to France, through Italy? Kick the Axis out of North Africa? Piece of cake. D-Day- a finale? Maybe. The ships and planes at the ready, A possible surprise. Parachutes And men on foot storming the beaches of Normandy. Shots fired, push east where they belong. Coming from the North and South. Cinch like a corset Strings are drawn against the axis. Good luck holding up your empire in this day and age.
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17
All my poems are The same, aren't they? *"You're being lied to by a corrupt, Imperialistic government, Corporations own your soul, We're destroying the planet's Natural resources, making It uninhabitable, to ourselves and Driving other species to extinction, Capitalism is unethical, and It subverts the potential For real democracy, Yada yada yada yada Blah blah blah"* Maybe I should write about Something else, but what? I like flowers, Flowers are nice, Especially orchids, but Not those weird, Smelly ones that grow On Callery trees... no Those things reek like Stale **** and sour milk. Ah, but who could deny The pungent and delicate Fragrance of a rose? Someone with anosmia, That's who. What, you didn't Stop to think about, People with disabilities? How incredibly Inconsiderate! What are you? Some sort of Overprivileged, straight, White, cis male ableist? **** off, you ****** You might as well Be a fascist. I would Tell you to go back To **** Germany, but HEY, NEWS FLASH, It's 2015, buddy, Grow up and join Us adults here in The real world. Wait... where was I going with this?
0
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
iliveinyourhead
Something Different
All my poems are The same, aren't they? *"You're being lied to by a corrupt, Imperialistic government, Corporations own your soul, We're destroying the planet's Natural resources, making It uninhabitable, to ourselves and Driving other species to extinction, Capitalism is unethical, and It subverts the potential For real democracy, Yada yada yada yada Blah blah blah"* Maybe I should write about Something else, but what? I like flowers, Flowers are nice, Especially orchids, but Not those weird, Smelly ones that grow On Callery trees... no Those things reek like Stale **** and sour milk. Ah, but who could deny The pungent and delicate Fragrance of a rose? Someone with anosmia, That's who. What, you didn't Stop to think about, People with disabilities? How incredibly Inconsiderate! What are you? Some sort of Overprivileged, straight, White, cis male ableist? **** off, you ****** You might as well Be a fascist. I would Tell you to go back To **** Germany, but HEY, NEWS FLASH, It's 2015, buddy, Grow up and join Us adults here in The real world. Wait... where was I going with this?
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50
Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty Expel my demons and watch them die with me Satan Lord, Leviathan Give my demons an interesting origin Plague me with poets smoking joints rolled with rejected poems Fill my thoughts with cockney accented thespians Let them hold Academy award nominations from films long forgotten Enthuse my self-destruction Bring me goth kids brought up in wholesome homes Bring me Art school students choosing to abandon their degrees Bring me women aroused by smashed clocks Bring me men aroused by awkward teenagers Bring me Christians questioning their faith Lord Almighty, God, Yahweh, Jehovah Tell me the story of your disagreements with Vishnu Let me see Moloch's disgruntlement and subsequent drunk and disorderly Show me when Hera was seducing your nephew Bring me into the world of the soap opera battles Write to me Paris Write to me Paris I want to read your poetry I want to read your mind Sing to me Helen Embrace me and we shall escape from torments Heavenly and humane We shall watch hipsters walk past us Smoking Spirits and drinking poison berry teas Let Adam grow disgruntled Let children laugh If, Lord Jesus, you grant me my wish Send me a djinn with evil in his heart Who's bound to be annoyed by my desires Send me an ent to lift me above my world Send me an elf to love me for all my time Send me a mountain to travel over home Transport me to Germany Transport me to Spain Transport me to New Zealand Give me a free pass, one-way ticket to Darwin's islands Write my story so that I collect new, unprecedented species And devour the flesh of my find Hide me in Antarctica with a monstrous creation of my own mind Let me eat Let me gorge Then starve me Show me Caligula Show me Marilyn Monroe Then leave me with Ed Wood And force me to watch his films so that I may inherit my grandfather's fortune in comic books Which, of course, will bring her to love me again Oh Lord Jesus Lord of Hosts Possess me so that I may live again
0
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
danteinfers
I'm not neurotic or depressed, but I find myself full of Drive with nowhere to go with it
Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty Expel my demons and watch them die with me Satan Lord, Leviathan Give my demons an interesting origin Plague me with poets smoking joints rolled with rejected poems Fill my thoughts with cockney accented thespians Let them hold Academy award nominations from films long forgotten Enthuse my self-destruction Bring me goth kids brought up in wholesome homes Bring me Art school students choosing to abandon their degrees Bring me women aroused by smashed clocks Bring me men aroused by awkward teenagers Bring me Christians questioning their faith Lord Almighty, God, Yahweh, Jehovah Tell me the story of your disagreements with Vishnu Let me see Moloch's disgruntlement and subsequent drunk and disorderly Show me when Hera was seducing your nephew Bring me into the world of the soap opera battles Write to me Paris Write to me Paris I want to read your poetry I want to read your mind Sing to me Helen