Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
martin May 2013
We went to the woods for a picnic
That girl was such a nitwit
She promised a lot
But all I got
Was a peck on the cheek and a biscuit

Her parents went to Rhyll
To me that sounded brill
I went to her place
All prepared (just in case)
And fed the budgie some trill

I said I've fallen for ya
Let's cuddle in the corner
She said that's nice
But tonight I might
Practise my recorder

She said it's good to share
I said I'm with you there
Then I was led
To a single bed
And loaned a teddy bear

I did my best to please her
But she was just a teaser
My money spent
My patience went
So it was time to leave her
kel Sep 28
the clock ticks and ticks
it's 12am right now-
a time where my icks
are nonexistent as i dive
into my deep thoughts
i feel kinda alive
but also half dead with exhaustion
with my study materials sitting
on my desk.
my brows are furrowed;
my lips are pressed;
it's a never ending cycle.
one that is vicious.
MetaVerse Jul 24
There was an Old Man of Japan
Whose lim-er-icks never would scan.
     When they said, "What the fu?"
     He replied, "They're haiku!"
That Irish Old Man of Japan.


Mateuš Conrad Feb 2018
re: DEΔD: 125 scientists 75 bankers 3 journalists 24 HOURS video.

i actually don't mind listening to people
reading, esp. not someone like
   james munder:
            the author of this video on youtube...
perhaps me imaging
                     cuddling a panda is out
the question,
                   but it's not the "mistakes" he makes
that even remotely "bother" me...
             the interjection of apology is,
well, cute?
                       then again, he is bound
to reading something written poorly...
                i wonder what
     diacritical mark application
                   would do to such a reader...
   e.g. sam gyimah...
                   would gýīma(h) fair better?
          grave, jet, yet...
   guy-ma(h)...
                       tongue tied or
   simply: well, we won't built a wall,
   we'll ensure everyone is "literate",
    but we won't build a wall,
     just words that might as well be spelling
mistakes, or words that require
   another person to have said it, a priori
   (prior to a unique mimic event)
      and then... you get the english
suburban labyrinth.
                       another example from the video:
dr. anne, szarewski...
          the usual "argument" of the anglophone
is that slavic languages have
"too many" consonants...
              well, you can rewrite that word
and put it back into the pedantry
of what's the anglophone ontology
                    of language...
    either dyslexia, or memory erosion
with no clear syllable structures
   due to missing diacritical mark application...
                            SHA-RE'VSKI      
i'm not a ******* linguist on the matter
but studying lingua abstractum
                  as any linguist might...
    i.e. [dik-shuh-ner-ee]  | /ˈdɪkʃənərɪ; -ʃənrɪ/ ...
this is the part where a bilingual
comes in and, has not a gram worth
of gloat in a crowd of polyglots...
                  you noticed how lazy
the linguists have become?
                   no diacritical marks in sight in
their little: attempting to be a mathematicians...
what's that? ʃdy/dx?
                                       you're talking
calculus?!
                    sure, you could pull off
   d(icks) i.e. an S with one in
                             *****-shou-nerry...
               or have to remember: dictionary.
  i still find the english language
   to be constructed without clear syllable
autopsy...
          and why should i write like this
given computer language is just
as complicated?
                      well, if that language is not
going to get any easier,
      my use of english will not, either!
i still haven't heard of a dyslexic poe-lack
          (******);
                     another example though:
[thi-sawr-uh s]     |    /θɪˈsɔːrəs/
      FE, FE thesaurus!
                  any diacritical marks in
  that intellectual shambo?
              (shambo? back in the day,
in the countryside, before urban sewage
systems... people used to dig a massive hole
in a field, and then bury their **** in it.
            that depiction is probably
the worst attempt at writing music...
or language... the ancient egyptians
  are laughing right now,
    shouting: hey! give 'em the rosetta stone
to boot!
             nonetheless,
   listening to james munder
                  i still think about hugging a panda;
sometimes a man can really have:
an appealing american accent...
                most of the time:
     you just feel like throwing an english
          toff into the couldron to **** people off.
Patrick Kennon Jul 2019
Another **** cigarette, feeling so wet
Caught in a net, Gladiator's last breath
Tridents and dents in your new car
Near, far, doesnt matter
Brain matter, grey spatter, 5.56
Pick up sticks, count ya licks
Feeling the icks, throw up tricks
Different clicks, different hips
Moving close, open up, close lips
Brand new rose, toes on sand
Feeling like a brand new man
Got nothing to put in a rubber band
Earn my meals with my right hand
Fog and smog and bog down
Pill down pharmaceutical pantyhose
Purple, the color purple, royal purple
Jalapenos and hot sauce on ya waffles
Syrup hot
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2021
i guess i'll forever be in love with the English weather... i adore the gloom... it mutes my heart: it allows me to focus on all the little miseries that make me... happy... however paradoxical it might sound: i find happiness in melancholy... it's such a refreshing escapade: realising the subtle metaphysics of gravity... i'm dragged down... never disappointed... from time to time... either giggling or smirking in a public place... but the weather... overcast... dreary... monotone... it's not the Faroe Isles... but... close... even in the heartland like Essex... Loon'don... plus... the people have conjured up a magical amber juice... herr schnurrhaare und fräulein bernstein... i love to drink more than i love to ****... come to think of it... i love to ****... but... i much prefer a solo drinking ****... preferably with today's newspaper... before noon... fasting... it clears the 'ed... and makes: the word HAY... sound... mmm... ******* tremendous! almost... "vibrating"... even though... the hasn't been a TRILL on the R around these parts for some time... perhaps somewhere in... Scoot-land... ah! never mind!

