"jun" poems
Original English version: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/skyrim-3/
Zu'u lost ont jul zulot fein naan vorey jul,
Midrak zoklot zurun Zu'u stood, veyn pogaan ran.
Nii lost Zu'u wo fund krii sahrot dovah, ahrk zind uben vokul jun,
Ko svaan snol ahrk geikaal mund, nust fund heind dii for ahrk mirodah!
Zu'u lost ahst wah do lein, ahrk nid vust knock zey tum!
Fah dii sos nust came, nuz ko niist siifur nust drowned,
Zu'u lost hailed *** ko dii nor ahrk zoor ko suleyksejun!
Sahrot Lahvirn neben lot lokoltei, voth zey ahst niist zurgah,
Morokei lost golt mu tread voknau, lok bex ahrk stin!
Zu'u nuft wah kos undoriik med you…
But ruz Zu'u rem ronaaz wah krahsek.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
‘Hemphu’ and ‘Mukrang’
Created this world!
We were born under the ‘Amora tree’
from the egg of ‘Wo Plak Pi’.
Then ‘Sum’ and ‘Sang’ trained us,
Edify us ‘karjong is everywhere’
It is there in air, soil, water, plant, animal.....
Every where!
So we must have admiration for them,
Must nurture and protect them!
Hearting ‘Krjong’ is a crime!
Now everywhere
There is a Chaos!
Rain fades away
Forest disappears
‘Ingnar’ and ‘Bongkrui’ar
are suffering from starvation!
Searching food here and there!
Now everywhere
There is a bedlam!
‘Hanthu’ and ‘Mehek’ are wane
Searching them in day and night!
How we prepare food for ‘Thong Nokbe’!
Now ‘Hi-i-Arnam’ is wandering
Everywhere!
Call everybody
Organize ‘Cho-jun’
to Keep karjong everywhere!
Call one and all
organize ‘Rong Arnam’
To shield karjong everywhere!
Call everyone
organize ‘Wophong Rongker’
To protect ‘karjong’ everywhere!
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
Ye evar 'eard oda' masta' inna swamps?
E'a man hund wid 'is hands. . .take down a gator inna fide?
Yeah ah-boy, he a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Issue you'a hundin' widout a ricel? You's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Ain't nah trapping, nor'a line, no kedjewel, or time,
-jussa' body inna swamp you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Swimmin' inna wad-eh got skin made-o' armah,
-inna mud, inna grasses, eh-no teachin' it in classes,
strike wid juss a knife inna hand he's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Issue you'a hundin' widout a ricel? You's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
No ricel, no Glock, no light out innna night,
-jussa' body inna swamp you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
If you's can **** widout a ricel you's a Bone Alligator,
Bone Alligator
Bone Alligator.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
*The total number of days between Thursday, June 17th, 1993 and Wednesday, June 17th, 2015 is 8,035 days .
This is equal to 22 years,excluding the end date, so it's accurate if I am measuring my age in terms of days, or the total days between my birth date and my birthday. But if for the duration between my birth date and my birthday, today,then it is actually 8,036 days.
In terms of workdays and weekends, there are 5,739 weekdays and 2,296 weekend days.
If I include today Jun 17, 2015 which is a Wednesday, then there would be
5,740 weekdays and 2,296 weekend days including both the starting Thursday and the ending Wednesday.
8,035 days is equal to 1,147 weeks and 6 days .
The total time span from 1993-06-17 to 2015-06-17 is 192,840 hours.
This is equivalent to 11,570,400 minutes
Further more 8,035 days are also equal to 694,224,000 seconds.
The nano seconds, the micro seconds, the minutes, the hours and the days have flowed by like water along a river, years have dissolved in thin air, going just before I seize the moments,such moments have escaped my grasp with the sands of time but there are things that in changing remain constant, the memories, the love, the sadness, the heartbreaks, the football team, the journey through and through and most importantly you my family and friends. I have this special day every year which I always use to thank all of you for bearing with me ,while I grew from that little boy whose loose shoe brought down the wall clock in primary seven while he was kicking chalk and consequently cried his way home contemplating the explanation for what had happened,to the young man dreaming of becoming a re-known Author and poet. From the lad who had to cram words to throw vibes, to one who hopes his words shall be used someday to tear down fortresses and conquer hearts.
