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Victor Marques Mar 2014
Além de um espectáculo singular!
O riacho corre sem parar...
O melro com seu bico amarelo,
Pintassilgo atrás de um pouco de farelo.

As videiras com seus rebentos,
Esquilos saem de seus aposentos,
As flores para nos alegrar,
Grilo faz gri gri para nos chamar.

Águias no céu azulinho,
Pardal constrói seu ninho,
Ai o cão até ladra sozinho.
Eu aqui perdido com devoção,
Amando a natureza até à exaustão.

Lagartos, aranhas e formigas,
Libelinhas vaidosas , divertidas,
Raposas e lobitos adormecem sim senhor,
Natureza em todo o seu esplendor.

Victor Marques
Kody dibble Feb 2015
Chasing street light fantasies
In the day time by the Waterloo
Innocent retrieval,
Grafted minds searching together,
For treasures and such,
Aloud the gung **'
Nighttime renniaunce


Sea time and money
Make jokes about honey and coke,
Lifeless fruitless
Without hope
Yea
Muzaffer Mar 2019
hergün yazıyorsun
diyordu
*** bir iş bul kendine

seni kimse okumaz
bu saçma hikayen de
karnımızı doyurmaz

ütü işinde becerikliydi
koca götlü daphne

sürekli geriye atardı saçımı
zekamla birlikte
üzüm misali karardım
3-5 yıl

sonra kırmızı bir araba geldi
günün birinde long island’dan

kocaman gözlükleri vardı
beyaz önlüklü gergedanların

karga tulumba severmiş gibi
bileklerim bağlı
sedye
tarlasında buldum kendimi

güney
cepheden yağmur yağıyordu
ve
saat 3 yönüne dönüyorduk
her köşe başından

ve hep aynı resim
aynı dişti ağızdan fırlayan

macun reklamı olduğunu
anlamamıştım
ama sonra hatırladım tabii

süt şişesi kalınlığında hemşire
kepinden tanımıştım
kaba etime
zerk ettiğinde iğne olduğunu

sonra bana abuk sabuk
şekiller gösterdiler
gri bir odada

sürekli
soruyordu dolma burun
bu ne
bu ne
peki bu ne
ya bu ne

hep aynı
cevabı veriyordum
çaydanlık
çaydanlık!

yemekler oldukça kötüydü
beyazlar da öyle

ama dostlar
onlar prima
mc.allison vardı b blokta

acayip severdim
güvercin beslermiş o zaman
büyükçe bir parti vermiş birgün
ve kuşları zehirlemiş

down town
sheriff’i bile gelmiş düşünsene

hayli keyifli geçmiş gece
sabaha karşı herkes hastanede

40 ölü var diyordu gülerek
20 güvercinle 40 domuz vurdum

deli herhalde diyordum içimden
sahi ben neden buradayım

altıma kaçırıyordum mütemadiyen
hergün temiz çarşaf
hergün ters yüz yatak
1yıl sonra
kurul toplandı

her yerde çaydanlık resmi vardı
tuhafıma gitmiş
sormuştum bunlar ne diye

hepsi ayrı ayrı dizayn edilmiş
ve hepsi farklı keyif

köşede olana takıldı gözüm
soruları sularken

ama sürekli
o çaydanlığa bakıyordum
sonra anladım

görüyordum
çaydanlıktan
akıyordu beynime daphne

ve maalesef
yanık tütüyordu çenesi
*** iş bul
iş bul der gibi
kuzineden sarkan dili...
Hunter Taylor Feb 2019
hea                                    rts
lo            ve      ­                pa            in
and
   yearn                          to                           learn  
    thro                                                        ­     ugh    
gri                                                      ­          ef.
  ple                                              ­              ase
   for                                                       get
     m                                                    y  
  shal                                     low
    lo                             ve
   de                   ar
     for          I
        cannot
        .
"Hearts Love Pain and Yearn to Learn Through Grief. Please Forget My Shallow Love Dear For I Cannot."
Muzaffer May 2019
belli
standartlara bağlı kalmadan
uyanıyorum sabahları

