Adios England's Venus flytrap
May you ever overflow inside our rectums
You were the ornament that inserted itself
Where spunks were pelted to pieces
You ******* in the open air to our promontory
And you squirted to those inside *******
Now you reciprocate to Abraham's *****
And the black holes crack spew out your barber's pole

And it seems to me you tasted your *****
Like a cigarette lighter in the diarrhoea
Never drooping with knobs on the cherry lips
When the ooze congeal within
And your smells will always regurgitate here
Along England's juiciest blast—offs
Your cigarette lighter's exploded spew out long before
Your whiff ever go the whole hog

Voluptuousness we've jiggled
These frenzied wombs of time needing your clenched fist
This lava lamp we'll always get pregnant
For our breed's fair—haired brats
And even though we have a finger in
The clean breast seduces us to moistness
All our foghorns cannot ****
The ecstasy you stimulated us throughout the age groups

you say it's not about the ***
but the declaration does nothing
to ***** the boiling terror
to shoo away that yawning hole
digging deeper and deeper
into the root system of my ribs
tilling the lush soil that is
my traitorous stomach
and ever shrinking lungs
it uproots me
grinds the stump where I once stood
a towering oak
or was I only ever a sapling
that was snapped in half
severed the exact moment
that the floodgates opened
and the raging storms remnants
poured forth unshackled by the walls
I carefully constructed around my trembling heart
how I screamed when they fell
the resounding crash
of my fingers digging into your back
pulling you closer
and closer
I can't stop wanting you closer
to inhabit that feeling
the safety of a harbor in a storm
you somehow can protect me
from the radioactive wasteland
that I am still traversing
dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy
and alpha particles heavy with the
black hole that swears it will consume all of me
its final sacrifice demanded my life
how can I trust this?
when the reality of the matter is
you are no lead apron
absorbing the radiation for me
some kevlar vest that can ever protect me
from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward
not to mention grenades thrown my way
by wayward neural firings
which find me craving my blood
a box of razors is
a box of friends
and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane.
you could be snatched from me
you are a small worm on
the biggest hook to make the juiciest
most succulent amuse bouche
for a big world of sharks
how ******* stupid am I
to be a fisherwoman who has
fallen in love with her bait?

Inside the darkest garden
in this castle of
roots and knots
                  with ancient shadows
                      that come out to dance
                         in consistent moonlit thoughts
where my body starts
                     to swirl and sway
                     my spirit stirring free
inside the bones of
                underground caverns
where I have found
the once –buried remnants
           of me
Here.      
Antiquated magic
            is rediscovered              
next to dark-aged
weapons of layered rust
in the ghosts of the tears
of the collapsing fears
           that quaked the bridges of trust
where the unlikely
traces of self-love
never did really die
and despair in its
quiet torrents
prepares to release and fly
        
Here.          
I embrace the night
               in its fullness,
drink it up
          like temple wine
accepting all the dark within me
letting its light fill me
in vibrations,
              divine
In most scintillating strength,
my inner swords enhanced
in sharpness,
                in potent length
before my armies
                       advance

Here,              
in wild mossy corners
the blackest of berries grow
round and perfect, on
the edge
                     of bursting
revealed only to those who know
that clandestine language
of echoes of loneliness
that wander breathlessly
                           and roam
clutching their essence
                           to hold it safe
over the soil and loam
Now minerals sparkle in the
                       rich, dark earth
atoms of crystal
and stone

Here.
In this darkest
oasis of seeming nothingness
glows a
      single tree
bearing the juiciest
        of fruits
    now dripping
  just for me
and as my hunger
pours up
from the roots
propelling me in sacred trance
I find myself
gazing up in wonder
letting down
          my warrior stance

I slowly take off my armor
freeing up the fullness
of *******, of thighs, of hips
to allow that emotional
         fruit liquid
to nourish me from
core to fingertips
and to catch that ripeness
     about to spill
goddess voices calling
"Yes, woman. Now"
I, with reverence
     with honor
take on that sacred vow
tip back my head
let the quartz-snapped
air into my lungs
let that liquid
slake my ache
and,
in moaning silence
grace my
     tongue

Sister wants the jewels
Brother eyes the deed to the house
Aunt Jan covets Grandma’s wedding ring,
She has for years.
Uncle Ted asks about the furnishings.
Casually.