i will not make any, any(!) concessions to morality
with thought...
spin the narrative(s)... wander off: i will...
feeding into a detached mind-body duality:
feed the automaton...
call my ego a parasite... my inner voice
a plucked eye of a cyclops!
demeaning frailty: hidden rot of man...
        i will not make any concessions to morality
with thought: i will no churn out
thought to be:
   ought i?!
                             i'll break upon the freedoms
i so wish... but i'll break with: panache
come to think of "it"...
i can understand the authenticity of work...
i'll go a step further...
i probably have three maxims i utilize...
a Tao (version) of aiding the world by allowing
the world to forget you...
the Alexandre Dumas: the best advice
one can give is... to not give advice...
and the third?
controversial... but... without the sadistic irony
implied by the original...
truly! arbeit macht frei...
- was i expecting to be saved by... adjectives?
only in the anglo-lingo-sphere
is Darwinism so... infectious...
   i get it... i truly do... but... it's not some...
all-encompassing release form...
Darwinism to me is a pet-peeve...
a bit like Marxism...
        Darwinism explains all!
                   i'm tired of it: i'm tired of people
perpetuating it to the point that
they themselves become: two-dimensional...
it's the oblivion of obviousness that
bothers me... there's no room for...
ahem... "poetry"... NUANCE...
for starters Darwinism: as a tool of history is...
his story?! not mine...
i much prefer etymology as the safety net of
"measuring" time... or no time...
Darwinism is all form all... cubism...
morphed monkeys suited in tuxedos...
spot the albino...
it's... too... concise...
yes everything has a purpose...
yes... almost seamlessly: like no strings were
attached... floating in: and as the ether...
condescending into a make-shift: solid...
Darwinism doesn't care about language...
it's popular among English speakers...
Copernicus was popular among the Polacks...
these days they just reference him...
Copernicus: concise...
he stopped the sun and moved the earth...
what can be said... likewise...
proverbial... about... Darwin?
he... shot the money and woke the man?!
ah... awoke the man?
he... stopped pickling brains and
spines in transit to make... giraffes?!

i'm perplexed by the company of my bonsai
tiger: maine ****...
why would a cat... require my ******* company?
i'm a drunkard nobody!

