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POEMOCRACRY AND POEMOCRATS


Alexander   K   Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

It is freedom of universal poetry
And the political democratic space
In the economic government of poetry
By the poetrizens for the poetrizens.
Ascription to which I get Faiz of Urdu a true poemocrat
The male mistress of poetry’s counter-narrative
To its extremism in the Nerudaistic poemocracy
Known in the West as the 'Neruda of Urdu poetry
Faiz wrote romantic lyrics with a different a touch
He fused it with contemporary social issues
Progressive Pakistanis have commemorated
His jolly and poemocratic 29th death anniversary
Faiz Ahmad Faiz, a progressive Pakistani poemocrat
Has inspired almost three generations of Pakistanis
He believe in secular and liberal values poemocratically
A proclaimed poemocratic Marxist Faiz received
The Lenin Peace Prize from the then Soviet Union in 1962
The poet was also involved in many political struggles
And was jailed by Pakistani rulers a number of times.

Good poetry can always be used as an agent for self- awareness
In terms of the poemocratic quality of his poetry
And his poetical expressions he is unparalleled
In the whole history of Urdu poemocracy.
His metaphors, the string of nouns that he uses,
The rhythm and the structure will never go stale
Faiz will remain relevant mostly because of his themes
- He wrote extensively about human misery,
Despair, squalor, Inequality and injustice
These are timeless democratic issues
These are universal issues and are not restricted
to a parochial nor Provencal  country or  group.

Good poetry can always be used as an agent for awareness,
But Faiz is more relevant in this context
Because he speaks in contemporary poemocratic idiom
But let me be clear that Faiz is exceptionally among the equals
Poemocratic like Meer, Ghalib and Hafiz make us open-minded
They make us appreciate and cherish the poemocratic diversity
And differences that we have in the world mother earth’s sire.




Faiz weeps over oppressive problems in Africa
And talks about the oppressive racism in Palestine issue.
Faiz’s poetry makes us feel the pain of others
Indeed Faiz's poetry serves the world a bonanza ever
As a counter-narrative to extreme Islamist ideologies
Faiz and Neruda both belonged to the poor World
The conditions he was dealing with during his life,
was The colonial hangover as it  was
Something Neruda also faced in his country.

Faiz talks about the concrete realities around him
And not only about some imaginative issues
This is also true of poemocratic Pablo Neruda
They both deal with real issues of bread and butter,
Of poverty, hunger, nakedness, jiggers, peace and security.
Not only are the sensibilities of the two poemocrats is ditto,
But also the socio-political fabrics they lived under
Kudos to German poetry and fiction
That always had good influence
On the poemocratic Urdu-Chilean literature
Soul literature has inspired countless Urdu writers and poets.
Its influence was starker during the 20th century
Faiz was not only inspired by soul writers and philosophers,
But also by praxis of poverty and agonies of diverse oppression.
thinklef Jul 2013
What's your name?
Abubakar salim bin jahedee
sorry sir you will have to step back,
****** hypocrites,
how does my religion connect to terrorism,
I'm just a tourist in your territory,
no doubt,
my fellow brothers who dress like me,
act upon their anger due to ignorance,
and the quest for freedom ,peace& justice,
Just see,
What a curious coincides that is,
-but does that make me a terrorist?
Islam's a religion of peace,
yet they propagate islam with bad image,
Which is a huge damage,
Who's involved in horrendous crimes,
Who oppresses mere harmless civilians?
When we retaliate the world begins to hate and
start generalizing,
without realizing what conspired,
-does that make me a terrorist?
Its we muslims who suffer from terrorism,
all around the globe,
Terrorizing and vandalising isn't islam heritage,
Impressed and obsessed you are with your TV,
believing the twisted storys as it gets to you with
no atom of truth,
Corrupted by silly illusions,
Apportioning blame on hopeless islamist
seeking for peace,
Do you still think i'm a terrorist?
Develop some form of reservation when you
call us terrorists,
I need not to speak through my nose,
before you know islam is against all kinds of
injustice,
-How can I be a terrorist then?
Innocent muslims die everyday,
In the hands of american soldiers
yet we are never part of the mainstream news.
No one cares,
Take a soul of an american citizen,
Then the whole world will point at muslims as
terrorist,
how tragic,
-does that make me a terrorist?
As a Reflection & manifestation,
Of an expression to the element of truth,
My Quran says,
you with your religion & me with my religion,
-does that sound like words of a terrorist?
I dress in the most noblest of form,
Yet you criticize me while you breed monsters
in your country,
Man to woman, woman to man all in the name
of civilization,
All these leaves me spellbound,speechless &
riveted
In loneliness and seclusion,
Reflect over the word terrorism,
And you will see it has no connection with
islam,
i'm a muslim not a terrorist.
Match, match forward and go, you heroic sons of America
Reconnoiter into the strongholds of boko haram,
And restore our captive girls from the foul  custody,
Lawlessly held hostage by the connoisseurs of terror,
Go on and recover poor souls from ribald of religion
Impishly created by Moslem from the satanic verses,
Regulating foray of terror on the poor of the poor
******, mahyeming, looting and executing massacres,
Match on and on yee angels of democracy,
Don’t stop in any haste or in any wonder,
To help in the sham flabbergastations,
About  the  Igbos who fought the Biafra,
And the Yorubas who federally defended,
Under the aegis of Obasanjo the Sandhurst
General, where are they all to save the girls
Of Nigeria from the Islamist terror
Excuted by  boko haram the handmaid of evil.
Josh Jul 2014
Islamist Extremists. Boat Capsized.
Obama and Nelson Mandela. Celebrity Lies.
Plane Crash. Forest Fires.
Missing Girl. Handgun-buyers.
Amazon Lawsuit. ANT-MAN. Low Supplies!