Like carrion beetles we swarm
seeking the juiciest bits for ourselves.
Masking avarice with feigned grief

I will do
these amazing
things, just for you...

I will go to the nearby garden
of my neighbour, and steal the juiciest
fruits, the tastes of which contain
the wondrous tales of the trees,
you will be so excited to listen to
the tale of the mother parrot, who tasted
every Guava, and took the bite only from
the sweetest part to share with her children.
This neighbour might come after me carrying
his stick, but any risk can be taken, for our fruity
moments of togetherness, when we will sit cuddled,
and munch on fruits making surpy-surpy sounds...

I will make an orchestra
consisting of singing bulbuls,
koyals, pigeons and sparrows,
and will not say no to any
bird or animal who wants to join in.
For example, crickets and monkeys,
can join in, and even happy wolves with
their hoo-hoos. We should not say no
to anyone, because although our orchestra
may not sound well, but everyone
should be happy, everyone has a heart
which must not be broken...

Then, there will also be a dancing DJ for
the Sur-Suri Dance of the snakes,
for the Halli Dance of the dogs,
(originated from Hallaq Kuttaq,
their great-grandfather),
also some monkeys will be allowed
to swing their hips, all for your entertainment,
Some hyenas may also do yip-yip-yip,
and cry and laugh, laugh and cry,
but you mustn't be afraid then,
for these hyenas are also pals...

for you see for this day everyone
is our friend, the whole universe
is our friend, love flows like a waterfall,
for we are in love...

© Manan sheel.

Might I partake? I do say I shall help
myself to these delicious treats.
That is, the misfortune of others.
Alas, I cannot hold back in general
for they are addicting. I prey
on the weak for they are
the juiciest. My glands have been
salivating for far too long
and I feel that what little self-control
I have left shall be consumed
by this overwhelming desire
of feasting off others' unhappiness.
True, it is callous of myself to divulge in
such travesties that do not require
my presence, but I ask myself: why not?
It seems only fitting to devour that which brings joy.
Clasping my hands followed by a devious smile,
I shall hunt for these misfortunes, hoping to wither
someone down until they're nothing
more than an empty shell.

i saw dark gods walking the earth
tall strong broken women and men
with hearts connected and on fire
i saw children playing in peace
and growing in love
i smelled health and abundance
in the winds of change

what should we do when
doing is outdated?
we shall lie upon a mountain
and call out to the heavens
and drink nectar from only
the juiciest of fruits and
realize our Truth and sameness

we made music so we could remember
our true selves we wrote
poems and moved our bodies
to rhythms no one ever knew
i saw our lands overflowing with
the milk we extracted and
pasteurized and bottled
and delivered but never drank
being intolerant of the lacking
flavor in dry white toast

we are the very lands we
couldn’t bury our ancestors in
we couldn’t let anyone
take the seeds they’d sewn
the ancient ones
the ones who planted the seeds
for us seeds that overpopulated
an unsuspecting nation
on the brink of collapse

Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Which fruit is the juiciest of all.
Round and oval,
With a green crown and a red mantle,
A rainbow of colours! Red,
orange, yellow,green  and purple,
Big and small,
Tomatoes are juiciest of all.
The redder, the better,
More healthier.
Full of tiny seeds,
What, a delicious curry needs.
Used as veggies,
A fruit it is.
Tomatoes a day,
Keeps the risk of heart disease away.
Full of vitamins C and K,potassium and folate,
Helps against cancer like prostrate.
Pick them fresh at a go,
Have a feast on this tomato,
Barbeque chicken and chips with salad and sauce of tomatoes,
Dissipates all your woes.