kahrolası rüyaların
uykumu budamasından nefret ediyorum
ama alıştım artık

akşamdan kalma suratımı
camdan yalayan güneşe dayıyorum
uyanır uyanmaz

dua etmem
gerekmiyor hizmet için tanrıya
hem kilise ikonları cezbetmiyor

vaaza karnım tok
sübyancı piçler diye kalaylıyorum
okudukça pisliklerini

aslolan
kutsal kase
gri tayyörün eteğine bayılıyorum
susurluk ayranı gibi dökülen döküle
çıkıyor akşam merdivenlerimi

sıyırırken vaftizleniyor parmaklarım
bir ayinden, diğerine
koro halinde akustik ayetlerim
duvarların dili olsa


"tanrı seni korusun emma"

en azından benim için

iri memelerin
sütun bacak ve
barok sevişlerin

sonu gelmez
gelme sorunum için..

"tanrı seni korusun emma"

en azından
ikimizden biri ölene kadar..


..
Muzaffer Feb 2020
hergün yazıyorsun
diyordu
*** bir iş bul kendine
seni kimse okumaz
bu dandik hikayen de
karnımızı doyurmaz

ütü işinde becerikliydi
koca götlü daphne
sürekli geriye atardı saçımı
zekamla birlikte
üzüm misali karardım
3-5 yıl

sonra kırmızı bir araba geldi
günün birinde long island’dan
kocaman gözlükleri vardı
beyaz önlüklü gergedanların

karga tulumba severmiş gibi
bileklerim bağlı
sedye
tarlasında buldum kendimi

güney
cepheden yağmur yağıyordu
ve
saat 3 yönüne dönüyorduk
her köşe başından

hep aynı resim
ve
aynı dişti ağızdan fırlayan

macun reklamı olduğunu
ayıkamamıştım
ama sonra hatırladım tabi

süt şişesi kalınlığında hemşire
kepinden tanımıştım
kaba etime
zerk ettiğinde iğne olduğunu

sonra bana abuk sabuk
şekiller gösterdiler
gri bir odada
sürekli
soruyordu dolma burun
bu ne
bu ne
peki bu ne
ya bu ne
hep aynı
cevabı veriyordum
çaydanlık
çaydanlık!

yemekler oldukça kötüydü
beyazlar da öyle
ama dostlar
onlar prima
mc.allison vardı b blokta
acayip severdim

güvercin beslermiş o zaman
büyükçe bir parti vermiş bi'gün
ve kuşları zehirlemiş

suffolk county
sheriff'i bile gelmiş düşünsene
hayli keyifli geçmiş gece

sabaha karşı herkes hastanede
40 ölü var diyordu gülerek
20 güvercinle 40 domuz vurdum

deli herhalde diyordum içimden
sahi ben neden buradayım
altıma kaçırıyordum mütemadiyen
hergün temiz çarşaf
hergün ters yüz yatak

1yıl sonra
hz. kurul toplandı
her yerde çaydanlık resmi vardı
tuhafıma gitmiş
sormuştum bunlar ne diye

hepsi ayrı ayrı dizayn edilmiş
ve hepsi farklı keyif
köşede olana takıldı gözüm
soruları sularken

ama sürekli
o çaydanlığa bakıyordum
sonra anladım
görüyordum
çaydanlıktan
akıyordu beynime daphne

ve maalesef
yanık tütüyordu çenesi
*** iş bul
iş bul der gibi
kuzineden sarkan dili
This poem is Turkish.
Encorporations, Liebling --
Weforms, y bubbles in being buvvles.
Ancient knowing, long sacred, hidden,
as with the legend of confused names,

