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CK Baker Jul 2018
through the streets and column cracks
culture weaves and summer smacks
sacred figures, holy shrine
monastery in grand design

cathedrals, convents, heaven’s stars
god of neptune, god of mars
doge’s palace, alley ways
gondolier on full display

winged lions on pastel breeze
cicada singing from the trees
pillar walk of saint mark's square
basilica in all its flare

crosses shade the carousel
a bridge of sigh that leads to hell
golden stairs on placid ridge
arches of rialto bridge

torcello! murano! grigio!
the countess rides the river poe!
sins of seven, fiery hides
poplars bank the levee side

black plague, attila the ***
eden formed before the sun
paradise above the marsh
high alter, gothic arch

middle age, religious wars
celestial fountains, marble floors
sculpted peacock, catholic faith
all is true the great god saith
PALAK-MAHROOM May 2017
Mahrumiyan rahengi sada kuchh bat ke
chalte,
Mukrehuve kuchh faisle-o-jazbat ke
chalte,
Daur ko jana tha wah berukh nikal gaya,
Baqee rahengi us ki jhalak ehsasat ke
chalte,
Aawam ki bari hai ab ye mujhpe hansega,
Bakhshi huwi lamhon ke sauggat ke
chalte,
Nigahon men basa karta tha jo ummeedon
ka jahan,
Sare simat chuke hain ab nuzlat ke
chalte,
Sunna hai mujhe sirf ab sunna hai sabhon
ko,
Taaib hai apne bas men khahishat ke
chalte,
Laut jata *** fir se kabhi us ujre chaman
men,
Kawish bhari zindgi-o-tasarrufat ke
chalte,
Sharm-sar-sa jiwan jiye kab talak koi,
Par jina hi parta hai, hayat ke chalte,
Ab jauon kahan door is halat  se ai PALAK,
Uljha huwa sa rahta *** is halat ke
chalte.
✮✮✮✮✮
Urdu poem in Roman fonts
PALAK-MAHROOM
Collins learns Jul 2018
2018                    05                   21
                    That day             my birthday
               May 21st  2018    22nd anniversary
      Me remember all as if it was yesterday's tale
     How someone , very important stranger then,
       sent me a b'day wish I still cherish to date.
        Thats how it was born a unity of reason,
           Between me and my love Diana Dee,
             The beauty paragon I much adore.
                   Bae ur voice in particular,
                      Makes my ears gyrate,
                        Both in sure unison,
                          I will love u ***,
                            without any
                               Conditi
                                 tion
                                   .
Kabhi apne aap ko bhoolti ***
Kabhi apne aap ko chunti ***
Bas dhundhti *** khud ko

Kabhi inn bikhre panno mein
Kabhi inme likhe lafzon mein
Padhti *** khud ko

Kabhi dhokha kha jane mein
Fir khud ko saza de jane mein
Maarti *** khud ko

Kabhi baarish ki awaz mein
Kabhi hawaon ki aahat mein
Dekhti *** khud ko

Kabhi bajte huwe piano mein
Kabhi gaano ke taraano mein
Sunti *** khud ko

Kabhi uski aankhon ke paani mein
Kabhi uski di hui zubani mein
Paati *** khud ko

Bas dhundhti *** khud ko
Bas dhundhti *** khud ko
Clara O Aug 2017
grådigt kaster den sig over søvnen,
søvnen, der agerer flugt fra dens stramme greb om vitaliteten.
den overskygger, overdøver, overdriver.
underminerer den fred,
som jeg først får lov til at smage på ved daggry.
og når den har konsumeret søvnen,
så plyndrer den videre.

den stjæler, suger, skræller.
plyndrer de resterende levn af pigen,
der engang var.
*** skal leve mens *** er ung!
men jeg lever ikke videre.
kun i spinkle fantasier om en fremtid,
eller i de magre håb,
der er lige så tynde,
som mine håndled er blevet
eller som hofteskålene der stikker ud
og giver mig kvalme
og minder mig om det hele
eller snarere det halve.
for den har været på plyndringstogt,
og har konsumeret pigen, der engang var
Cecilie Andersen Jun 2015
*** sang med på sange *** ikke kendte. Hendes mor sagde det var, fordi *** følte sig godt tilpas i mit selskab. Jeg børstede hendes krøllede hår igennem, for derefter at affarve det orange. Senere ødelagde *** hendes puder med sit blå-smittende hår. Du er min inspiration, du er den lyskæde på min hylde, som du engang fortalte mig om. Dine ord er smukke, meget smukkere end mine, men jeg gør hvad jeg kan, for det har du lært mig at gøre siden 11-års-alderen.
God ferie. Vil savne dig
PALAK-MAHROOM May 2017
Tumhin tum khyalon men aane lage **
Mujhe kyun divana banane lage **
Ab lagta nahin hai kahin bhi dil apna
Tumhin tum yadon men chhane lage **
Aane laga *** jo ab pas tere
Tum mujhi se door jane lage **
Jab uthne lagi hai nazar teri janib
Nigahon ko mujhse bachane lage **
Kya milta hai tujhko meri bekasi se
Hansa ke mujhe jo rulane lage **
Unhin pe fida hai ye dil ai PALAK ab
Jinhen pake tum gungunane lage **
✭✭✭✭✭
Urdu poem in Roman fonts
PALAK MAHROOM
Black sky with pale light compared to your beauty, Nothing is more right or worth a fight

Your smile looks so bright on this starry night
Tints of blues, wondering how are you?

She begins to stare and laugh into the air
Will my chances be forever there?

Her sparkling eyes as beautiful as a diamond in the sky
Why oh' why is your smile so close yet, so far...

My mouth reaches for her from afar through the distance of the bar

Your smile goes up towards the moonlight,
Your heart goes towards the sun
My thought go towards my ***'
You’ve won
I found a girl in class with an interesting bright smile. I wonder how she can smile like that? Should I ask? (I hope for her sake its reality.)
llcb Jul 2016
*** bragte  regn, men han så bare regnbuen.
cecilie hviid Oct 2017
jeg faldt engang for en kvinde
ikke på den der forelskede måde
mere bare i form af en dyb fascination
i tre år agerede *** støttehjul
og så pludselig
flyttede *** ud i periferien af mit liv
fik sådan lidt en post-fascinations-depression
og brugte yderligere tre år på at forsøge
at finde hendes dobbeltgænger
det lykkedes ikke
da jeg endelig havde sluttet fred
med fraværet af hende i mit liv
dukkede *** op og sagde alle mulige smukke ting
*** er det bål man hælder hundrede liter vand på
men som alligevel
blusser op igen og brænder skoven ned
og jeg ved ikke om jeg skal lægge
mit hoved på hendes skulder, fortælle hende
at *** har reddet mit liv mindst én gang
eller bare drikke kaffe
og snakke om vejret
Umi Dec 2017
I gently ask to see your loving gaze
So that it can set my calm soul ablaze
Yes, you're cheering me up in such simple ways!

True love unfolds like a rose
Which you expose, to the delicate morning light

And even if you say, you don't want a blazing sun...But a twinkling sttar...
Can't you see that I am a star which radiating its light just for you ?
So ***, see through the burning rays of my love
And shine...
This is one of the wishes of mine ~ ♡

~ Umi
Trcfour Sep 2014
A man he wrote the book
A book for all and none
About a life spent leaning
Leaning towards the sun

In search of all - a greatness 
His life a distant run
A battle for a giant
He reaches for the sun

On a field of giants
Merely flesh and blood
He disregards the mismatch
And stretches for the sun

Life the fiercest battle
A war that’s never won
Commits his life to reaching
Reaching for the sun

He asks the aged pastor    
Disillusioned as the nun
Confides in self & marches on
Onward towards the sun

Saw life and fortune a lady
Took a chance with love
Traded breast and beauty
Traded it for the sun

His only life - a sacrifice
A gamble for a goal
With faith & strength he pushes on
He strains his empty soul

Tried to be a good man
Emulates Christ the son
Grounded broken wings he *****
Tragically towards the sun

To advance the course of history
Alexander, Caesar, the ***
A martyr for the western world
He reaches for the sun

To hold the mighty leviathan
With great to catch a cod
Born with a head of a  *******
He aspires to be a god

And oh his quest does beckon
Failure certain done
What else can he do
He reaches for the sun

To god he clings his anchor
Sworn service to God and Son
Hopelessly he learns
Leaning towards the son
Drafted September 1990
Daan Vandelay Apr 22
Ze deden het al voor de letters,
voor op *** tijd.
Men noemde ze ketters,
het was schijnbaar in strijd
met alles wat ze kenden, wisten,
zonder te weten dat ze zich vergisten.
Zalig de onwetenden
Conor Martin Mar 2017
Symphony of Silence throughout the night
Doors and windows latched and locked tight
Sleeping softly as dreams ******
Troubled times when morals where subdued

We’re shoulder to shoulder with the **** or the ***,
Look at themn's with the same eyes, not down the barrel of a gun
The pasts only purpose now, Make the blind clearly see
The mistakes they made with their ******’ corrupt legacy

It’s quiet in the cities cobbled streets, the birds pick at first light
Emerge from their nests, Like our generation glimpses first sight
The new formed world from the rubble of this war
No emblem or flag can heal wounds this vicious or raw
Brick by Brick, The walls of Peace rose to keep in hate
There’s no more guerrillas in the street, Only as heads of State