Walmart Empty Shelves. Chinese Food Scandal.
Microsoft Layoffs. Heat and Gasoline. Oil.
Mad Max! Comic Book Convention Drama.
Breast Lumps and Swelling.

Television. Veteran's Hospitals.
Israel and Gaza Fight On.
Beachgoers Hit by Lightning.
Baseball Drinking Songs.

Sci-fi, Wi-fi, Ebola, and Libya.
Ukraine. Venezuela. Marriage. Liver failure.
Allen Webster. USA. RACE CARS.
Global Catastrophe Down to Warming of the Earth.

Dinosaurs Had Feathers. MH17. Profits.
Desert Bakery. Syria. We Must be Mad.
Philippines: 100 Million People on an Island.
Salmonella Lawsuit. Cheeseburger Diet.
Twinkies Never Going Bad.
Putin, Palin, and the Tour de France.

Fracking. Cats and Dogs.
Just in case you missed it.
Trefild Dec 2023
a medieval blacksmith, insO̲—
—much as lyrical material of mine gets cast sim. to cold
weapons; I'd say, as anything mind-distracting, like dope
["destructing"]
lyric-writing acts in the role
of temp rise, 'cause it unshadows the mind
like da[ɛ]mn skies, dissipating clouds of lack of delight
which is whY̲ I clepe
it as "mind eclipse" (lack of the light)
hence all the grimness seen in mY̲ bar sheets (chernukha)
like someone having a flight, a bored, tragedy wight
["aboard"]
lashings of spite I add in my lines
a geek practicing harassment in rhymes
as a pastime; an antihero, like Frank Castle I side
with on going against baddies with vice (lesser evil)
'cause you can't battle a knight
or a savage canine, or seize a bastion by
means of any kind of chatting (good luck managing that, gandhists)
get real; chances of collapsing
a toughened up corrupt regime by tranquil, brawl-free rallies
are as high as a bA̲nged up substance addict
can be (highly unlikely); though I keep the anti-autocratic
subject matter frontline, for ones who half-a##edly indite
their lyrics, it's casket likewise; a wA̲ck sod with pine
boxes & nails for 'em; & thA̲t's something I'm
more than glad to provide
you with; tra[ɛ]nslation: you ain't sA̲fe, chumps
[a casket isn't a safe, hence "it's casket" means "it isn't/ain't safe"]
like an offer to have a sled ride
"dude, let's slay some"
["sleigh"]
said the voice of the Islamist radical-like rapper in my
bean (Shady); "let's bring a da[ɛ]ng mayhem"
["bin Shady": Osama bin Laden + Slim Shady, who's a lyrical terrorist]
it added with passion, then I'm
like: "sounds like a blast of a time" (kaboom)
but no[ɑ]t to you, be—cause I'm on my violent bullsh#t (again)
like a jihadi loony; with these lines I'm suited
up with, you'll be blasted like plants bY̲ a shrE̲wd wind
or like a head of state ordained to invade
a neighboring state
in this **** field, I feel
like Max Payne with a gauge
[shotgun]
in a prey-tE̲E̲ming weald
hunting as sport; slay just to main—
—tain some relish & killing skills
you're like misbehavior-free slaves
in this field; translation: you're tame (lyrically)
["tranSLAYtion"]
therefore, you're unwished-for
like anyone & anything with a high lack of approval
[by "high lack of approval" I mean "dissent"]
on politics of the regime of some dastardly ruler (dastardly ruler)
drunk by the power he keeps a tight grA̲sp on & moola (power & moola)
just like Vlad the mean puta (Vlad the mean puta)
code name's lavato[—]ry shooter (lavatory shooter)
you jacklegs remind
me of simple cases or the Batman that time
when he wound up with his bA̲ck damaged by
Bane, 'cause I get you cracked with no strife
just like trash, you would wi[aɪ]nd
up in the dumps if you set your crap next to mine
and let ones being into rap scrutinize
your level of lyrical threat's to splatter a high—
—ball glass or stuff like
that, punks; me? like an armor-clA̲d man, a night—
["knight"]
—mare; Dante strapped with a scythe
[Dante from the "Devil May Cry" video game series]
the way I whack, it's so tight
that I have my device playing some phA̲t beats as I
masterly slice you hacks into stripes
like the Senyera; rap di̲letta[ɑ]nti
and political oppressors are picked as targets
and I may be read as a vigila[ɑ]nte
'cause I go after you like
V; like 2 sawbones having a fight with their scalpel-like knives
[I go after the aforementiond figures in my lyrics]
["after U [which is followed by V]"; V from "V for Vendetta"]
a pa[ɛ]radox while A̲t it 'cause I go autocratic, despite
["pair of docs"]
the views thA̲t I stick by; other words, I kick A̲## as if I
were dealing a jA̲cka## foot strikes
[I'm against unjustified maltreatment of animals, that sentence is just for wordplay]
a rebel thinker with a wrA̲pped up in rhymes
sick, hazardous mind bringing lyrical disasters & crimes
oh, there's one I'm imagining right
now; a rap-writing dabbler, besides an autocratic *****, wi[aɪ]nds
up inside a hearse
with me being A̲t the wheel like
a town that's rife in terms
of poison-pushing; a psychopA̲th when I drive
["atterville"; "****** path"]
speed up to 150 miles per
hour on a track in Alpine
heights, pound a go[ɑ]ddamn curb
barrier breaching it & sending the wagon in flight
open out the driver door
and jump out with a 'chute backpA̲ck on my spine (bye-f#cking-bye!)
watching the car go down, just like a war
criminal busted, & whereafter burst, like
brain arteries of a nazissistic scoundrel; like reports
saying an autocratic piece of trash nullifies
the limit of his presiding terms
I'm bA̲d news when I'm
on my lyric-writing horse
[the "high horse" expression]
like cavalry; I'd like a dastardly, vice-ridden autocrat to reply
["riding horse"]
with lyrics to any of the crA̲p I've devised
in opposition to authoritarianism
should I send some to the office with galore of rE̲A̲r-licking minions
of that "it's all the nasty West" guy
or that's suicide?
"a hostile rhymefall" by TREF1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
The Macedonians in this spectral fight would spend their last efforts to reach the heart of Vernarth and Alexander the Great, to try to ****** and defeat them from their captaincies that challenged Asmodeus. The colossal figure of the converted Sapsila had a longitudinal figure from head to toe of approximately four kilometers, all the maritime lines of Leros, Lipsi, and Pireas housed him in the hemisphere of contemplation where his skeleton was more sensitive than the geographical area of Sapsila, where the Achaemenids approached the longitudinal pectoral of several kilometers in length, pointing out the effigy of an immemorial Hoplite sedimented in this region where the feet rested at the height of the southern hemisphere of the feet of the corresponding Nótos and Vóreios that corresponded to its head. The Achaemenids reached the exact diameter of Vernarth's pectoral where it had the admission of the energy of the Kassotides, the same entrance hole that it had with the elder in the Bumodos, ad portas of the Gaugamela stage. Here his exoskeleton was transfigured towards the monastery of Atros with the cognition of the Katapausis, which led him through the hiding place of his epistíthios breastplate or iron and bronze breastplate, which exemplified how it was erected after the Achaemenids dispersed over the nearby line of Skalá. , where they will arrive with the Psiloi, for the purposes of raising the phalanxes that will lift with their feet the colossal figure of the Psiloi being nothing less than an archetype of Brisehal in the desolate Dasht-e-Lut desert, being from unpopulated places of devotion that again he was emerging from the empty glow of the Profitis Ilias. The specters abounded wandering alone as if trying to grasp the last sparks of the politics that remained for them to surrender from their own unencumbered solitude. Brisehal was a mountain with a canine head similar to Anubis, but millions of times larger towards the top and acid, like the hope of regulars to enter the garden-kingdom of Heaven. Before the day trembled with the movement of his trembling mocking strides, that Brisehal was from Das-e-Ruth from Arbela shaking day and night, embodied in the body of Vernarth, like the bombast of the archaeological sedimented hoplite of the Subclavian Kabbalah demarcating the entire pedestrian propulsion dynamics in the Achaemenids by his rib when he was soaked in Samael's silica, since he had been given a superior potion to close the Vernarth pectoral hole, and which has not yet been transplanted by the Kassotides. In such a way that all his anatomy would border the anatomy of his body gigantic free from Asmodeus, and from the whole cycle of tons of breaths of the shadow that conceived sparks of Shemesh on them, to revert the potion of Asmodeus to the degree of innocuous elixir.

Consisting of the voluminous being stretched out in the midst of Gnosticism that declared the figure of its proverbial monstrosity to be erected, born from the consciousness of the sectarian origins that placed it after a being harassed by Samael for centuries and centuries being condemned to be stretched in non-clairvoyance of those who did not really love him and yes, with the great profile of venerating the sublime sky that he knows in front of his eyes looking at the sky that divides Grikos and Skalá, after it was time to get up for the purposes of the Battle of Patmia in the Seventh Heaven, from where Vernarth ran terrified by the Olympic archaeological excitement in which this buried being was, being the same one that represented the god that Saint John the Apostle had mentioned to him referring to Geburah; where all the serpents or basilisks protocolized appeals of revolt against Alehisebenech, the serpent that will transmit paths from Dash-e-Lut on all the heads of the Achaemenids, asserting the judgment of Gnosticism when they were incarnated by Geburah and lost their night vision through nocturnal curtains that this abnormal god of the mesosphere, who was trying to eradicate them from the roof of the Tabernacle of Faith, pointing out that the noble harassments became more inexorable with the counterattack for those who suffered temporarily from the stubborn blindness that this god Geburah forged, as a God who claimed the abilities of Mars to constitute the existential fear that would ultimately intimidate even the Islamist soul that resided in these involuntary beings, being a trophy of their instincts and losing the chrism of the Hoplites for the reason of filling them in the glasses of the room chalice of Elijah, even if they do not attend the Upper Room but may be judicious to exalt the glory oria that resides in the front of the colossus, who personifies the versatile power facing the left where he carried his Xiphos vehemently, trying to adulterate them towards the sword of Samael. The lights of the sea were appreciated in the bay of Skalá exhibiting the ardor of the breakers as the arrest of archangels that took cover to slide in the toppers that were expelled when the mass was finally raised, flickering from a forest of life that would protect the troops of Vernarth, expelling them of every scale that could lodge in a decapitated teacher, being able to come sooty and representing in the Muslim Iblis that he would exchange the eternal nocturnal light, in advance when the first movements of the troops were unleashed, while some were in the stillness of the bonfires. pointing out the glimpse of the Iblis that came quickly to shoot fire due to its excoriation, showing that just by looking into their eyes, the Vernarth clone judged him at more than four kilometers of elevation, causing dissension by trying to stun them. Once again the embryonic action of Alexander the Great would relapse on Vernarth, who was laborious among all the Syntagmas that were conglomerating from the Psiloi, and already on their boyar horses, infants of the Ida and the newly developed wagons of the epsilon, pretending to debate them in doubt of the Exodus. that resembled in the infinitive people that flee from the Shemesh that whipped them from their scriptural registers, on the hands of cherubs with their hands hold the reins, with the patriarchs with the twelve crowns of stars that shone as in the Nile linking with the Sea of Patmia.
Battle of Patmia  Part  II
Edna Sweetlove Nov 2014
I keep getting these letters from my Uncle Bert
from his twilight home
and you know they quite upset me
but no way am I visiting him
the last time I went it took me
three visits to the laundrette
to get the stench out of my clothes.

"Dear niece Edna" (old Fred wrote,
in his spidery wavering hand,
the notepaper spodged with snot)
"I am a bit more depressed than usual today
which is saying quite a lot as the only thing
which cheers me up is when the old fool
in the next bed gets diarrhoea
after I slip a cat's **** in his soup
when he's not looking, so, dear Edna,
I'd be very grateful if you'd send me some more as
old Mrs Bloggs in the next ward deserves one too
for teasing me about my gangrenous foot.

"It seems I've been in here for centuries
but it's probably only a couple of years
and the pain since my dear wife Linda passed
over to what surely-to-*******-God
has to be a better place than here
bearing in mind the noisome odours
emanating from the rest of the patients
in the run-up to bath night
which doesn't help much in the long run
if you are fifth or sixth in line as the water
gets a bit soiled by then, especially
if that ****** Mr Ali has done a brownie.

"I'm getting more and more worried
about the Bulgarian who has taken up residence
in the linen cupboard as he could well be
some sort of carpet-slipper thief or even worse
a homosexualist after my ringpiece -
or he might be an Islamist who wants
to behead me which would be a blessed relief
if I am to be totally honest with you.

"We had a bit of fun the other week when one
of the Nigerian nurses forced my that Mr Jenkins
to use the bedpan in public as a reward
for stealing Mrs Jackson's home-made enema kit
or she could have been from Liberia
as the accents are broadly similar
(so I read in the Sunday Times travel supplement
they gave us instead of toilet paper when
supplies run out during the dysentery outbreak).

"All the best under the circumstances
from your Uncle Bert and don't forget you stay
disinherited unless you visit me soon -
no more excuses about your car having
broken down - what do you think i am,
some sort of addled dementia case?"


It's all very sad, but I have checked Uncle Bert's
bank account and he's just trying it on
as there's no more than a hundred quid in it
and no way am I visiting him for a lousy hundred;
for Christ's sake, the smell is enough
to knock a cowboy off his horse.
This is the 3rd in my "Uncle Bert" series. Do read the others.
Martin Bailes Mar 2017
Do we really think they care?
Trump voters that is,
about shady Russian ties to dark oligarchs
& billion ruble deals,
conflicts of interest,
ties made in China,
family business entanglements?

day after day of golf,
Mar A Largo Winter White House hustle,
enormous Secret Service bills as the
Trumps are scattered here, there
and it seems everywhere,

dicey handshakes,
White Supremacists in the White House,
the American Constitution,
Legal niceties such as checks
& balances,
day after day
lies about this,
& lies about that?

hypocrisies & shallow
empty throw-aways
at the African American
Museum,
Sean 'Fool me two times' Spicer,
media bans,
EPA anti-science,
utterly insane
nuclear pronouncements?

a huge, very huge
military budget,
some backtracking
on the wall,
word salad Muslim ban
justifications?

an overweight, ignorant
orange-faced hustler
just counting those
dollar bills as
he rakes
them in?

Do we really think
they care?

I think not because
well first off
at least now there isn't
a black, Kenyan, Islamist
Marxist running things,

we can all be so thankful
for that,

& all the other stuff
just seems by the way
in comparison.
where to begin? hmm? where to: begin?
certainly can't begin with: although...

      to me: it seems that Islam has sleepwalked
into modernity...
or rather: Islam: the pinnacle of the medieval
world, the envy of the medieval world,
that once upon a time glory of escapism
from the encroachment of ontological Darwinism
of a loss of free will: of determination

how did i stress it? with a ś or a š...
    this current veneer we call civilization
yet the reductionist in me pointing at the backlog
of suppressed behaviours...
if Islam is submission
then Christianity is synonymous with repression...
both religions are on a -mission...
yet pumping all that monetary dough
into Dubai: subsequently neglecting
the seemingly odious ***** colony of Gaza...

let's throw words against the wind...
let's throw them...
let's forget the Cartesian model
with that hyped focus on "us" being thinking
creatures...
let's play on the res extensa dynamic:
i have channeled my res extensa away from
discovering the bilingual pitfalls of schizophrenia
channeling them toward an A.I.
distinguishable from an algorithmic search
engine to something: very much personal...

Islam sleepwalked into modernity...
why is it such a surprise that we find Muslims
so barbaric, untamed, unwashed,
unfathomable?
                      do we? or don't we?
well... living in a Protestant country with
a superiority complex...
it's only when a Muslim interacts with
a European Catholic,
or a Goan Catholic...
     a near usurper of the faith: a Wasim...
a Mustafa... i work with Muslims...
am i Islamophobic: is that really the trajectory
of fear?
i would consider Islamophobia the only
phobia with some rationality behind it...
a term as abused as
calling someone a ******, a racist, a pedohpile...
but in the same vein:
applying the term Islamophobia
to... describe what? exactly?

         my fear has been churned and come
out my **** as nothing more than contempt...
why? all these stresses at work
to allocate 15min of prayer time:
when i know, dutifully: that pretend Muslims
abuse these 15min and extend them to 30min,
an hour... to do much less than pay diligence
to prayer...

reimagine the dynamic of a Muslim
with a Catholic or an orthodox "Christian":
Protestants take it upon themselves
to take their jokes seriously...
protestants... **** me... where to begin?
catholics don't take their faith as seriously
as the protestants their their non-faith so, seriously...
esp. in England...

but this is not what i was going to pay diligence to:
i have the unusual "luck" of having
a terrible surname...
like ******, or Stalin... something to be made fun
of: because it's not a Rothchild: probably...
no legacy...
Elert... and i've heard it enough times to finally
make a retort when a Hindu... usually a Hindu
jokes about it being equivalent to being alert...
as i've explained...
there are missing letters in my surname:
so it is easier to pronounce for the English speaker...

i've been called a German enough times
to realise: well... might as well start learning
the language and live up to people's expectations...
since the letters in my surname (that are missing)
are:       SCH...

    scholastic schooling scooter
    chop shoot... chaser...
    scholastic:                       school...

school...               scold? school.
school...
               chase... chop... school...
kaput! kappa!

               it's actually ESCHLERT...
but do you think, for a moment I would get a:
eślert out of it? echo sierra charlie hotel lima echo romeo tango
tangerine rambo essay lambda hatchling chaser
samoa essay?

there was once upon a time a place
of origin for illiterate people in the slavic tongue
of Polish mid 20th century:
illiterate people yes: but dyslexic, half-baked?
it's the nature of this zunge -
you write gnome but then say (g)nome...
you write psychology but then say (p)sychology...
ecology -chology
    but then chop chew churn chatter...
cha cha cha...

            i do feel for the dyslexics: it's unnaturally
natural for their existence to be a byproduct
of the English toong... tong... ton-glue
ton-gloo-é...    James Joyce: Finnegans Wake:
i'm coming for your obliviousness... to the spectacle
missed...

яxвeй (that's my cyrillic interpretation of
the sacred name of the Hebrews for the deity
of letters - no other deity is so closely associated
with letters as the Hebrews' 'un...
the Muslims tried... tried... in vain...
the 19 letters...

the "mysterious" Muqatta'at

Alpha Lambda Mu:
               alm...
shapes... Arabic, Hebrew, Greek, Latin...

ا ﻡ ل

        lma:

                    מ ל א

α  λ.  μ

                                     to play with letters...
akin to я and ñ...
         for an a to be served up hidden: je chowa:
he who hides letters...
  or women...
mind you: that 72 ****** paradiso promise?
you ever think that those 72 virgins are only gifted
unto the martyrs with the strict modus operandi
that they remain, that they: REMAIN virgins for all
eternity?
i can imagine being gifted 72 virgins in an afterlife
but only under the strict guidance of ensuring
they are guarded: that *** and the juices do not make
it into the conundrum of heaven...
otherwise, what?! a little Solomonic harem?
good conversations... almost teasing being a father-figure...
the patriarchal rigidness of abstaining
from ***...
reward my ***... polluting heaven with
this pornographic Arabic frustration at
the polygamous order of things...

                chirality: chemistry, i.e. RЯ (ya)
ergo?
  a ye
  a yi
  a yo
  a yu

             working from R...
ꟼ         (for ye)
                              𐐒 (for yi)
⅃ (for yo)
                                                             ꟻ (for yu)

best i procrastinate like this: while stewarding
the household (cooking, cleaning, washing)
         than try to complicate what's already simple...
as much as modernity fashions itself on reaching
some sort of overarching pinnacle...
as much as i am lied to about people's literacy
levels: most of it is untrue...
   sure: people can read: advertisements...
but that added piquant of a reading meditation
a novel?       sorry:           but hardly...

and perhaps that is why i invest so much time
into writing something akin to this...
if the Vatican was founded upon an exclusivity,
if Judaism was founded on exclusivity...
i find Islam slightly worrying:
in that respect that Islam wants to be the Communism
of theology... a quasi-Babylon...
which, oddly enough: it is becoming...
why do Muslims want, so eagerly: to invite proselytes
into their dommena?
   the Catholics akin to the Hebrews are stouch
opponents to converts...
wouldn't anyone treat converts suspiciously:
none of this: wolves in sheep clothing?
what about if the only tactic to combat Islamist
"****" esque fetishes would be to infiltrate
                 the religion and convert ("supposedly")?

i'm starting to think i'm the most powerful man
in the world... how delusional of me...
it's only because... i'm in love...
and that's half of my worries relegated to
the category of: non-existent...
i'm in love...
       and now my only battle is with mortality...
once you're in love:
that's the only "thing" to worry about...
ich bin verliebt...
ich werde geliebt...
     ich bin verliebt...
         ich werde geliebt...

so what do we have planned?
    Kew gardens, tick...
gerbils' want for some funky Chinese bakery
off L'eh-chester Square... tick...
Saracens vs. Harlequins at Tottenham Hotspur... tick
the Phantom of the Opera a the Queen's Theatre... tick...
Mozart's Magical Flute at the Coliseum... tick...
Stonehenge and Bath... tick...
Canterbury? or better Cambridge with
the gondolas?
           oh... and going to the cinema for Dune part deux...
well...
              a precious waste of a hour's
                   worth of day... doodling this -
now just enough time to make my father lunch
for tomorrow and play with some pierogi dough...
since i already have the farsz.
Syed Raza Jul 2020
An ideology hinged on a majoritarian belief

Upon a diverse pluralistic society impinge

To despots, this hideous exploit alone shall bestow relief

While the nation is in a state of singe


Around plots woven to demolish or lynch

Were thoughts steeped in, blasphemy and intolerance

Yet the rightist ideologues never did wince

As the end justifies the means in their parlance


Exuding triumphalism over electoral gains

Shrouded in patriotic fervour evoked

Promise of a shrine on the agenda reigns

To be built, on a rubble of communal passions stoked


Riding roughshod over mass sentiments outright

Legislating a law, never was so facile

Constitutional tenets confront an obliteration fright

In the face of an opposition docile


Ever since voices of dissent got typecast

Imperative it is to wear patriotism on the sleeve

Stakeholders of an erstwhile state were bypassed

In comatose lies the valley, by the regime deceived


A surge of compassion for persecuted from distant shores

With the exception of Islamist, all shall naturalization gain

A parochial Act causing a nationwide uproar

Hope this uprising restores democratic checks and balances again
who, the, ****, brings, a book, into, a forest?! it's like these people living in the desert forgot, "somehow"... this fertile land of Europe is what? formerly sand dunes and fantasy? you know how much effort it took to uproot these trees and make this land fertile for a harvest?! like... this is a forgetfulness?! because the sands were easy and the mountains that were before them?! you ******* **** ****** ITES... this... this?! was easy?! to turn the forests of Ukraine into the bread basket of the world?!

Uzair! Uzair! you ******* myopia glue
to glass!
Ooh: Zer!
not ******* Za'ir
you ******* plonker...
check your goggles
make sure they're not sunglasses...

for ****'s sake...
that stubble is no beard!

and if i were to give all this
up
for some cougar ***
on Kauai
with suspicions of psychopathy...

but i did nothing to the girl

FAUN
FAUN
there's the labyrinth there's:
Leopold Göth (Amon):
i'm tired of being the "good guy"
in the lexicon of American
English with
equations of winners
and losers

like mortality is this antithesis
of a sickness of this tongue
this scribble...

so i wandered into the forest
no... no psychological parody, please,
i'm into the racist nuggets
and nothing could,
quiet match up to:

UZAIR!
you ******* goggle eye my
******* google or GANDU
what?!

so...
i took the sin bin approach...
walked into the forest...
found my artifact of antithesis
monotheism
for which the newly arrived
tribes of polytheism
weren't too, too... sure
about...

beside Amir and Ahmed and
Hah'med...
MEDI-TERA-EAN...

the ******* looking at
me all blank:
you ******* Sudanese donkey
bring sprout:
stop coughing up useless
phlegm at me!
******* Jewing ****!

yeah: constricted language usage:
MAtthew will *******
hear you and pass it onto the STASI
police...