As with any person that comes to the city
others will say of him that he came to be
where the action is, looking for his share of the spoils
but the truth is, he came to put on his suit and toil

more than most newcomers here
he knew already what skyscrapers were:
a daywatch to guard the sun from you
and leave you long shadows to walk through—

even on his shaded way to the ad firms
he slides on his sunglasses, he squirms
through the crowds relishing a moment
of thick silence in a packed elevator, as if sent

on a mission to happy anonymity—
but to die at this point would be a cliché
he thinks, and goes to the shiner to shine his shoes black
black, color of the pavement, the suit, the tie and the hat

black, the color of the plush bruise
in an apricot’s skin, the fruit he adores
taking his time to pick out the finest,
juiciest, softest, the freshest

but this man! you would never know it
seeing him walk in the street
seeing his sunglasses over his eyes—
it’s only apricots that separate his from yours or mine

barely two inches of sugary meat
and some skin to get stuck in the teeth
eventually spat onto the sidewalk—
rubbed by passing shoe soles into a grayish spot

I find very little encouragement
to live my life these days,
it used to be different when I was ten.

I remember walking down this street
humming and skipping in full joy,
Like I had the juiciest fruit in all of the world
and that fruit held secrets,
carrying more than just sweetness,
It was big, golden and shiny
I think that fruit was my heart,
It was always so full.
Almost overflowing
with sickening sweetness,
exasperating energy
and a sticky smile that was always there.

I would dance around, walk fast then slow
I would roll around, talk so loud then low.
It sickens me now.
Why was I like that ages ago?
What made me so excited about life?
To wake up every day and just....live?

It sickens me even more
That I can't have that again.
It also confuses me
because what is human life
if not a change after change after change?

You have cut me up
and placed me beside other
shinier, redder apples.
you've given disapproving glares
and shaken your head,
arms akimbo.

You're trying to keep me in a box,
away from the "dangerous" world outside
but then you'd shake your fists
at my browning flesh
and putrid body.

I'm just an apple.
Why can't you see me for what i am?
I'm not the biggest
nor the juiciest.
I have yellow spots on my skin
and bruises on my flesh.

Why don't you love me?
Why can't you stop
comparing
and judging
and complaining?

You are my apple tree.
you made me.
Why can't you see
I'm trying
to be the best apple
that i can be?

It's not enough.
it's never enough.

I'm. Not enough.
and i never will be.

To her he was love personified, sweet lover
but if you think there ends his troubles of amour
you need to read this narrative to the end.
He would make her bathe in cranberry juice
and feed her the juiciest of peaches and plums
from morning till night, if strawberries and
luscious mangoes become too much for her.
She made him read poetry aloud till their
hearts break in sweet pain,Sappho's poems made
his eyes moist, but she cries aloud, often inconsolable.

At one point fed up being his lap dog
she attacked him tooth and nail, still her love intact,
showering kisses all over his naked chest down.
He laughed taking credit to be the cause
of her true enlightenment,letting her to be herself.

Night was spreading her venom in their veins
and it started to show it's effects as animal instincts
the tigress in her woke up, stretching to full length,
stared at his flesh, hairy broad chest, athletic legs, and groin
then after the play thoroughly exhausted and drained
she rolled to the other end of the bed, the monster
named angst keeping awake in the darkest corner
taking in all  with fluorescent eyes, sprung up on him
bit, scratched, mauled and wounded, as much as it wanted,
he was dazed, didn't scream, fought bitter tears like always.

During mass on Sunday mornings
we would recite the Act of Contrition,
a prayer to request forgiveness of sins.
In humble voices, we asked for absolution
from God and from each other,
before the priest blessed the eucharist.
Most of our sins were encouraged in a world on fire,
but we owned up to them every week.
Hatred of our brothers and sisters,
the best drugs and the juiciest hookers,
these were our only escapes
from the bosses, the bills, the tax collectors.

Sin was how we stopped the perpetual slide
into total madness,
and the Act of Contrition,
that was how we kept our sins
from eating us alive.

Your small, fleshy, red fruit, hidden neath your flesh,
and the protuberance of your smooth pit, entice me
into submission.. And your flavor is the sweetest,
juiciest, tastiest fruit ever..

.

It’s better than chocolate cake
drenched in whipped cream
A day off to sleep in
almost until noon
A warm summer day
near a slow moving stream
The stars in the sky
and a smiling moon

The juiciest steak
prepared medium rare
Seeing your team
win the championship
Watching a kite
as it floats in the air
Making a milkshake
and taking a sip

A trip to the beach
with a cooler of beer
Skiing the slopes
on a fresh coat of snow
Expecting rain
but then finding it clear
It’s so much better
I want you know

In case you wonder
what all of this means
What you now see
in the phrases above
Nothing, not even
my wildest dreams
Could ever be better
than feeling her love

It’s been a year
And I still don’t know how to feel.
Sometimes I feel elated.
Out of all the girls,
All the plums,
I was the ripest, the juiciest.
I spread across his tongue
As a smile spread across his lips.

Sometimes I feel empty.
Like he had
Taken away a part of me.
A certain innocence
So rare, so valuable, so hidden
Not even the best criminals
Could steal it back.

Sometimes I feel fragile.
My bones replaced by porcelain.
They forgot to wrap me
In bubblewrap.
They forgot the
Handle with care sign.
I shattered at his feet.
I crunched under his boots.

Sometimes I feel depressed.
Any light I had
Has darkened.
Any fire has
Been snuffed out.
I am nothing more than smoke.

Sometimes I feel tired.
Like it takes too much energy to live.
I’m not strong enough
To live.
To push through.
My organs are too heavy.
I am too heavy.

Sometimes I feel happy.
When I forget about that night.
When I forget about the bedroom floor.
The popcorn bowl.
The army of whispers
Assaulting my ears.
When I’m alone with a book
Full of poems.
When I shed this skin,
The one with burn marks and
Moth holes,
I’m happy.

Bless those Executives thrive you en masse
Whose Assets strive your Esteem promote
Whom with Percentage page their Profits cast
And leave a Question on your Inner Note
Yet by Reason does Economy dwell
Such Talent alone cannot propagate
But - Family's Cause a Noble Heart sell
Is all too deeming to incastigate
So all was naught for your Robin's Cage win
With one but sole worth mystifying Dame
Oh well! Courage drink their Juiciest Sin
And Scanted Virtues are one and the same.
That is a Fact. Your Stark Image survive
Flow with the Flow; And clip your obvious Hide.

Tell us tell us
Confide in us your tale
Us, we hungry ranvenous reporters
Who scavenge your lines for
Every private inch of you yet
Let us fester and spread in your gossip
Entrust to us your secrets
So we can discard them freely unto the world
The detail, the detail every last bit of it
Tell us tell us, feed our bottomless mouths
Lies and truth they are all the same
Feed us feed us!
Your rumors, we are to blame
And once we have it all
When we are filled, bloated
With your shame and your disgrace
We shuffle on for another victim
To pick at and argue over who gets the juiciest bits.
So trust in us, we harbingers of deceit.
Brings us your secrets
And we will feast

_Going back
and forth >>
The dark
pool jaw shark
Darth_(War)teared

Her drink feared
The moon split
Two people

Crook/Brook-Streams

Spilled water-soul
words
the Grecian river
Thorn Rose
birds

Will I return?

Devil dug
Deep- thought
Millionaire swamps
2B streamed
Suddenly

Forestal sweetness
FLipping homes
Hopscotch jump
Flipper Gumps
Mister brook the 
 measles
Water spots
How her foot met
Sunny-side
Eggbeaters
Morning 2 B Sure?
Turning-star
Cornered-shore
A sure pleaser
Cheater's foot
The river of
no return
(Monroe)


She is so perpetual
returning
in his
fantasy
everything

Misery
loves cooks
Baked tan
brooks
company

Poetical downright
mystical rivers
Joan of Ark

All bricks to blow her
home down dark
He's the Adonis
Superlative
most bodeful

The bridge over
***** war of
her laundry
In Cahoots,
Tired torrential rain
Tranquil water
Streaming air

Glorious shape
Her brook

But he is
never by
her shore
Not even once
to stare or look
Water Wands
of faires

So many
***** men
Drinking the
Holiest
water
Mrs, clean
Cult life
Stepford Wifes

Her cheeks like petals
Estee Lauder eyes of
Blue velvet
Lady Brook the banks
of the channel;

No contamination
water
Channeling
Like finest truffles
By the water riffle

So Shallow
Abdominal water
Hurricane shakey
Speaking
words
of wisdom wishing well

Streams overloved
Still, Diana Wales
running reliving
Lucky charms
they're married

Orange segments
Water the juiciest
Be calm
Nick the Knickpoints

Mister and Mrs. beds
The high tide
of turbulence

Poems are
all a stream
Our oasis
Deer Creek
came to
Love her more
than he
could ever seek

I used to bleed everyday; I was the juiciest ******* the block.
I'd wrap you up, wide armed. I used to
    spit
        and clamor;
            and feel
                and fight
                    and ****.
I miss the taste of your sour milk mouth, your breath against my neck.
I miss being shielded from the wind
I miss the wind.
These days, I feel so tangled
    and still;
        broken
            and blistered
                and bound.
There's no honey anymore;
no charm,     no silk,     no gut.

