Utopia

I use to always stare at the sky, mostly at night. That's when you can see all of the stars. I'd go up in the roof and I'd bring a blanket along with a pillow. I'd just lay up there gazing, dreaming and above all wishing maybe I could be a star. As if I could fly to the universe; a child's dream that I still hold deep within my heart. What I lack is courage, braveness. My dream is not to bestow negativity upon the world, but to release boundless freedom. The story 'Utopia' is about a magical dimension that only exist in an area of dis-pear. An area where blackness feeds on itself; creating a hole so massive and so magnetic, not even light can escape its eternal fate. It is said that the only way into Utopia is through the galactic lane. It shall open to you in your deepest time of need. But don't be scared; after all it's only a myth. A myth that I myself have been intensively trying to accumulate. What's fact and what's real is only an illusion through the eyes of disbelief. A timeless puzzle that has no end. A scattered dream that's like a far off memory. A far off memory that's like a scattered dream. I want to align the pieces up; Yours and mine.

It can be quite daunting at first to start something new. However, all you really need is the right kind of attitude. The open-minded approach to tackle problems as they come along. My biggest fear, however, remains being afraid of not finishing what I have started and dropping things half-way through as soon as the going gets tough. I admit that this problem of mine has been present all the way throughout my life. I'm quite quick on the uptake and get really intense about something and then somewhere along the line I get side-tracked and drop things altogether.
    The saying "easy come - easy go" could never be more true for me. Having said that, I know that everyone has encountered this exact same problem at one time or the other, so the grass always looks greener on the other side despite the fact that it's often painted.
    The ease with which I get a head start compared to other people has been both a blessing and in a way a curse. But I shouldn't seek excuses when it is quite clear that I lack the motivation, perseverance and the self-discipline to soldier on after I finish the first lap. To put things into perspective I am like a competitor at a 5000m race challenging the title again and again. It brings me endless joy being able to participate and more often than not I am the one who sets the pace, however half way through the race fatigue sets in and I gradually lose the built-up momentum. Seeing that, competitors overtake me left and right. Eventually, I lose the heart to continue and end up finishing last or dropping out of the race.
    I keep wondering; perhaps the secret to success in not starting strong, but being consistent and preparing yourself mentally for that finally straight line when all your arduous training pays off and you still have some firepower left in you to give it your all. Not only what you can do, but edging slightly outside or your own limits, be it mental or physical, that keep holding you back you outmanoeuvre your own shadow.

     The other problem of mine is that I rarely practice what I preach. I like to reflect and analyse, and can pin-point fairly accurately the inner demons that have been plaguing and dulling my senses, but comes next day – and I succumb to them once more. Lately though, I feel like I am eradicating them one by one, but I shouldn’t rest on my laurels.
      For example, over the last five years I have discontinued playing guitar and then picked it up again countless of times. I would intensively practise for days, sometimes weeks, professing my love for music and then give up on it at a drop of a hat. With distractions and novelties larger than life, it is getting harder and harder to ignore them and go about our own business as we did before. They are like irresistible mythical modern-day sirens lulling us into a trance-like state of comfort and false sense of security. “Forget all your problems and let go of your worries, sweetie. We will take care of it all now”, whisper the sirens as their bodies become entangled with ours and for a split second we can feel the weight of our shoulders starting to disappear. Split second is all it takes t avert our eyes from things that truly matter and before you know it - we are neck-deep in this fairy land.
     Once we snap out of it, a sense of helplessness engulfs us mixed with guilt for wasting so much time. Without further a due, we seek out a new distraction that can preoccupy our thoughts, so that we can feel on top of the world once again. As a result, a new form of escapism is born where we dig endless tunnels; not to escape into the real world, but as far away from it as is humanly possible. Much like the prisoners, we are just as creative in finding means to escape and evade hardship. Therefore, we are effectively prisoners of our own minds rationalizing our every wrong-doing up until there is no inner voice to question it any longer. By then, the ritual of “switching off the real world” is hard-wired to our neurological pathways and over time it becomes second nature.