Thank you all, I'm so lucky to have you and will always try to keep you all around as long as try can. Love you :) xxxxxxxxxx*
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
A Bountiful Sky for Foolish Old Men
early up, haunted-stoked~woked by a multilingual sky,
an impish childish creation of an immature god,
inconsistently incapable, of making up his moody mind,
whiny then smiley, cloudless besotted, morphed
into crystalline blue of a well behaved in Sunday best,
warming the souls of the begotten and the misbegotten,
the hardened and the poetic souls, tho he laughs at
himself, for he too is both, curmudgeon and a mr. softee,
whiny child in rapid aging body, wearing of discovery
of new places for to ache, pains that don’t fit med scales
of 1~10, unless it is the Richter Earthquake formulation.
despite all, his eyeballs seethe, immaculate degeneration still
allows the seeing of broad brush paint strokes of the team of
angelic artistes that do the detailing of the palette above,
how!
they, love their big bold brushes that sky swipe atmospheric
residue into 31 Baskin Robbins flavors, with swirls of caramel
chocolate butterscotch that make the man’s complaints whisked
into who-cares-a-damn anyway ice creamery reverie and all
that other stuff disbarred from the aborning morning clarity of
“good morning ole man, where’s my coffee” diurnal tuning that
the women hums, reminding those in the earshot crowd of one,
that s’mores and chores, tasks and at lasts, dogs need walking, gardens watering, cushions plumping, evening dishes moving from dishwasher onto wallpaper-covered shelves, geese-away-chasing, and loving poetry
by a poetoftheway scribbling…
8:01 AM Frieday, Jun 30
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 8:32 AM UTC
River of Red
Down float the cold dead
Rise to heaven those pure of heart
Evil sink to black depths unknown
River of red
Souls bob and weave
Angels gaze solemnly
Careful not to dip
Holy white robes
Blessed golden feet
Into inky depths of sin
River of red
Come now the parade
The recently expired
Among the creatures of the earth
On judgment waters, they glide
Justice rushing cold currents
River of red
Repost of a poem I cannot find on my page
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M Darby Jun. 6, 2014
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
"𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒊, 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈
𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏?"
"𝒀𝒆𝒔 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆! 𝑨𝒉 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚ㅡ𝒀𝒆𝒔, 𝑱𝒖𝒏!"
Magkamali man ang iyong labi
ng pangalang masambit
magkamali man ang iyong ngipin
ng pagkagat at pagbanggit,
sa dulo ng iyong pag-uulat,
ako pa rin ang bida at balitang isisiwalat.
"𝑺𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒑, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚-𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒚 𝒏𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒕, 𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆."
Itago mo man ang iyong mga tawa,
ikubli ang ngiti sa pag-ubo at paghinga,
ilibing mo man ang aking pangalan,
sa'yong dila at diwa ay nakaukit na ito
magpakailanman.
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 1:23 PM UTC
I am sorry for your pain
but I am not the cause
and seeing how you've treated me
I think I know what was
Dishonest in your ranting
as you're girlfriend and not wife
no wonder why he shies away
from unrelenting strife
Accusing without evidence
eschewing private mail
you castigate me publicly
as illogically you rail
Behaving with much cruelty
demonstrating zero class
you couldn't solve a mystery
if it bit you in the ***
18 Jun 2015
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
sweet waters with mint fragrant hints,
memories flood me,
"walking back in time"
he describes it
of my early days of discovery,
this voyage upon the poetry ship,
with me, mere stowaway,
unfit by compare,
sailed to lands unimaginable,
friendships seeded in words,
sprouted like a field of summer sunflowers,
water weeping, for joy so joyous,
the mastery of his words
elevates, levitates,
the ashes of sadness now dispossessed,
floating on the Ganges
the drumming of my dreams,
of treasures of golden words,
in lungs undiscovered, unspoken,
leads me back to you,
Balachandran from Thiruvananthapuram
April 10, 2016
~~~
Jun 1, 2013
Balachandran
How I love to say your name,
Rolling waves over my tongue,
It is must be said out loud
Two or three times to feel its rhythm,
Two or three more just for the
Spiced pleasure it conveys.
Bala chan dran!
My name harsh, Germanic,
Like the Black Forest,
Where my ancestors dwelled,
Until a harsher people drove them away.
Balachandran!
Under the ground beneath the temple
Padmanabha Swamy,
A temple dedicated to
Vishnu,
In the state of
Kerala,
the original spice country.
South Western sea board of India,
where miracles never cease to happen,
A billion dollar treasure discovered.
A treasure of words and sounds,
A language musical, every word a poem
Of incroyable elegance.
I am so glad that you were not born in France.
Perhaps someday I will courage summon,
To spicy lands, explore, and even come to
Thiruvananthapuram.
For now, I must be satisfied with the
Poetical musicale program I attend,
When I say over and over again,
Balachandran from Thiruvananthapuram!