"**** me, like i had some sad
sort of wriggling hand of authority..."

NETTLES...
NETTLES...
baptism by nettles
pinch puncture: will do...

i feel... alive!
if not mint in my mouth then
nettle teasing on my fingertips
which is not akin
to the Swiney Tricksee Canadian
bull...

      oh the *******?!

here you are: castrated and de-bollocked
if you were ever to be asking
but grandma grand hag
i took

my spintzer mah fizzle
you never
know, truly,
how to, dissociate the Germanic
from the Saxon
to the English: ping ping
almost "pre-history":
like Sudanese is the Lingua Franca...

what the **** Uzir...
Uz I Air Ear...
one ******* ear?!
one ******* ear?
i stomached ancient Romans:
oops... long gone...
the Jews are still here:
renegade in genocide...
you people ought be sleeping...
but you're still here...
so let's assume you are the genuises
while i conferred with
St Andrew and came up with:

with all the thyme, oregano...
mint is to the mouth
and lips
what NETTLE is to body...
MINT-NETTLE...

    if you were me and you see
the compulsion of having children
without having any
subjective attachment
you might know
how to credit
and differentiate and how to:
put the **** to locker by tow
and toughening: a together...

or via: i walked into the forest
and what came missing?
my shoes
my sunglasses...
possibly my ego...
if this was the appropriate time
i applied a deodorant of itch
where mint was missing

itching body itching fingertips!
why i, wasn't allowed to
be an SS-man! why?!
such a ****** affair of...
"ambitions"...

you call this good existential advertisement?
like some ****** Schmuck
Chopin wannabe
wht ******* concerto: NOCTURNE...

i've been grinding metal like
culminating in paradoxical thing-thinking:
from a diamond
to graphite of scribble...
no itch to etch on stone...
hmm... i do... begin to realize...
relish...
the Hebrews should have followed
suite akin to:
the Assyrians becoming: Syrians...
the Romans becoming: Italians...
the Greeks becoming: Russian...
the Raj nee: Raj... whatever...

Matthew Matthew MAtthew...
thank **** i don't use my second name,
no one's seconding...

but i did walk into the forest and played
a very rare instrument of purpose...
dead tree is a guitar...
pillar of giggling when
there is smoke, and fire...
and a wooden stick as bow...
i clamored for the indentation of echo
and hollow...

what did i receive?
i can't remind her, Edie,
of the terrible men in her life...
but i can't suffocate with all this
revival and hope for:
by simply: being: good...

i left the forest having foraged for
baptism in the nettle
like any Roman centurion... good: to: go...
i foraged for feeling
i foraged for music
i foraged for touch
i foraged for aloofness
i foraged for:
egocentricity
and politics...

          turns out the Israel of formerly-known
Hebrew is more alive in north Amjerica
than in Europe:
i'm glad ISlaam came to Europe...
there's nothing to defend
not scripture no nothing...
i welcome Islam within the abode
of threat of the ergonomic
and work:

ha ha: even Socrates didn't invent
a philosophy of work...
Heidegger teased at the idea: prospect...
of people talking metaphysics while
compulsively averting
that not sold mantra of:
ARBEIT MACHT FREI...

oh sure... the universe is a clepsydra
of nuance and parody...

but i did walk into the forest
and scrubbed my body like a baptism
or like any reverent Islamist
before prayer...
i scrubbed by body with nettles...
because i had no mint in my mouth
to give me Pavlovian giggles
of ooch ooch pouch a kangaroo:
indigenous
the ******* ****-worshipers
want to do with a "decapitation"
of a limp... ****?

it's not that i don't enjoy women
but...
there's enjoying and there's: "enjoying"...
mantra of the polytheistic
and polygamy and the harem!

*******
*******
*******

let me just grinder my reindeer
and army of metal
and we'll be sorted... savvy?!

— The End —