Embrace me and we shall escape from torments Heavenly and humane We shall watch hipsters walk past us Smoking Spirits and drinking poison berry teas Let Adam grow disgruntled Let children laugh If, Lord Jesus, you grant me my wish Send me a djinn with evil in his heart Who's bound to be annoyed by my desires Send me an ent to lift me above my world Send me an elf to love me for all my time Send me a mountain to travel over home Transport me to Germany Transport me to Spain Transport me to New Zealand Give me a free pass, one-way ticket to Darwin's islands Write my story so that I collect new, unprecedented species And devour the flesh of my find Hide me in Antarctica with a monstrous creation of my own mind Let me eat Let me gorge Then starve me Show me Caligula Show me Marilyn Monroe Then leave me with Ed Wood And force me to watch his films so that I may inherit my grandfather's fortune in comic books Which, of course, will bring her to love me again Oh Lord Jesus Lord of Hosts Possess me so that I may live again
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53
Diaspora From the Greek When I heard the word I felt it And I looked it up In my old red dictionary I could have used the Internet, I suppose But I like to run my forefinger down pages Of words I read the definition And I felt it Oh Oh We are diaspora. Am I using it correctly? We are a diaspora. Diaspora From the Greek From the green valley of Ottawa From Scotland From Ireland on wooden boats From the French village thirteen children From the mines in the North From Poland and from Germany From the churches and From the Blueberry patches From the Island Manitoulin From the dark lake Kagawong From Kinburn and Arnprior From Markstay and from Sudbury From Waterloo From Kitchener, Michener From the Suburbs Oh From the Suburbs From the red bricks, red currants And geraniums From green island cabins From the desert Oh From the desert From the potholes and pipes From the salty wind Cracked Caspian Sea From the middle of the east of nowhere. From the mountains Oh From the mountains From the crystal water fountains From the tram bells On the cobblestone streets From the torrents of the Rhein From the white cross Oh From the white cross On the green hill From the river Laurence From the French and from the English Plains of Abraham We are diaspora We are a diaspora Diaspora From the Greek How did it end up here on my tongue? It is diaspora. It is a diaspora Diaspora is a diaspora And I wonder if it misses its other pieces The way that I miss mine Ours There is no Roping us back together now There is no Home to go back to There is no Point of meeting Of reunion No White steeple in our old town No Yellow slide in our backyard No Old folks on an old farm No Walled house on a hill No Luzernerring 93 No Familiar riverwater There is no Ancient Greek anymore Diaspora Only fragments of fragments Of roots of stems of words In different dialects There is no Place for you to belong, Diaspora You’ve been sliced to pieces And scattered Into the wind But When people ask you Where you are from You say simply From the Greek Oh From the Greek And When people ask me Where I am from I say simply From the diaspora.
0
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
ariel-evangeline-baptista
From the Greek
Diaspora From the Greek When I heard the word I felt it And I looked it up In my old red dictionary I could have used the Internet, I suppose But I like to run my forefinger down pages Of words I read the definition And I felt it Oh Oh We are diaspora. Am I using it correctly? We are a diaspora. Diaspora From the Greek From the green valley of Ottawa From Scotland From Ireland on wooden boats From the French village thirteen children From the mines in the North From Poland and from Germany From the churches and From the Blueberry patches From the Island Manitoulin From the dark lake Kagawong From Kinburn and Arnprior From Markstay and from Sudbury From Waterloo From Kitchener, Michener From the Suburbs Oh From the Suburbs From the red bricks, red currants And geraniums From green island cabins From the desert Oh From the desert From the potholes and pipes From the salty wind Cracked Caspian Sea From the middle of the east of nowhere. From the mountains Oh From the mountains From the crystal water fountains From the tram bells On the cobblestone streets From the torrents of the Rhein From the white cross Oh From the white cross On the green hill From the river Laurence From the French and from the English Plains of Abraham We are diaspora We are a diaspora Diaspora From the Greek How did it end up here on my tongue? It is diaspora. It is a diaspora Diaspora is a diaspora And I wonder if it misses its other pieces The way that I miss mine Ours There is no Roping us back together now There is no Home to go back to There is no Point of meeting Of reunion No White steeple in our old town No Yellow slide in our backyard No Old folks on an old farm No Walled house on a hill No Luzernerring 93 No Familiar riverwater There is no Ancient Greek anymore Diaspora Only fragments of fragments Of roots of stems of words In different dialects There is no Place for you to belong, Diaspora You’ve been sliced to pieces And scattered Into the wind But When people ask you Where you are from You say simply From the Greek Oh From the Greek And When people ask me Where I am from I say simply From the diaspora.
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113
Long gone are the days of ****** No more people say, "Alle Rufen ****** Germany is now aseptic and really safe, Na'zi germs are no longer there.
0
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 1:54 AM UTC
Atul
****** is History & Germany has no **** Germs
Long gone are the days of ****** No more people say, "Alle Rufen ****** Germany is now aseptic and really safe, Na'zi germs are no longer there.