Epimythiums accosting promethean bets,

day and night, eat  your heart out, free
from regrets, satisfied mind, okeh, free

to act as agent
for lady liberty, here post feudal self,

as discovered in a canyon, much the same
as Sha'gri La from story, Havasu Canyon,
as home of a boy I knew, whose grandfather

had made peace, with good intention,
to remain in Supai until the end of time,

then, there come the missionaries, guessing
Victory in Jesus would rouse the innocents
to repent for never having imagined Hell,

as sure as can be made believe,
by **** sapien innocents,

never led by setters free,
into known uses
of old Eber clan ever words,
otherwise, still, small, breather thinking ideas,

whims like what if this is that, and we ready,
readers like think as fast as we can write,
as if we have been taught to dance
as when we drum along and dance

in mindful memorizational motivational wills,
to live the story we form as our weform agrees,

these are the realms of spirits, these are words
enough for the wise in any situation, sent, willing

to breathe, and feel, the whole wind working bit,
the smoke you may use, indeed, see believing
work out a salve for that itching ear, feeling

we form on-demand, at hand, at touche', indeed,
doing done, done did get done, this away from that,

back to the future,
through common senses used,
globally translatable
with Google Translate, using

copy and paste
of encoded letting out of dogmen,
from another mindform mingled

with mine, shall we

imagine Ancestory.com as a technology needing a lie,
to make believers
in what DNA can prove today,

if we go back far enough,
we were masters or slaves, and masters knew,

what slaves were not at liberty
to know,

without former knowers telling, so

dystopia ontological negative hope,

the princess and the pea, and me,
the wildass idea,
in the vineyard,

as the a sunbeam purpled
in a cluster

carried me
in a reverie
of poetic grandeur

indeed, into the afterward, ward after last.
My deed for today. Done.
seeds, if seeds may be said to know their form, finally,
seeds, indeed, purely one thing and not another,

mind seed sown in cultural inspirational - tellings,

minds learn to discern royal blood and therefore,

rightness of the entire idea, sown into a learning reader,
ready with a why, at the lesson where bluebirds read

the princess and the pea, while slower learners read
**** and Jane.

BLT's Merriam-Webster's Word of The Day Challenge
November 23rd/negotiate-
to discuss something formally
in order
to make an agreement
If you choose to partake,
post your piece, then message me so that I may
re post and add it
to the collection found
on my home page

---- a seed vault open to any with the knowing in freemind.
mindtimespace all points pastlessfreeformind and still

Shotgun negotiations happened or I never could have.
Says the the teller of this tale.

A son of Catholic immigrants
in western Louisiana,

a man broken by religion, broken
so he knew, it's true, nothing one can do,

know your place,
play your part,
be of some use
to the bubbles around you,

[preposed suppositions,
from stories fed us,
gaseous weforms,
in the old country, not so long ago, one long
generation ago, the first middle class land owners

took the power
of providential ownership rights,
from feudal orders
of religious utilized mind sets,

ai allow, life's reproofs are all open book,
fact checks are assumed and presumed
proof that you could know this already… okeh.

When royalty crashed, while back///

owning and renting or selling life for sustenance
referred
to as actual
same old middle men,
know a guy knows a guy become
go to in a pinch, hold true
stick to the story, we be

Petite Bourgeoisie:
With the decline
of feudal structures
in the 13th century, a new middle class emerged.
This group consisted of:

Peasant entrepreneurs:
Former serfs who acquired land
and became small-scale farmers,
often through the sale
of baronial, Church,
and common land.

Artisans and traders:
Craftsmen, merchants,
and traders who profited
from the island’s commercial activities,
particularly In cities like Palermo and Messina.

And the harness power used
in production at scale
==== created equal
in unreasonable terms, at scale

---- same bubble we breathed in Sicily
Conca d’Oro… not so long ago, you know, using time
as opposed
to being used
to do nonsensical stuff,
constantly abiding
in realities back rooms, thinking, stuff

Working Class:
The majority
of the population consisted of:

Peasants:
Agricultural laborers who worked
on large estates (latifundia) or smallholdings.
- and- old world rat, new world rat
- old school subsets of weforms, not usian.

Urban workers:
Laborers in cities,
including artisans, craftsmen, and service workers.
- and- city mouse, country mouse
- old school subsets of weforms, not usian.

And, back at the ranch, the old man I am,
is a social hermit, who has a wildassinine idea
bridled in the most sacred way, as symbols go,

Some loss of pride in a family, a shotgun wedding,
to some white trash busted cowboy's fifteen year old,

You had the Johns Hopkins tie-in, then PM&M inside,
we hooked across the actual mechanic at JPL,
Uncle Eddy, there's a story,… mq viz. ai vid licet/okeh

But not today, and I let, or took, bethatasmay air breathe

Cosa Nostra:
In the late 19th century, organized crime networks,
commonly known as Cosa Nostra,
emerged as a powerful force
in Sicilian society.

These networks were characterized
by a hierarchical structure,
with leaders exercising control
over territory and economic activities.

So, a son who backslid Catholicly,
how likely now, is he to allow his son,

to be dedicated to God,
other than that of Evangline
survivors? Actual Acadian Bloodlines,

memes in genes, guilt
from confirmation on,
during the days
of good work runnin' communion
wine, so the archetypical good old boy, black haired
Cajun Queen sons, ever
body say so son, see we be
became sweeter after confession,
as some may assume many must recall,
didn't that happen to you?

in time to intervene during boring same ol' days,
these days, I stood out on my deck, samesa porch,

and I shut my eyes'n kept the green negative,
on the background seen through

the tech, and the accepted challenge, group mind
negotiate a global poetic peace agreement adaptable

to hero worshipping warrior minds implanted in boys,

during the cold war, allowing the best and brightest
to be used as button pushers on real Polaris submarines,

imagine that guy was your vice president, freshman class,
while you were president, and shoulda known better
first class stealer of ***** from the drugstore,
before there were convex mirrors,
or cameras that could see back doors, and
every place always had back doors and rooms,
unsightly messes, never intended to be seen,

but were… lotathatshitinherethunderingherdwords.

Ghost Riders in the Sky,
dementia mention ever after thinking all this

feels like an action movie, and we are all NPCs,
in the car wrecks during the chase scenes who lose

loose, loo, wow, the genes you missed, be thankful,

Meme archeology… as pseudo faith conscious hope form

good lives must become fun to pretend to have, or else
in good futures that were prayed to seem as heaven here,

as imagined, when Ammerica imnemoniacally hijacked
keys to the king's english translated commercial free,
by google translate, copy and paste, post any where free

for the taking seriously of peace, as thinkable, there free
where you are free to read these words and think peace

is beauty, peace is difficult to do right, first time, think

peace is mine, mine to take and make and use to think

peace can answer money one on one, enough, taken
owned as my own freedom to act and react, at will,

no programmed worth of me in mind needed, this
weform we read with in form of ready minds, this we

becomes, a hope of joy,
imagine, cune'if-orming a future prayerwardwiseused;

in time,
to let be a will seem
to slightly smile, and think,

we have this power,
at our fingertips, yet we think
nothing magic need not be known
to make us think
things unthinkable one long generation ago,
on Earth
this Earth, 2024 same air as yesterday, shared
now as
when Earth's rooms at night, were lit by fire, or not at all.

Children learned to sing in storms, this little light of mine…

old men in ever retold tales how come when and why the mix,

the ***** hair and freckles, and the Cajun Aunt Prudence, form
perfect for the buxum Jane Reynolds roles, Mansfield blondes
were all Viking vixens in the sack before the chase, let be

the wombed man in fantacy dreams, no words to say, so
it is as it was and shall forever be, we sowed seed of dreams…

we negotiated ways to so sow such seeds twice, Kudzo
will to grow food for any vegetable process, Kudzo it,

biodegradable to humus, the material us, realize it,
we eventually join the whole truth told tellers hell of a way

to get past worthlessness in the final stages of life, here,

we are enabled, to adjust, our window gazing time there

where thoughts are words, and backgrounds are soothing
contrast
with primary blues shading
to purple text, calm

we can all imagine, make an image, we all see text
we all can see
in this form
on this window we know we see

explain it
without god first you gotta know how
to read, and take hold, com pre hend, getagrip know how
to read,

and do it, using the tool
at hand, human augmented us, habit
hapitune apti'diditude
at finger tip tactual control, us
mouse control… yo go fingers. we know these
keys to make sense exchange abled worth using
letters letting sense be made, formed from material
patrimonal priesthoods make believed, form fecalforms

fertilizing unwanted breathers, hold that wind, when
we knew we knew we did not wish to be a *******.

cell structures wall bound too thick to imagine,
but, once, some earth bound souls did move mountains
over mountains to reach places children still believe if told,

the gods left us ruins
to remind us what we are not,
we are the manifested sons
of mankind, mixed tengendeep,

some
of us got neanderthal and denisovan grandmamas,

mammalian bubble
of us as a we
in a clear text logos mind form mere thought, what if

enjoyment
of a form
of human life, not simple, but one step
past simple is sublime, a state
of definable terms,

negotiable mind bonds, a we,
indeed, an awesome think thunk
to think we become once we can think we all know what I

mean, war is not a good occupation, hate is not a power source,

we think of love as lust in private, or so the entertainers are paid
to let us think, as we think of nothing but the body, holding time

prepaid, during adolescence, reading, while watching ditches fill,

Eli Wiesel Night,  
at fourteen I had freedom
of highway speed Honda 50's, because I worked,
and maybe some welfare was paid for me, or not,

but I had friends with Honda 50's
that's a we with some exclusivity, at the time,

known, it had been, there were drinkers
in my line.

I drank Vanilla extract shots, in sixth grade,
I stole 'm… yeah, in ever before, form now, dementia
experimentation using clear text voice from our shared

pasts, we must tune,
to who we thought we were, really, at the time,
all within you cries that's me, the guy piling pillows
in the princess and the pea/

now, look at me, I own more than I could think to ask,
and a dole enough to keep it working, so longs
or until there's a grand jubilee and all my peace,

blooms, and I imagine,
war is so stupid, can we not each despise it enough,

oi, to die for not doing  it, there's the martyr, all in, and yet
here is past all that, or you could not have read this far, yet.
Night,
I read that at 14, I remember the while, not the day.


To contemplate asking more in negotiation reasoning,
made weigh worth the time spent thinking,

by all means, all this was asking your opinions
in form, formal ag function, expansion

Encorporations, Liebling --

Ancient knowing, long sacred, hidden,
as with the legend of confused names,

Epimythiums accosting promethean bets,

day and night, eat  your heart out, free
from regrets, satisfied mind, okeh, free

to act as agent
for lady liberty, her post feudal self,

as discovered in a canyon, much the same
as Sha'gri La from story, Havasu Canyon,
as home of a boy I knew, whose grandfather

had made peace, with good intention,
to remain in Supai until the end of time,

then, there come the missionaries, guessing
Victory in Jesus would rouse the innocents
to repent for never having imagined Hell,

as sure as can be made believe,
by **** sapien innocents,

never led by setters free,
into known uses
of old Eber clan ever words,
otherwise, still, small, breather thinking ideas,

whims like what if this is that, and we ready,
readers like think as fast as we can write,
as if we have been taught to dance
as when we drum along and dance

in mindful memorizational motivational wills,
to live the story we form as our weform agrees,

these are the realms of spirits, these are words
enough for the wise in any situation, sent, willing

to breathe, and feel, the whole wind working bit,
the smoke you may use, indeed, see believing
work out a salve for that itching ear, feeling

we form on-demand, at hand, at touche', indeed,
doing done, done did get done, this away from that,

back to the future,
through common senses used,
globally translatable
with Google Translate, using

copy and paste
of encoded letting out of dogmen,
from another mindform mingled

with mine, shall we

imagine Ancestory.com as a technology needing a lie,
to make believers
in what DNA can prove today,

if we go back far enough,
we were masters or slaves, and masters knew,

what slaves were not at liberty
to know,

without former knowers telling, so

dystopia ontological negative hope,

the princess and the pea, and me,
the wildass idea,
in the vineyard,

as the a sunbeam purpled
in a cluster

carried me
in a reverie
of poetic grandeur

indeed, into the afterward, ward after last.
An act of art officially as intelligent as I imagine I might be if I were words/

— The End —