Dedicated to K Balachandran
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
Thunder swept the sea,
The sky rained a nation's fate,
Great ships found their graves.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
Jane was given a year to live
Febricity, nausea and cancer would assist her through that year
Marching headfirst into this battle
Apropos of nothing, she packed up and left
Maybe she broke down, maybe she got up
Junction of her heart and mind, she was preparing to die whilst simultaneously starting to live
Julian Alps, Tianzi Mountains, Santorini, Petra, Machu Picchu, she saw them all
Augmented her mind
Separated her ignorance
October fell and she was hospitalized, the hospital was now her personal party with constant visitors
Novice to cancer no more, now she was the leader
Decease couldn’t stop her, she was alive
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
Thank you ,
for being who you are
Thank you ,
for fighting with so meanin' way
Thank you ,
for showin' me what box means
Thank you ,
for revealin' your strength in the boxing ring
Thank you ,
for makin' me stronger
Thank you ,
for your way of speakin'
Thank you ,
for refusing to participate to killing innocent people
Thank you ,
for being so patient in the prison
Thank you ,
for not lettin' everything go with the the 3yrs deadlines
Thak you ,
for teaching me what going on means
RIP
for this saddest day ever
Thank you
for this unforgettable day ever
03-jun-2016
.
.
.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Eleanor Jun 29 - Eleanor Aug 20
Residential Eating Disorder hospital,
No outside love[rs],
Mere minutes in the garden with the tall, tall fence,
Reminding me of a book of fairies, read once,
And not 14 years, could create an easy life for her,
Words, water-like, floated awkwardly, speaking "Oh this disorder? It's not hurting.",
Heaven made you this way- I cannot believe in religion anymore, it sends my mind murderously bare,
Your hair thinning quite badly,
Your blood beats up and down,
Your bones, brittle,
And your smile drowning in a frown,
I'll wait for our reunion,
A kiss upon your mouth,
Tell me that you're certain.
Tell me that you'll still be around.
\\
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
Come and look at my family
it’s big and rambunctious
they all mean a lot to me
theres lots of different branches
there’s a writer, called M. Rase
and David too
they’ve taught me things I never knew
but of course they all do
Im related to royalty
a king and a queen
Named Jose and Whispwill respectively
I wonder if they’ve met each other yet?
Then there’s determined Yuu
who shredded my heart with Blackberry Tea
some of them have hurt me, don’t worry though
I’m sure their OC's will be fine after all they’ve been through
R. Merryweather writes lots of things
there’s even a new series
next is Vel, with her apocalyptic mysteries
Ana and Kittie are new to the family
give them a big welcome when you see them
Rukan’s drawing a series, seki and keisuke are my OTP
Bob likes animals, she’s a skilled gal
I really miss Yuumei, Wave, and Jun Lee
but they’ll return someday, you’ll see
Kura updated recently, Nick brought me to tears
MAT and Ariel Ries crossed different boundaries
but everything will be alright
NaniRoxy's not around, she’s making some adjustments
so you’ll just have to leave a message
Viryse is in the hoodie brigade
with Yuu, Jose, and Kao too
GlanceReviver and KJ Tower
write exciting love stories
SnailLords is gone, but not really
he moved his web series such a tease
Captain Juuter and Kinkan Yoona
slice up life in different ways
this is badly written and doesn’t make sense
and I know its long but it needed to be said
and someday you can meet the rest of them
the rest of my big family
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
[Untukmu di Langkawi, 26 Jun 2018]
Beratus-ratus retakan kaca
tidakkan pernah imbang neraca
betapa berat hatiku menunggu
detik-detik tak berpenghujung
beribu-ribu detakan hati
takkan pernah akan ku lari
biar Bukowski dengan kebuntuan
biar Rimbaud dengan ketidaktentuan
akan hanya ada dirimu dalam
laci yang penuh dengan kepastian.
Berbatu-batu kau ke utara
begitulah rasa ini terawang-awang di udara.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
Inspired by Tonya Riddle,
Wife, Mother, Sister,
Nurse, Poet, Gardener,
and a
friend
<>
The littlest things you all say, the lightly remarked,
or weighty beloved ones, 100% guarantee a smile
or a tear, no difference, but all press me to grab
the nearest papyrus, to ink that notion, an
untimely timely near midnight revelation,
requiring a scribing to permanent-seal that moment’s
custom potion, via magnification.
It ain’t easy, kinda of reverse curse from
the many wintry months of the ‘tion’s absence:
motivation, inspiration, perspiration go
on a round-the-world cruise and when
they don’t invite you along, in-truth,
semi-secretly, poetry is kinda de-relevationed (less urgent)
For I have seen a picture, a memorial garden bounteous,
Jordan’s Garden,
so late night, kind words exchanged in reciprocation,
as we both stagger gently into sleep and a new
twenty-four, and here, and I hear, the realization
thoughts inescapable, demanding: creation, visitation,
& ****** a instantion ripening and
Fruition.