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4
A sapling restrained from its dirt prison Wanting to sail across the vast seas Yearning for liberation Rain brew in the mighty sky The little sapling endured valiantly The sporadic growth of the sapling now on tie Tempest devoured by the radiant sun Absorbing nutrients from the sun’s jubilance The days till maturity became none The petals of the primrose began to blossom A majestic scent pervaded the boundless air The options veered from lean to awesome Spain, Germany, Belgium, and France Foreign mountains, towers, and customs Now in sight from the blossom dance
0
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 7:28 AM UTC
michael-mitchell
Primrose Blossom
A sapling restrained from its dirt prison Wanting to sail across the vast seas Yearning for liberation Rain brew in the mighty sky The little sapling endured valiantly The sporadic growth of the sapling now on tie Tempest devoured by the radiant sun Absorbing nutrients from the sun’s jubilance The days till maturity became none The petals of the primrose began to blossom A majestic scent pervaded the boundless air The options veered from lean to awesome Spain, Germany, Belgium, and France Foreign mountains, towers, and customs Now in sight from the blossom dance
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15
He’s a spoiled rich kid In the land of the one percent. He feels no remorse for Those who can’t pay their rent. He’s popular with fools And a bunch of toothless boozers All the while laughing And calling them all losers. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates. He won’t be held to the fire Half-truths work for him just fine. He’d prefer you not inquire. Nobody makes him toe the line. He is paraphrasing fascism Like he’s the one who invented it. It’s like Germany in 1930s They could have easily prevented it. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates. Here’s the way to make it Work the best for a new dictatorship. You take the populace along On your traveling one-man ego trip After your party has published Scurrilous big lies about the opposition Then spread a lot more rumors Which gives the voters their ammunition. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates.
0
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
brent-kincaid
DICTATORSHIP USA USA USA
He’s a spoiled rich kid In the land of the one percent. He feels no remorse for Those who can’t pay their rent. He’s popular with fools And a bunch of toothless boozers All the while laughing And calling them all losers. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates. He won’t be held to the fire Half-truths work for him just fine. He’d prefer you not inquire. Nobody makes him toe the line. He is paraphrasing fascism Like he’s the one who invented it. It’s like Germany in 1930s They could have easily prevented it. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates. Here’s the way to make it Work the best for a new dictatorship. You take the populace along On your traveling one-man ego trip After your party has published Scurrilous big lies about the opposition Then spread a lot more rumors Which gives the voters their ammunition. The favorite son of the GOP Says nothing with specificity. He just makes vague promises He has no idea what his platform is. He only knows if he stirs up hate He will win certain delegates.
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42
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
alexander-k-opicho
Echoing Taban Makitiyong Reneket Lo Liyong
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.
Continue reading...
56
So you did remember me. Having not heard from you in an eternity (10 days), wondering if you've forgotten me, drawing rather graphic mental images of some girl you're ******** it's good to hear from you. The beer may be small, but for a second I envied that cold glass of alcohol, which looked too comfortable in your tight grip. Jesus, I'm jealous of a ******* glass of beer. Come home soon, even though neither of us have one.
0
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
harsh
Whatsapp from Germany
So you did remember me. Having not heard from you in an eternity (10 days), wondering if you've forgotten me, drawing rather graphic mental images of some girl you're ******** it's good to hear from you. The beer may be small, but for a second I envied that cold glass of alcohol, which looked too comfortable in your tight grip. Jesus, I'm jealous of a ******* glass of beer. Come home soon, even though neither of us have one.
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11
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.      “No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.      “You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.      With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.      “What’s your name?” I asked him.      “Ivan”.      “Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.      “Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”      “You like living here?” I wondered aloud.      “Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”      “You mean trout?”      “Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.      “Were you in the war?”      “Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”      I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”      The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.      “I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.      “After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.      “The mines?”      “Yes, during the war they mined the water.”      I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return. “You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
MorganLA
Fishing
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.      “No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.      “You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.      With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.      “What’s your name?” I asked him.      “Ivan”.      “Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.      “Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”      “You like living here?” I wondered aloud.      “Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”      “You mean trout?”      “Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.      “Were you in the war?”      “Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”      I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”      The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.      “I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.      “After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.      “The mines?”      “Yes, during the war they mined the water.”      I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return. “You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
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have you guys ever been to großburgwedel? it's in germany i am there right now to have my right leg examined sure: it's raining the sky is grey and all that well well but one thing i am certain of: i wouldn't come here again except i want to gain certainty i have nothing against the people from großburgwedel i simply don't want to live in grey lands: grey faces grey voices and many right-winged persons I LOVE COLORS I LOVE THE GERMAN AND THE ETHIOPIAN FLAG I LOVE MY BI-RACIAL FAMILY
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Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 7:26 AM UTC
maxneumann
Grey Lands
have you guys ever been to großburgwedel? it's in germany i am there right now to have my right leg examined sure: it's raining the sky is grey and all that well well but one thing i am certain of: i wouldn't come here again except i want to gain certainty i have nothing against the people from großburgwedel i simply don't want to live in grey lands: grey faces grey voices and many right-winged persons I LOVE COLORS I LOVE THE GERMAN AND THE ETHIOPIAN FLAG I LOVE MY BI-RACIAL FAMILY
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