Edna's Special Recipes No. 4:

"Le pit bull à la français"

By Edna

At this festive time of year, why be boring and choose a turkey? Especially since the poor creatures have been reared intensively, overfed and fattened artificially, kept in a cage or in a filthy shed, never having seen the sunshine.

So Edna says: offer your family something rather different this Christmas, something a little unusual.  Had you ever considered an American Pit Bull Terrier?  A Pittie may not be the first thing which springs to mind for Christmas dinner and I admit there are some drawbacks: they are difficult to get hold of: neighbours' pets are a dangerous option and modern intensive Pittie-farming methods don't work as the brutes are far too savage for most farmhands; also they have relatively little meat on them, being mainly muscle and hatred. However, these negatives are offset by the joy any fun-loving chef will gain from killing the ******* and you, as hostess, will bask in the happiness of your family as they contemplate what they are about to receive.

First, it is important only to use a FRESHLY killed mutt as Pit Bulls do not freeze well (they struggle and bark for what seems ages once shoved into the freezer) and the pre-packed, pre-gutted ones you will find in your local supermarket are likely to have been battery-reared and force-fed in order to put a bit of extra flesh on. Believe me, nothing quite matches the texture of a freshly killed Pittie. And of course, you get the head as a bonus for your pet cats to play with.

A stranger's pet is my own preferred animal as a neighbour might see you skulking round their back garden with a pick axe and twig what you were up to. So, off you go in the car and seek out your dinner. Once you have found a suitable four-legged meal, follow the owner home, wait for the right moment and then get the chloroform pads in action. One for the owner and one for the dog. Pop the zonked-out mutt into the strong black canvas bag you brought with you, shove it into the back of the car and off you go!

So now you've got your hound: what's the best way to **** it?  We gourmets have argued over this for years: decapitation, drowning, hanging, electrocution or beating to death with a sledgehammer? My own favourite method is to drop the drugged brute into a large tin bathtub of warm water and then add the 240v power cable. The expression on the dog's face when the volts kick in is fabulous but you need to be careful in case it leaps out of the bath and goes for your jugular. Hanging from a high tree, accompanied by extensive tenderizing with a baseball bat is a safer but equally enjoyable option. Two further benefits are that hanging is not so messy as the drowning/electrocution route and the whole family can watch a hanging in safety instead of having to risk the dog leaping out of the tub.

Once you are sure the dog is dead (about five minutes after it's stopped kicking and moaning), take it down and cut the head off with a cleaver.  Carefully remove the ears for use as decoration. If you have no cats to give the skull to, shove it on the top of your Christmas tree to provide a family talking point.

Next, skin the dog and discard, bearing in mind that it would be unwise to leave the telltale evidence for the binmen. My flaying advice is to use a sharp knife starting at the **** and working my way up to the neck. Be sure to remove all the ****** parts, as these do NOT taste good. It's nice to roast a Pittie whole, but few people have an oven big enough (unless you scored for a puppy that is). So, carefully cut up the cadaver into two or three separate joints. The following recipe is suitable for a nice shoulder or leg.

Rub all over with freshly ground sea salt and black pepper; make a series of deep incisions in the flesh at two-inch intervals and carefully insert slivers of fresh garlic. Place in your largest Le Creuset ***, with two pints of Evian water, a half-bottle of a full-bodied red wine, half a dozen French oignons and bring to the boil. Then reduce the heat and simmer for two to three hours, depending on weight. Be sure to check every 20 minutes that the liquid hasn't boiled away! Add extra wine and olive oil as necessary. Once the meat is tender, your dog is ready!

Serve your Pit Bull with mashed potatoes and a nice salad. I find a fruity Beaujolais drinks very well with stewed Pittie à la français but my paddy friends swear by Guinness. Whatever your tipple, enjoy our meal! And think: because of your caring approach to Christmas, one more turkey will live to see New Year and the world is rid of another Pit Bull horror.

Being with you has to be one of the most heart wrecking thing I've ever experienced.

Surrounding myself with you and communicating with you is a constant reminder of how much I'm falling for you while you're intensively falling for him.

Just sitting.
Just writing.
Saturday translating.
Comfortly feeling.
Relaxing this evening.
A feeling so captivating.
My mind is liberating.
Thoughts full imagination.
They are the reflection
of seduction.
When memories
feels so alive and
intensively.
Like dreaming in space
so heavenly.
The beauty of words
reveal our vulnerability.
Escape to infinity.

So many times
Trying to turn reasons
Into rhymes
Newest muse
Desperate attempt
Only to fall short
As soon as attention
Noticed
Wide eyed girl
Obsessed may I
Lacking depth
As soon as
Emotions copied
Or furthermore
Replaced
Gravity
With weights and stools
Climbing higher
Reaching further
Grasping air
While the painted red smile
Walked further north
And the Abled girl
With wide frames; golden bay
Lingered patterned
Against broken scooters and watched
While I made a fool over feet
In autumn leaves and new beginnings
You held my arm
While minds wander
Of heavenly thought
Of what it would be like
To hold your hand
And not mess it up
With my idiotic tongue
And presumptuous lip
Always rushing
Like one constant race
When the rules
Clearly states
Walk not run
Try to slow my tracking feet
From making another big leap
Intensively driven
Pretty glass eyes girl
Did you want me to admit my defeat?

I've been listening to a lot of new music lately
I just let the online radio go while I search for jobs
much more intensively than I had in the past
I used to think I was such hot **** with my MA
An MA degree, a ***** f’ing MA!
But now I know it’s all a crock *** of bull testicles
My generation was so brainwashed into thinking we could be whatever we wanted

The thought of me not accomplishing what I ought to
used to make me lay in bed and slump
but now I’m searching for any better thing so wholeheartedly
I realized a truth in this economy:
if you don’t know anybody
you’re best luck comes from quantity
something will hit
and if it doesn't
I've been listening to a lot of new music lately

Playing much less of my own music
as in hardly enough time to put a guitar or mando in my hand to jam
I’m on these job boards if I’m not sleeping, out with friends,
or working a **** job to be out with friends

Some say be happy you got a job at all
and if you really wanted something different
you wouldn't go out at all
you’d just sit at home looking for a job

That thought terrifies me cause
for those who don’t ever sacrifice their search for potential work
for the intermediary wants in life
they get sick quicker than expected and die

At least they always listened to new music lately

He said to type into Google "why does school make me"

Search results -
Why does school make me...
Sad
Tired
Depressed
Cry
Wanna die

Educating the mind without the heart is no education at all. Aristotle

The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. Nelson Mandela

Bright new buildings,
Inspirational quotes,
Like Aspire and achieve
and dream and believe!
Opportunity knocks? Opportunities missed. Opportunities lost.
This new building, less like a blank canvas,
More like a sterile factory.

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

Here's your target, here's your grade
Here's the progress that you've made.
Here's your number, here's your label,
Here's the proof of what you're able.
Step it up, you must try harder!
Learn to be better from your face partner!

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

Here's a pen, this ones blue,
For all the work you've got to do.
Here's a pen this ones green,
For all your errors are obscene.
Here's a purple, this one's progress,
For all the errors you've got to address.
Here's a pen, this ones a sword.
Stab your neighbour when you're bored.

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

"I wanna be a poet"
But you can't back a laureate.
"Art keeps me on the right path"
But your pathway leads to double math.
"I need music to understand my existence"
You need a Humanity in your condition.
Aspire to what we want.
Achieve what we allow.
Dream of a future where everyone's the same,
And always believe in what we say.

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

Here's some music to calm you down.
Now get up and move around.
Give your partner a big high five,
Lets show ofsted how you thrive.
Catch the ball and answer this,
Miss the ball, then take the ****.
"What a loser, you can't catch."