sonny rollins... saxophone colossus... when
guys had... STYLE...
i could listen to jazz to escape the European
claustrophobia of classical music...
music written by men who couldn't...
*******... whistle!
all-cerebral music... notation bound...
technical... jazz had something...
and then... whish! spoof!
like the Vikings... gone in a flash...
a span of... i'll be generous... 50... years?!
i... abhor... rap...

i can understand work: digging two hoiles
in the ground... experiencing gravity unlike
any astronaut might: properly grounded...
******* gravity....
making new comes for:
hortencje: hortensia(s):
*******... hydrangea (orator)...

knee-grow... grow a knee?
must be one of those anglo-saxon fetishes:
to appease their women...
those mythological blondes...
their women... their women...
apparently up north any ****-
-stani will be eagerly ******...
such a waste of 6ft tall fuckable Ottis-ready-for-it...
not reading...

my my what a custard worth of thighs...
my my what a custard worth of thighs...
knee-growing any bigger from the last time
i inspected the phonetic joke?!

ride a bicycle drunk:
take up any truck load like one might be
a David vs. a Goliath...
immemorable Saturday:
pseudo... oh look... the afternoon just
passed by...

truly... a swig of whiskey into a cup
of black coffee overwhelms any concern to
use cream..

- why i love fasting...
empty one's self long enough...
the sugar levels drop...
ingesting anything after enough time becomes...
an agony... one becomes a Boa...
constrictor...
i'm... digesting while at the same time being
summoned by: constipation...

i'm buzzing with drunk
but it's not even noon...
but who knows... what's the supposed hour..
on these isles...
best i take the ol' rover for a spin
on the streets...
no... this one time: i'll wait it out..

pickle slow: on the sour... grotesque...
sobering... sombre-ing...
laugh with defiance!
  ******* yourself with tears...
sketch a concept: not a diamond...
but a concept of:
synonymous with what's rain:
at night!

-among these... island... dwelling... folk...
i love... the Scots... the most...
don't ask me why... how?!
they retained their Trill of the R: for starters...
they were: they wear... are...
grrr... SKYRTS!
tartan, *******... 'icks!
i ought to love the Velsh more... since...
they still have, their own tongue...
but nay... nay...

i love these people because....
they seem to be: people...
i love the Scoots because...
it's 13:00 oh: clock and i'm
drunk dishing out sabers... drunk...
i'll wait for the night to riddle
a bicycle... sober...
brothel... tonight?
not just yet...
i'm tired of watching all those 1% nymphomaniacs
getting the proper treatment...
i'm tired of politicians lying too...
but... seeing how these nymphomaniac
women are looking for ulterior
holes to fill...
transgressing **** wasn't even
starters...
the cat will sleep on the bed...
i'll take a snooze on the floor... savvy?!
i said... savvy?!
i'll do my round-about
drunken sailor on a bicycle "trick" some time...
later... savvy?!

- binoculars... testicles... sandpaper... grit: proof...
binoculars... testicles...
mirror... glass... air and still lake water...
binoculars... testicles... sandpaper... proof!
mirror! mirror! get me a:
mirror... or a... Agnolo Bronzino's...
Venus, Cupid, Folly & Time...
i'll ******* to that...
reinterpretation of "lips":
behind a NIQAB... like... a cat gets
to growl... or lion: yawn... or...
or... the ****'s wrong with you?!

a cat is sleeping in my bed while i
decide to sleep on the... ******* floor...
why?! because i'm Hindu but
i still enjoy some beef...
i.e. i believe in the superficial superiority
of animals... cats... dogs...
mostly cats since: i don't have
to equip myself with a leash...
HOW TO MAKE THE RIGHT DECISION AT THE RIGHT TIME

the clock shaves off
another bit of time
tick by tick by tick

it doesn't give a tock
a patina of time
covers the dusty ornaments

the eaves drip
Nature's clock
I measure time

by how long it takes
the cuckoo's voice
to travel

from the background
to the foreground of this
storm tossed morning

I feel myself as if I am
the personal measurement
of boredom

a fly lands
on a bishop's mitre
washes its hands

assiduously
then buzzes off
in case it catches religion

the chess pieces
resume
their silences

I feel like a female mammoth
frozen
in a block of ice

Time refuses
to move on
sti...sti...ICKS

my husband
plays chess
with himself

can never tell whether
he's winning or losing
"I'm a Gemini..!"

