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Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
We travel carrying our words.
We arrive at the ocean.
With our words we are able to speak
of the sounds of thunderous waves.
We speak of how majestic it is,
of the ocean power that gifts us songs.
We sing of our respect
and call it our relative.

Translated into English from O’odham by the poet.

’U’a g T-ñi’okı˘

T-ñi’okı˘ ’att ’an o ’u’akc o hihi
Am ka:ck wui dada.
S-ap ‘am o ’a: mo has ma:s g kiod.
mat ’am ’ed.a betank ’i-gei.
’Am o ’a: mo he’es ’i-ge’ej,
mo hascu wud.  i:da gewkdagaj
mac ’ab amjed.  behě g ñe’i.
Hemhoa s-ap ‘am o ’a: mac si has elid, mo d.  ’i:mig.
I was looking through some of my computer files and came across this. I have no idea where or how I originally found it and actually didn't even remember it. But I like it and thought I'd share it. :-)
“Why do you say things without thinking,
Words hurt too.
But you obviously don’t get it,
Because nobody is mean to you.
Everything you say can be like a knife through someones heart.
Think of what you say before you’re the reason somebody’s falling apart.”
Princess Iraira Mar 2014
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Meh Oct 2017
hahaha! the funnymen!

if you shell only listen to his word... he turns insane to real, and real into absurd!

hohoho! the funnymen!

his mouth is cold and deadly, and his words are pitch dark black... he will mess with your reality, and make your perception to a wreck!

a rabbit hole inside a rabbit hole inside your mind begins to form, he messes up your common sense and challenges your norm!

hihihi! the funnymen!

behind the complexity and themes... theres something rather strange, happiness he brings... "haha! hihi! hoho!" he does not give us comfort, but joy and new perspective, he can make us laugh because he makes us more reflective, you dont have to be a big fan.... to appreciate the mark of the funnymen.
Surya Kurniawan Oct 2017
Komedi yang kamu sukai
Haha hihi hangat ironi
Satir paling getir diantara syair-syair
Yang gamang dan anyir
Ayat paling menyayat diantara nubuat-nubuat
Kala nanti kamu dibaiat

Di halaman, mengepul gelembung
Berisi suara, jerit menderit
Masygul berlarat-larat
Sunyi senyap, tak berharap tertangkap
Seloroh yang kerap kau kudap

Tragis, tentu saja
Pantas, hatimu melecur
Panas cerita yang kau ulur
Mampukah dikebiri?
Jangan-jangan kamu puas melacur
Mengangkangi memori yang hancur
Kesana kemari
Menjilat rupa tak terhingga
Menggigil dalam persona mempesona