Next time, you catch it.
"Here's the question..."
Loser didn't learn the lesson.
"Next time learn it, do it better,
You're an A grade, that's your letter"
No more letters now a number.
"I'm a person not a number!"
"That's your third strike." Going under

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

Now you're out and down the PRU.
"You didn't do what we told you to,
Now we'll give you extra Art,
Let's go out and race Go Karts"
Not because "Every Child Matters"
"Now your progress doesn't matter."

Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die

False. Fake. Fraud.
Green for growth but no room to grow.
Thinking time but no time to think.
Forced reflection but no space to be.
Safeguarding but never free.
Every child matters?
Every child... except you

So delicious.
So sweet.
So lovely we
could meet.
I like you.
And crave you.
In my mind
I still taste you.
Remember the
smell of your skin.
Your touch so
intensively.
A memory still
inside of me.

You are whispering to me that you love me like:
- sinking into sleep
- mornings
- hot chocolate on a minus ten degrees
- the first touch
- the immersion of bare feet in warm summer sand
-  the dance of fireflies in June
-  a breather between two *******
-  a sincere smile between two denuded people

I write you a note on a slip of paper, as if I was a kid.
That I love you
Like a quilt on a minus fifteen degrees.
Like a inspiration.
Like a inception of the will.
Like a"Jaffa" biscuits and restful sleep.
Like a flowering cherry tree and glowing nut from a wild chestnut tree.
Like a sudden wonder.
You're asking me whether you are my sudden wonder.
Little, ragged wonder.
Yes, you are, I answer.
You love being my little ragged wonder.

You are asking:
For my nape and chin.
Top of my head  and lips.
Embrace of a careful lumberjack.
You want chin-caress.
For five minutes.
Intensively!

i cannot rest towards sleep,
not insomnia nature,
but this mind's consistency
to intensively be critical
of cared units to measure.

continuing as each
tactile, contractile, dactyl pressing
against this chest contesting
examination against my inclination
to worry a hurried
yet impede succession
to assess these abscesses
within
weaving teaming thoughts
defensive to the x and o drawn
so that i may anticipate
tomorrow's entailed
beauty

wait, a change in tone
a drop in breath
rest, retired, and displaced
movement of consciousness
no longer anxious

gravity has provided
a pillowed valley
to allow this face
to rest this monocle
towards the dimly lit
neon green
pass the hour 4
am I divulging
my emotions
to conceived
mirror
dramatic animated images

alas spirits
lifted
time
remains
cycling
pedaling
from
unneeded
wakes
of waves
so
I may
dream

As she yearns for the glimpse him
The sound of his voice cease to escape her mind
His memory cease to escape her side
The presence of him make lose her mind
The scent on the chest she lays her head on remains unforgettable
Replaceable
The only mind that understood her language of love
That intensively made her love grow founder of
The feeling that will never be understood by another
Feeling unique to her heart
Verbally shared but solely understood
The warmth felt in her heart
The touch her body remembers always
The purity of love only seen by her eyes
The perfection she grasps from the imperfections the world proclaims
Happiness she receives from the thought of his smile
Smile that brightens her face with glow

This whole connection
Turned out to be a misfortune
A misfortune that I saw in my dreams

My dreams are
The only true inspiration
Drifting my life away

Always getting a
Head start on
The end

Patches of lies hover  
Overhead; turning, transforming, and ironically
Never meeting the criteria

Focusing intensively  
Never seemed
So helpless
To me

Airbrushing the ego
Rapidly before we
Overturn a mirage

On went the night in staggering serenity. City blocks counted one, no two, in silent resilience, our cars always float on intensively. Our fingers tap in constant repentance.
Trickling streams, novice actors, and your perfume filled in-
The spaces where you wouldn't allow
Midnight air, weather fair, shadows in our hair, a novelty pin. The streetlights ask, don't you know me by now?
A lunar dance you sung to me, soft as a trapeze swingers talent. You fell asleep in summer's tree, I, I found my levels and balance.