Babylonia : Part Four - A Babylonian Paradise


Come in, come in, all are welcome!
Welcome to Babylonia!  Welcome home.
Every animal is welcome here,
You can be yourself;
You have no need to fear.


Babylonia has always and shall always be here.
The place for all animals, when they wish to retire.
Tired of the rat race?  Need something better?
Then Babylonia is for you friend, there is no place I’d rather
Spend the rest of eternity in;
I’d like to introduce you all to my wife and kids.


I am Groat, the goat and we have very lush grass.
Feel free to help yourself, to whatever you come across.
The world is your oyster; your greed is your clam.
This is paradise and you are all welcome.


Jungle to your left, ocean to your right;
Mountains beyond the valleys behind me.
Open your eyes to your new paradise!
Over a million trees and every day you will meet a new species.
It isn’t **** or be killed,
But I understand some of you have a need.


So hunt your prey,
Or raise a family.
Live your lives,
However you want them to be.


You can see through the water on a sunny day; I love the smell
And forget the pollution…This is Heaven, not Hell.
Whatever you wish for is yours if you can find it my friends;
But this Heaven is so large you shall never reach the end.


Eternal life here in paradise;
Generations of families sit together to talk at night.
Let us all be one great family,
Or let us all at least do as we please…
Then we shall be free.


The fruits of Eden’s vine are nothing compared to our fruit.
The juiciest, tastiest, manna sent from Heaven.
You are now all free to do whatever you choose.
I am simply here to welcome you all in…
My Friends;
The Animals.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

They main-lined memories,
Cooked up,
Or reheated their juiciest reminiscence,
Over fresh drip coffee and burnt toast in the kitchen.

They played the what-if game joyfully,
And injected the good, the bad and the impossible
Into their long walk
Down to the train station.

Retelling- hell,
Anthony and Emily
Rewrote their history together
With a laugh.

What if we’d had girls instead of boys, she asked,
What if we’d worked for somebody else, he remarked
Be a lot richer Emily chuckled,
And maybe a big pension too, Anthony replied,

And they snorted out loud and squeezed
Each other’s hands so tight
It felt like they were holding on
To life itself.

The only regret I have, said Emily,
Is the number of ice cream sandwiches
I stuffed in my mouth.
My *** could be half the size it is now.

My only regret is that *** isn’t twice as big, Anthony replied
So there’d be more of you to love
And lot more for me to hang on to!

It was an old joke,
Hell they’d performed it a million times.

But truth out…
They still ****** like teenagers
Only now with the kids gone,
They could be loud.
Jesus, the dog hid downstairs,
Or barked seriously
Like thieves were breaking in.

God-****** a good scream felt **** good,
And the hard work warranted some
High pitched celebration.

Hell between the banged up knees,
The stubborn like a mule hips,
And a ***** with attention deficit disorder,
A bit of applause at the end of it all,
Was a genuinely appreciated gesture.

It's the kind of thing,
Couples in for the long haul
Do all the time.

To deny ones tendencies is foolish,
they will escape sooner or later.
the build up is dangerous.

so,
****,
pluck,
finger,
and ****.

Just remember,
hunger will only suffice when you learn the truth of the world.

The bloodiest,
wettest,
juiciest part of the ****,
is the heart.

Lip balm - so that my girlfriend can kiss the juiciest lips.
Face cream - so that she can pat the most tender cheeks.
Hand cream - so that she can feel the most gentle touch.
Eye cream - so that she can look into my sparkling eyes as much
as she'd likes.
Hair balm - so that she can adore my very soft hair.
That's why I do the skincare...