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Ysabel Jun 2017
I saw you staying late at night,
in your small dark room
staring at your ceiling
asking for answers.

That day, I saw you getting anxious
at your office around nine.
'Coz your hot headed Boss yelled at you
because you failed to send invites.

Yet I know you did your best,
staying behind just to finish
the letters, the inputs,
the programs even the script.

The bags in your eyes get bigger every night,
While you cram to send it all.
Your eyes get watery, you become jitty,
But no one knew because you accepted the call.

I saw all your hardworks.
I saw all you pains.
I heard all the belittlings.
I heard all your pleas and cries.

Yet despite all these,
You're still here fighting.
Finishing the fight you've started.

The rope is no longer hanging,
Those blades are now kept.

To the girl who thought of death lately,
I salute you for being brave!
Live life despite how hard it may seem.
sheila sharpe Nov 2020
shewereasnarrerasanarrer, but with cleavage to die fer
so she dressed in fancy spanks from Marks ‘n Sparks
‘cos she’d gorra job as earned hersen a bucketful of dosh
typing  jobsheets fer the Faktreh’s Senior Clerks
Now one parky Sat’dy neet,
our Peg the padgeowl chanced to meet
an Irish navvy wi a twinkle in ’is eyes
and ‘though Peg judged him as a Yokel
still she took ‘im dahn ‘er local
where they podged theysens
on stout and chips and pies
but Paddy got right larroped
‘as down the jit they galloped
and, chucklin’ sed  “now gisagleg
what’s behind them fancy skanks
did yer gerrem from them Yanks?”
but Peggy only showed a little bit o’ leg
but the navvy cut up ruff, and said “that’s nor ennuff!
I’ll ‘ave the rest – and I’ll ‘ave it right ere!”
but Paddy, tight jobber, never bought a dobber
and as weeks passed it soon became clear
to Paddy, the digger, that Peg’s waist  was gettin’ bigger
so, when Peg said, with a tear and a sigh
“There ain’t no bloomin’ daht
that you’ve got me up the spaht!”
Paddy skanked ‘er
- dahn the jitty - by and by!
A poem in Leicestershire dialect.  Read it out loud to get the effect please and let me know how you find it - oh, and have fun looking up all of the dialect words
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
evil comes to the conclusion
that:
           if it's not a res cogitans...
then there's
a res vanus...
         that's in need of being
filled!

             only recently my
algorithm reach for encompassing
a touch-with-a-"history"
has been blockaded...

      i find it harder and harder...
to view a video,
beyond the 2016 and the 2017
arena...

     A.I. is what gave us, man,
in an S. I. environment
                (synthetic intelligence)...
something that composites
a continuum,
     rather a stable posit to work
from...

        the easiest route of
miscarrying, exploitation;

   what? existentialism wasn't about
the hyper-exploitation
of punctuation marks?!

      dumb dumb d' dumb
  drum roll...           expectation.

god looks at the use of language,
per se,
   not at language, used,
with a per se, and a subsequent
usage of,
             without a per se!
                            becauase, how on earth...
am i to make a humanist
statement...
                 by "over"-complicating
the said, use,
                       of using language?

can poetry even become a mediator?!
membrane!
                    well, **** me!
hands tied behind my back scenario?!
            tiananmen sq. "whoopsie"?

death by a riddle...
  or death by pachelbel?
    ****'s left to right right to left
when using the basic hand-"gesture"
of expressing a papyrus
          "tattoo" of a handwriting?

eek-onk?!
yes... becauase there are no
pigs in the desert...
  which i buzzfeed use
to offset a lack of salt...
       ******* copper,
brazen with melt choc. "aura",
sultry quacks of a melody
requiring a choir
             of transgender *******!

can't exactly look at a sunset
having "acquired"
the current socio-pathos
conformity narrative...
it's like watching
a really bad hopak aversion
to a take on performing
ballet...

    oh... so bad for the toes of
ballerinas...
    what about the cossack knees?!

never mind the handerchief...
what about chaos theory,
butterfly, hurricane...
                 and the sneeze?!

surely the world cannot be
unfathomable,
yet fathomable...
   within the confines of
a metaphor...
              a non-"literal"
      ascription of: losing count
of the number of given examples...

A.I.?
  what? the argument to express
putting a ****** on
a circumcised phallus?!
   i don't mind...
but owning a phallus not
circumcised...
   stop basing your intellect
on me jerking off...
      S. I.: synthetic intelligence...

       ha ha...

  putting a ****** on a circumcised
phallus...
          
              i like that...

  no wonder the ones with
circumcised *****...
  do not know how to express
pleasure from a ****, jit-jitty-jittery
one-off with jamaica in mind...

to always require a woman?
must be painful...

             learning from my
grandfather... and the *****
of a mouth that constitutes my grandmother?

            go through that one
with me, one more time...

                 so...

                no *******?
       and you wear a ******?
      and it's not latex in being wholly
****** clad in it?

                          guess only the ones
with an intact ******* can
play the part of an audience...
and even, remotely, enjoy
the dutch spectacle of watching
***** without a Cain-induced
grievance...

                             harsh though...
circumcising...
    and even remotely,
      implying a second tier of an impetus
to miscarry
the original:
     well... i hope i'll receive
an epitaph "marred" by an inscription
set to stone....

          any argument from
the non-circumcised party of women
wondering about my final
statement on the relief that
comes with: no. 1, no. 2... and no. 3?
f.g.m.
   is probably the only "answer"...
you'll ever, get.

— The End —