The Family divided, A Birds clipped wing
This Island, Our home,
Shared together
or
Squandered Alone
The North is quite simply, The most politically and culturally frustrating place to live in, Beyond people feeling so self entitled believing that their culture is better than anyone else's we are cannon fodder to the representatives who regularly pit one side against the other in order to enhance personal and political agenda, Do not read this believing that one side is more or less guilty than the other. Both sides of the co-existing divide are guilty of things beyond the comprehension of the wider population.
I Wrote this in one of my moments of frustration.
A Henslo Feb 2018
Ik merk op: “De maan die minnelijke Don Juan!
Of wellicht (ik geef toe, erg straf)
Is het de luchtballon van Pape Jan
Of een dwaallicht waarnaar wij turen
Om arme zielen *** bos in te sturen.”
     Zij zegt: “U dwaalt wel erg af!”

En ik weer: “Iemand ontlokt aan het toetsenbord
Die gevoelige nocturne, muziek met het vizier
Op nacht en maneschijn, die vaak gebezigd wordt
Om de eigen leegheid vorm te geven.”
     Zegt zij: “Sloeg dat misschien op mij, zo-even?”
     “O nee, ik ben de leeghoofd hier.”

“Gij zijt, mevrouw, een ware grapjapon,
Van hyperbolen nooit gehoord,
Voor dolende gevoelens geen pardon!
Met uw hulp nuchter en rigoureus
Wordt malle lyriek in de kiem gesmoord––”
      En–– “Moet alles echt zo serieus?“
English Dutch transposition A. Henslo 2017
Original text by T.S. Eliot (1920):

CONVERSATION GALANTE

I observe: “Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)    
It may be Prester John’s balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travelers to their distress.
  She then: “How you digress!”

And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys    
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain  
The night and moonshine; music which we seize  
To body forth our own vacuity.”
  She then: “Does this refer to me?”    
  “Oh no, it is I who am inane.”    

“You, madam, are the eternal humorist,
The eternal enemy of the absolute,  
Giving our vagrant moods the slightest twist!
With your aid indifferent and imperious
At a stroke our mad poetics to confute—”    
  And—“Are we then so serious?”
Marigolds Fever Aug 2018
R u takin time
to see some beauty
in that flower
hug ur friend hello
R  u takin time
Just to care for one another
Did u remember ur mother
or even a lover
Did u take time today
just to be there
Time Rushin by
Its Rushin by
Do u remember
to be so little
U had all the world’s time
How does it feel now
to not care to hear
an I’m doing fine.
Im doing fine
Ur Rushin by
Ur takin time
Doing all that digital mayhem
Do remember a time
before all this
To be in complete bliss
Don’t forget ur time is
rushin by
Its rushin by
It’s Takin time
R u takin time to be there
Went by the old high school
Stopped in
to see those old teachers
One was cryin
One was still teachin
Tears flowing from the eyes
Words ringin true
Tellin me Things are not the same
There’s dust on these desks
Said how are you doin ***
What you do
I said I’m real successful now
I got all the best
He said yeah thats great
But are you taking time
Taking time....
...to be there
Takin time...
to Be where u need.
Author note: this poem was written to be a song. However, because it has been liked it has remained public.
Just to hear you
say my name...
Just to hear you
call me Babe,
Baby, or Honey...
Just to be close
to you and
feel your body heat...
Just to smell your
'only you' scent...
And oh-
Just to feel
these tingles,
then I get the shivers...
Just to feel
this heat all through me-
this fire in me,
that hasn't fully gone out...
Just to close my eyes
and see when it was
you and I,
not too long ago...
Just to have you
touch or caress me
in a non-friendly way...
Just to have
these wants of
you and I,
always so close to the surface,
but still from deep inside of me...
Just to think
what you keep
awakening in me-
over and over
or yet, every now and then...
Just to have this want
in me that has
never died away...
And knowing you
still feel something
for me-
And then
Just to wonder
how your lips would feel on mine-
if you took me
in a kiss...
Just to wonder
how you'd feel
in my arms...
Just to wonder
how I'd feel
in yours...
Just to wonder
how you'd feel
against me,
up close to me-
as close as two could be...
Just to have us
crossing back over
that thin line of friendship
time and time again...
Just to feel this
built up tension
going on between us...
Just to realize
how close we've
almost been...
Just to think
how much
I'd want to...
Oh why, ***,
do you still make me
feel these ways...
Knowing you don't
quite want
what I so want-
Oh what I could give to you-
Therefore, I can't have
you ever as mine!

2007


COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
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