he explains.
like duh
"I'm just a poor little Cancer!"

he is beating
himself up
about beating himself

I watch him move from
one side of the table to
the other

like a Buster Keaton movie
an eyelid twitches but
is instantly repressed

the eyebrow
about to be
raised...instantly isn't

he is a bad loser
even
to himself

a hand raises a King
and a Queen
is taken

his lips
a taut straight line
displays no emotion

I am only wearing
a thong
getting goosebumps

I chew a Swano 4906
bitten to shreds
"Five...I said...five letters!"

loudly just to annoy him
beginning with an O and
ending with OP

"Stowed cables
below water line!"
what kind of clue is that!

I haven't got a clue
"Harold honey!"
I yell

"Orlop!"
he grunts
"Orlop deck!"

never taking his eye off
of his other self
watching his every move

"Who would have
thought..."
I think to myself

"That *** and money
could become so
boring!"

a pillowcase on the line
***** for help
it has lost a peg

holding on by a peg
the wind makes it pregnant
its belly billows

it swells
and takes off
like a ship setting sail

jumps over the wall
chasing its own
horizon

"Me an' all!"
I thank it
for the tip

decide to leave
Harold honey
by Tuesday...at the latest

calculus battle clue 6 down
“tanquam ex ungue leonem”
N E W T O N I fill it in - done it
Donall Dempsey Apr 2020
HOW TO MAKE THE RIGHT DECISION AT THE RIGHT TIME

The clock shaves off
another bit of time

tick by tick by tick
it doesn't give a tock.

A patina of time
covers the dusty ornaments.

The eaves drip.
Nature's clock.

I measure time
by how long it takes

the cuckoo's voice
to travel

from the background
to the foreground

of this storm
tossed morning.

I feel myself as
if I am

the personal measurement
of boredom.

A fly lands
on a bishop's mitre.

Washes its hands
assiduously.

Then buzzes off
in case it catches religion.

The chess pieces
resume their silences.

I feel like a female mammoth
frozen in a block of ice.

Time refuses to move on
sti...sti...ICKS.

My husband plays chess
with himself.

Can never tell whether
he's winning or losing.

"I'm a Gemini..!"
he explains.

Like duh.
"I'm just a poor little Cancer!"

He is beating himself up
about beating himself.

I watch him move from
one side of the table to

the other
like a Buster Keaton movie.

An eyelid twitches but
is instantly repressed.

The eyebrow about to be
raised...instantly isn't,

He is a bad loser.
Even to himself.

A hand raises a King
and a Queen is taken.

His lips
a taut straight line.

I am only wearing a thong.
Getting goosebumps.

I chew a Swano 4906.
Bitten to shreds.

"Five...I said...five letters!"
Loudly just to annoy him

Beginning with an O and
ending with OP.

"Stowed cables
below water line!"

What kind of clue is that!
I haven't got a clue.

"Harold honey!"
I yell.

"Orlop!"
he grunts.
"Orlop deck!"

Never taking his eye off
of his other self.

"Who would have thought..."
I think to myself.

"That *** and money
could become boring!"

A pillowcase on the line
***** for help.

It has lost a peg
Holding on by a peg.

The wind makes it pregnant.
Its belly billows.

It swells and takes off
like a ship setting sail.

Jumps over the wall
chasing an horizon.

"Me an' all!"
I thank it for the tip.

Decide to leave
Harold honey

by Tuesday
at the latest.

— The End —