Last night
I was intrigued with the idea that you cared about me.
I've been debating if it was really worth all those times
I spent with my finger over your name
in my contacts to call.
Each time I had to convince myself that I should never rely on you
considering that we became indifferent since I confessed my confusion for leading you on, in the most innocent way.
I didn't think you would just cut off all the emotional bonds we had.
Cause even though we were just friends in my mind
I was the saving grace in yours
and I hope to god that one day you could save me
from myself too.
But I resisted to open up the deepest parts of me.
That's not what you do when someone else is spilling their heart,
to overpower their issues with your own pathetic problems that couldn't compete.
So I kept my mouth shut,
and listen intensively.
I always wanted to be the first person you would come
running to when something went wrong.
Not because I envy your other friends
but because I thought if anyone could understand you
It would be me.
This was nothing short of a therapist session.
You trusted me to your core.
Or at least that's what you made me believe.
Yet when our friendship strained
and the yelling became more about
what our expectations for one another couldn't match up with,
I knew more than ever
that it was all based on a lie.
I haven't seen you for a while
and I don't know what it is that I miss
but I do know that I can't find one thing I fully have faith in
from all the words that you swore to have spoken to only me
without thinking about it twice.
So there I was, an emotional wreck.
With the lump of a pill to hard to swallow
and trembling fingers as I scroll over your name
as I pressed, actually pressed the call button.
I could barely hear the rings over my own shatter breathing.
It ringed not once, not twice, but four ******* times
when I decided that I shouldn't be calling you.
Pressing the end button as makeup smear tears fell onto the screen.
You question why I called you.
Was it with concern? pity? Or was it because you felt obligated to ask
what was wrong
as a way of repaying back for all those times I have asked you.
I didn't want to open up and act like I needed you, but in that moment
I did and all I could hear from your voice inside my head was
criticism and annoyance.
And It hit me hard in the pit of my stomach,
that I was just another girl to you with the same cliché story
of being in the middle of a nervous breakdown
that can only been given temporary relief from cigarette kisses
all in this poor attempt to seek your unwilling attention.
When you replies became silent
for whatever reason it might of been
It killed a part of my inside.
Cause I never would of left you alone
If you were in my place.
Friends we are,
but I guess I only can get that kind of satisfaction
If we were something more.
No longer will I believe you anymore.
Next time when you tell me
that I can trust you with anything,
I'll simply ignore the far fetch attempts of concern
and trade them in for a more permanent solution.
It won't leave me any better off, but at least it will always be there, whenever I truly need it.

When I hear the wind howling an enchanted melody
Like a magnetic force It commands my spirit
Draws me in intensively

There's something rather spiritual
Echoing from its sound
My thoughts they're governed led to think
Of those lost
Never found
As I hear the high pitched wailing
An eerie silence echos low
I feel the the hair stand on my neck
Spine tingling chills run slow
Captivated then entranced stunned rooted to the ground
Theres something Rather haunting
Echoing those lost

"It's in the sound"!

To be able to talk to you without no limitations. To be able to get to know you without hesitation. You are the one I LOVE deeply oh so intensively am willing to give my Life for yours if it must be. You are the Girl of my dreams ...she is beautiful her height about 5'7 her eyes hazel to honey brown at times depending on the day how she feels and the weather her skin as smooth as a baby's face the perfect tan a combination of 2 ethnic groups AA and Caucasian and not a 100% sure about that either. Her name I cannot give you it but her hair is oh so delightfully scentful her smile melts my soul right at the most intimate part of my sacred temple. She holds the Master Key to my soul and heart. She is my day and my night...she is the air I breathe in the morning light she is the presence I feel alone in the dark...my whole being revolves around her but she is a mystery to me since we never get to talk freely. I am bound by the chains of love and extreme attraction...to bad that I am just the Guy that works were she eats at...am just a mere abstraction.

I know am not an important person in her life or even got the type of class or status to be at her caliber. Nevertheless, I am the man that adores her I would give anything to converse with the Goddess that owns my very soul for I am lost in words describing her reflexion the only part I been able to see. I am so eager to see if the beauty that encompasses her physical being is similar to the beauty that reflects her spiritual being. Am also curious to see what type of personality she obtains but from her looks am sure she is far from my personal gain. Perhaps her morals are similar to mine...who are her friends what does she like...what's her favorite food? But am simply lost I don't know what else to say.

She hasn't come to eat at the Restaurant and am bummed out about that fact. Haven't seen her in a while...I wonder were she is at...perhaps enjoying life to the fullest with her BF that I have never seen. A man well established with high education and a professional job with a expensive car and lots of money...and then there is me a mediocre Dishwasher 2yrs of college but dropped out at 45 credits has student loans to pay...a cheap car to get me from point A to point B and a small tight budget that allows me to pay my bills and have a little extra to barely have fun in Life...so yeah...am here sitting alone it's 12:33 AM in my Mother's house having my 7 day vacation thinking about her...her then her and only her. She is the one who has conquered my heart but sadly I remain a broken mirror a pitiful reflexion of the shattered and scattered portrait of the lone poet who loved, loves and will forever love that one girl...that one day came into the establishment I work at and gives me light and hope but yet darkness and pessimism due to my failures in life and her triumphs in it.

Alone am here trapped thinking...what would be to have the honor to be her man and she my woman to love her caress her and care for her every need. A lone soliloquy of a soul in the in endless loop tangled in love but withering away due to the fact I am just the lonely man who may be the beggar the homeless and strained in the rain.

No where to turn no one to aid where has God gone to...I lost him somewheres.
©Franko the Christian Poet

“The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education.” - Martin Luther King, Jr.

I remember the first day of my class, when my teacher taught degree is part of your bright future!
I wonder how sheet of paper could define my life
How 3 hours of exam tells me who am I?
I wonder why life is all between GPA and Grades

I forget to laugh, Things left unsaid,
Experiences not lived,
Friends not much made.
Incomplete!

Class were between accountancy and theory,
Derivatives to Risk
Is all what I had supposed to believe?

Again I was puzzled,
Difference between a classroom and a plantation of time
Struggle between patient and constellations
Aspiration to Inspiration
Trying to connect the dots
After dots
I was failure

When my teachers taught in the classroom about calculation
Mom she was there saying me son failure are huge success of engine of innovation


Each day that passes
I only see more darkness

Too many feel the need to suppress
Anger, lies and distress

Seasons never change
this cycle comes with age

Here's to a new beginning
Pasts don't matter

Become who you want to be
Leave it all behind

Go live your life
Go find happiness
Be what you truly want to be

But don't forget
Generation with Generation needs us with Education is no equalizer
Raise your voice
Sky is not the limit. It is only the beginning.

Do you even know I exist.
In dark shimmering night.
Are you able to resist.
Words of love and happiness.
Feeling amazingly intensively.
Your mind in curiosity.
Wants to know more
of how it could be.
Biting your lip softly.
Caressing your soul gently.
What I really want you to see.
Is the beauty inside of you.
A sparkle through marbles.
Let it shine through eternity.
Just some thoughts
of a girl you don't really see.
Only words you read
in her poetry.

Empty state of mind?
I see everything in black & white.
The sun has already had a great
day & it's already going away.
What have I done all day?
The sun sets & it looks like
paradise to me, but when it's gone,
everything suddenly comes back.

Darkness, my greatest friend.
How are you? Come to see how
I'm doing once again?
Don't you worry, I've missed you
greatly, but there's always a
part of you with me.
Oh dear old friend, let me
tell you about my pain.
Now that I'm older,
I desire to start over.
The child inside can't help
but drown in all the tears
the pain has brought.
Insomnia intensively active
Trying to find my way.
Not I knowing if I'm right or wrong,
Not knowing what going on.

Dying to be born/ by me...such longing, unbearable bonding you seek yet none to be had!!! Miserably happy, intensively sad!
A freak to be alive. All motivational gatherer's gather to one drum, where day meets thy sun in snow tatted sty's. Where the wind gets heavy, your souls longing stays abliged...
The weathering of rainbow colors comes politely to what one shall meet, these beings seen as if actors, not your typical doctors and lawyers. These cuddled ways not your atypical streets! Soo/many Starer's, none farer than that blossoming I miss the most! Is it Me or they who have gone over trotted? I guess its all I suppose...
The smallest things to make man appreciate what he had, the child born to his fatherless widow, or unpopulaters from the trended fad!
What a loss we all were when it came to finding our other half's, when light meets the darkness, between thine good and thy bad!!!!

Peering intensively through fog-marked mullioned glass
into a cool and conquering October sunrise
I am met with a profound and welcoming sudden awareness -
zephyrs breathing through each emerald green grass blade,
     brow of country hilltops, mountains materializing
with the passing of each era like wrinkles in a face,
clouds crawling the longitudes to reform over Pacific pools somewhere,
soil forcing upward making way for elm or oak or pine to tower,
rivers thundering wild down the backs of continents,
     cliff or crag breaking the maelstrom on occasion,
and all the while spinning, all of this and more, clinging to the frame of the earth
as it dances balanced on axis, pirouetting through the cosmos
in turbulent, beautiful, simply complex form just as I
back away from the window and extend an arm to brace myself.

Hello sister; can I have a word with you for a second
I see you as a good girl but other thought you 've got a different dimension
You dressed decently; putting a hijab on a skirt and blouse
But you 're something else when you 're outside your father's house
You 're a wild girl outside; but your neighbours taught you 're a decent girl
Half-bad and half-good like she 's stuck in bewilderment
She 's on the street scuffing; sniffing and puffing the cigarette
Looking for exotic-guys as she surf through the internet
She dress solo; she wears tight jean to make her *** looks mono
She rides solo; she wears "I 'm ****" logo
She rolls her artificial eyelids up and down as she walks through the district
A slim teen at the age of sixteen
Posting pictures on facebook; asking how do her face look
Black girl turns white and disastrous like space nuke
Posting half-naked pictures on instagram just to get more likes
She 's gone astray; and her dignity has gone on strike
She lies on her bed seductively; taking pictures inductively
She 'd loss her senses; she can't reason deductively
SlayQueen 's gon wild now; she 's no more domestical
She never minds the critics who says her life is pathetical
She shows her nice curve; dancing hot at the night club
a feeling of being hysterical; she can't resist a guy's touch
She displays her pale skin; and she smiles with fake grin
Young girl turns woman; Miss independence, Madam Slay Queen
She 's a witch of a high class;
with her vision behind glass
And now the lights and camera are all on you
Take pretty pictures is what you do;
Your ***** soul is the devil's bin.
Slay king & slay queen; two disgusting being
I wish a selfie would reflect
Our shortcomings and defects;
Our character and worse behaviour;
And let it stinks out to the neighbours.
The consequences of our stupidity,
And our heart with less rigidity.
How old are you when you loss your virginity
Maybe sixteen; a noble-less girl without a dignity
You're beautiful from the lens of a camera
Yet your character disgusts like cholera.
Your pictures go viral
50k likes on your slay pics, you are the girl that every guy admire
You put your boyfriend over your parent; you could talk to em aggressively
You allow your boyfriend to lay with you intensively
Sister; you 're not his only boo;
You 're just one of a kind, his first-class *******
All in the name of being caring; you 're just a JUST amidst his multitude
You better think better;
Think better and be clever
Try taking a selfie of your inner person;
Edit your flaws, let your ignorance lessen;
Brighten your heart, let your prudence strengthen;
And do away with spots that your virtue threaten.

The infinite,
a definite article.

I crafted a faith from the balsa wood tree
subtle and supple and
yielding
like me.

The indefinite article,
a death that lasts for
a lifetime.

Who knows but a long time could tell in what fiction we dwell?
is this mansion a house among many?

While the jackdaw gnaws at my bones I have found friends in high towers and homes where they welcomed me,
Intuitively I knew the new religion was true,
the words on the walls were a lie.

Charity begins when clarity wins and the needs of the many are met.

You can't feed on fish when the hungry go hungry and can only feed on the wish to be fed.

All we can do at the end of the day is count all our blessings and then give them away to those who aren't quite so blessed.

Mind unity
infinity
both
you
me
Intensively
working for the common good
would be good.

I trawl on this travel trying to wrap up or unravel the puzzle of life.
All that I catch are the bones that match those that the jackdaw's been gnawing.

Like words in a poem.
A long day at work
and arriving home.
A simple hello so kind.
Leaving troubles behind.
A kiss will change your life.
A broken heart
that cuts like a knife.
My soul reaching above.
To feel intensively love.
Your words comfort mine.
When two souls combines.

Your green eye looks down
with shyness,
Brown eye looks up
with confidence.

Green eye contains empathy
to support,
Brown eye with focus
to find solutions for problems

Pair of brown eyes
shut up shop for every delicate kiss,
Pair of green eyes
stare intensively into my soul and heart.

Start of dates is introduction of chartreuse eyes,
Letting me in, not judging my stutter,
End of dates the evaluating chocolate eyes,
Silly but, one mistake, you’ll ask for the bill.

I’m apologising through poetry
for yesterday’s date
‘Cause your pair of different coloured eyes
made me panicked!

Rubber band, a ******* smell, I smell your tires in the cold winter, as i ******* to the sounds of a running engine.
My dino-size **** fits right in the gas tank, i pump the gas out while my other ***** stares at the next house neighbor
She's wearing a miniskirt, i always knew she was slutty being all blushy when she looked at the tip of my forehead.
We went skinny dipping once in high school before she turned into a slug ******* succubus, i took my ******* and threw it at her front door.
"Is this for me," She asked, plucking eyebrows intensively.
"No it's not, it's brand new from amazon," I said as i stretched my tongue around her neck, licking every pixel of her sweaty ***.
"But you can come to my tea party," I smiled.
Mother was not pleased with the choice of my beverage so i moved to California where winters were warmer.

At first glimpse,he seemed infinitely dangerous-even barbaric.
And yet something in his eyes called out to me.

I should have trembled in fear,but his touch held me spellbound when he summoned me to his chamber, my heart lodged my in throat.

I cannot comprehend the power he held over me.
How is it possible when i have known him such a brief time?

He took my body with surprising gentleness,treating my innocence as a precious gift.
In his embrace,i discovered the wonder and the anguish of desire.

Against my will,he haunted my dreams.
His kiss ,his slightest caress left me breathless and trembling.
His hands on my flesh were magical,caressing and claiming arousing a fierce desire deep within me.

He challeged my heart ,daring me to open myself to passion.
My resistance seemed hopeless.
How could i defend myself against the restless yearning he kindled in me?

He made me feel intensively alive.
He makes my heart sings and sets my blood on fire.
He touches me with startling tendency as if my heart belonged to him.

He made his intent clear;he was determined to have me-body and soul.
Offered the haunting promise of paradise
if i but had the courage to grasp it.

He drew from my heart's most intimate secrets.
Led me on an odyssey into the fiery heat of passion.
But his price was so dear;he demanded my heart.

I am that most miserable of creatures;a woman tormented by heartache.
The thought of never knowing his touch-his fierce caress is more than i can bear.

It's true that the passion of the flesh can beget the passion of the heart-i am living proof.
The heart knows its one true mate..i am a prisoner..

#WilliamsMarta(Tweencool)#
#Mamo's poetry#

But still living and breathing
a distance of 15 years
since i last cast my pair of eyes
on your undisputed beauty

only time moved
your attractive looks
remained static and firmly fixed

my soul is blind to
developing wrinkles
fading attraction
excess weight on you

my desire fire for you
is burning intensively
is the heart in you
ready to quench
my desire fire
over and over?

i beg you
relieve me
of the burden and pain
of waiting for a response!