Tak seperti banyak cerita
Kamu hanya memamah hampa
Tiada terkira
Hingga kamu
Lupa cara bahagia
Semua jalan setapak akan bercabang, lama atau singkat, gema maupun lekat.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2017
lieutenant sticks, that's what they called him,
kij denotes a stick, without confusion
the emphasis of an olé (diacritical marks
are punctuations in punctuation) -
russians love to read, so you begin writing for
russians... a bit simple...
               i know they will one day approve
diacritical marks for the j, and depose the dot
above it like a halo...
  so i then get to say: key-jay....
           unitl that day happens i won't be found
playing the piano, able to read the notes
of a composition...
          nor draw blood from my fingers when
allowing myself the second thought of chess...
but some day along this carpe diem expansion
i will say: that day i took l.s.d.,
          and also that memory of 1950s
technicolor films made all the more sense...
       and it really was that saturation of colour,
the original saturation of colour translated onto screen...
like fake-tan orange of essex,
                  i'm about to juggle watermelons: wee!
productive sarcasm or even counter-productive sarcasm
never really sticks to a frying-pan of salivated over
pancakes readied for breakfast or some hereafter...
slobber gusto is not exactly a case of Pavlov's...
nor is reading a sunday newspaper...
               i can only think of a "metaphor" of walking
the dog in an english park and picking up
its ****... so much so for agonising myself reading
a newspaper... so i guess i now get to write the word
similie, in italics preceded by the colon heresy and not
reaching for the b, i.e.: italics.
when did i become so twitchy and double pardon
a concern for appreciating the comment?
last time i read jane eyre and started thinking about
that madwoman in the attic, that was rochester's
first wife... about that time...
      unlike that case of being a "poet" and writing
a scenario, i feel no guilt over these compositions,
   why did bukowski have the c.i.a. onto him and not
the f.b.i.?
                could you tell me if he was a spy?
oh look... a tumbleweed moment...
                             so i was talking to these two drunks
in this shady place at night
  and just blah blah blah later we exchanged
ethnic content, and one said he lived in
birmingham for a while, that place where ozzy
came from... and it's not like they even call
that city a "venice of the west", or a "st. petersburg of the west",
just as well... they twinned the town of
grimsby to chernobyl...
        they have edinburgh the "athens of the north",
they have amsterdam, the "venice of the north"...
and then you get birmingham,
and it could apply for a romance from somone,
like the venice of north-west... north by north west...
i'm not ignorant because of copernicus:
just a little bit disorientated trying to translate
sign-language from chinese ideograms...
   the idea was: ching chang walla(h)...
               extend that and you have imitations of dolly,
oh... finding dory...
   or... when in suffering, make a comedy...
like that pain adoolf hihi-tler felt watching a charlie
chaplin movie and saying: that moustache gig
is going to conquer the world.
   so where was i?
                   if you build a labyrinth you're bound
to ask the question of where you are?
     ah right, heading for the mortality exit...
concentrating on some word that would make no sense
to the average cognitive tactic of narration...
                 kije! - yep, sticks, that's the plural
version of kij, which just means stick...
    i really want to put a macron over that j
      so people don't confuse yahweh with jesus
   or add fractions to the concept...
or what the ancient greeks did, i.e. doing the dumbest
thing possible of sub-humanising the jews...
             suddenly Y                              is very far
from
                                                                             J
via gamma...       was that me trying to
  turn the tongue into a saxophone of cool?
  is that word even as half relevant these days as disco?
or is that when good becomes "evil"
   and evil becomes "good" and we call
                          a nightclub a slaughterhouse?
"   " aside... you don't get to play the existentialists
when it comes to words like list from
   the thesaurus (rex) beginning with the word red...
  the book states the "ambiguity"
                     via its synonym basis: crimson, burgundy...
red... rose...
or as kant would put it: we need the categorical
imperative, not to be "good", but to make
clear distinctions...
               and what a sad sad affair that has become,
when having looked for all the facts,
we became stunted and now argue with
what is the chiral (evidently opposite of facts) statements;
so they had genes and so they came up with memes...
facts need the opposite unit for them to be
the much needed resource...
              i guess i can't "coin a phrase" working
on this angle... because a word already exists to counter
factual expressions... you posit the chiral version
of facts on the word...                 factoid.
ATW and RBM Jan 2020
This is now a shared account with my super duperrrrrrrrrr cool girlfriend RBM. She got her account taken away so we're gonna share. hehe

-ATW
Daan Nov 2020
Kijk, wij zijn wijn-
drinkers, bedorven
stinkers met grote glazen
en kleine hoofden.

Ik zie dubbel
zoveel losers met
een wijndrinkbrevet
op het internet.

Hihi, slimme mensen drinken wijn.
Dan zullen wij, girl, vast wel super slim zijn.
En nier vergeten uit te spuwen.
Hihi!...hihihi!
I am a witch
And I’m a creature of the night
I can make you a sandwich
Here! Take a bite!

Hur!...hur!...hur!...hur!...hur!
I am an ogre
And I’m a creature of the night
I can tear you asunder
Will you dare me a fight?

Hehe!...hehe!...he!
I am an elf
And I’m a creature of the night
Watch your step
Or I’ll take away your sight!

Huhuhuhuhuh!
I am a vampire
And I’m a creature of the night
Your blood is my desire
I wanna hold you tight!

Haah…aah…aah…
I am a banshee
And I’m a creature of the night
Come on, sing with me
To the grave be frozen with fright!

Awooh…wooh…wooh!
I am a werewolf! Woof!...Woof!
And I’m a creature of the night
Look at the top of your roof!...Woof!...Woof!
I’ve just hopped…Now, I’m on your right!

Brains…brains…brains…brains…brains!
I am a zombie
And I’m a creature of the night
I am coming to munch thee
Now run with all your might!

-03/10/2012
(Dumarao)
*created for English 413 under Dr. Minnie P. Chan
My Poem No. 100
Something to treasure and fight to have!
Hah! The great life I had!
Something to be grateful for...
Still.... Why wouldn't one go back there?

Hihi! The great life I had!
Something to literally **** for!
Still, why wouldn't I bother for all that anymore?

Hah! I'm dead and have moved on!
Not killing myself for crap anymore.
This must be treated as a reflection of redirected (glowing?) Feathers.
As "What my Feathers...?!" is a better more elegant option!

— The End —