A lovely word this one, for it’s strawberry season
on the north fork of the isle, accompanied by
imported Carolina peaches,
and when the roadside farm stands offer them for
sale, included is a a couple of paper towel slices,
for the fruition juices runneth over
(stain stick not included)
So just before midnight, the electrons and (t)ions inform
that tonight, a calming of words, revelations of affection,
salve the grieving heart that runneth over
which surely was my intention,
as well as a celebration of commemoration, and in
calming you friend, my eyes wet, not realizing, that
I’ve written a smile upon my lips, a precursoration to a
rarity, a well and good night’s sleepy and hallowed
restoration.
7:47 AM Mon Jun 26
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 5:52 PM UTC
Empty Inside
F J McCarthy on Jun 17, 2009
Empty, hollow, nothing left.
The way I feel inside.
No substance there I am bereft.
With nothing left to hide.
Barren,stark, like windblown sand.
No purchase to be found.
Tossed about like a tumble ****
This world has worn me down.
Dried out ,hardened,like a stone.
I’m ready for the fire.
Burn me up till I am gone.
My soul can now retire.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 3:31 PM UTC
It’s August
School has begun
Lots of new faces
To the girl who sits alone
When September arrives
The trees change color
And the leaves begin to fall
As a boy and girl
Start to talk
In October
The trees are naked
The leaves no were to be found
As the boy and girl
Kiss behind the school’s playground
On November
Autumn ends and winter begins
The snow arrives
And he turns 15
She can not go to his house to celebrate
Winter brake
So, it’s December.
It’s a snowless Christmas full of joy
And she spends it with him
Come January
She turns 15
And they go to the park
They find a tree
Where they carve love forever
In the month of love, February
They sneak out
It’s a warm night
So they spend it under the moon
March
Spring has begun
But the blood flows
From the wrist of the girl
By a night gone wrong
On April
There are two months of school left
The boy and girl closer then ever
Just madly in love
School ends on May
But summer begins.
There is sadness in there eyes
How will they see each other every day now?
Jun and July
The two hottest months of the year
And the hardest of their relationship
They can not talk that much
Or see each other
It’s August again
A new school year
They go back to spending an hour before school together
Make up for the time lost
Nothing could be better
September brings bad news
She might have to leave the boy
She cries as he says
“It will be okay.”
October arrives
She has to leave sooner than what they thought
He holds her as she cries
They never say goodbye
They just keep their promise in their heart
That they will be there in two years
Ten months have gone by since that October
They still love each other
But they had to put aside the relationship
Because for this period of time
They are better of like friends
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 8:46 PM UTC
If someone were
standing on top of a mountain of sand (maybe on a camel, maybe with a cough)
along the Dead Sea at four this morning they might have heard
two voices
one accented thickly enough to leave an aftertaste,
one small forced into lower registers for old reasons echoed in new habits
bouncing along the water like insects, like light
“Talk to me in Hebrew” “Want
to see me walk on water?”
”I have the same handwriting as
my mother” ”Let’s start a religion”
“You can see it in the R’s”
”I was in a war” ”My shoulders
are turning brown”
“Summer is coming” “Your back is smooth”
”I don’t believe in anything” “I got on a plane”
“My fingers are salty” ”There’s
mud in my mouth”
“Your hair is blonder than yesterday”
“I don’t
love you”
If someone had been
standing on top of a mountain of sand (maybe itchy, maybe pregnant)
along the Dead Sea at four this morning they might have seen
two bodies
one white, one brown
floating on the surface, the light coming over the ripples like a thousand slaves carrying morning on their backs
one head on one chest, one palm on one shoulder
“Nothing can
live in this water”
“I’m trying”
Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 8:45 AM UTC
Sent Jun 29th, 12:10am
i just want someone to want me
to fall in love with my personality
and not the temporary
aspects of me
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
*Not so many moons ago,
You and I in a star-ship
Flitting amongst stars, gallivanting
Whilst remeniscing of moments
Indelible moments trapped in time
Only flying-by, eloping to Elysium
Fancying fair lands
Lands pervaded with flowers
Flowers blooming in perpetuity
Lands with rushing rivers
Rivers serpentining with nector
Lands with novelty sea shores
Shores veiled with diamonds
Lands enveloped by lustrous stars
Stars painting words of desire
Lands with halcyon seas
Seas as smooth as a millpond
Lands where the only air
There is to inhale is love
Lands where love is woven by
A tapestry of truth not lies
Lands where love isn't bought by
Sapphires, Rubies nor Emeralds
Lands where all avenues
Are paved with green and gold
Lands where mountains
Are golden-capped
Distant was the journey
Though at length,
For what seemed a life time,
Our eyes feasted on
And from a distance,
There we gazed about her
In all her splendor
Ravishingly alluring yet resplendent
With all chatoyance
One could ever imagine of
Like any one else would,
At a speed of an eagle
Descending about her prey,
Fervently we gravitated
Only to touch down
Than when the luster about her
Had our vessel*
combusted to ash!
© Kikodinho Alexandros
4th Jun 2016
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC