Gul Kak On A Walk..
Gul Kak.. You and Me did go on a walk..
On these roads where we had spent our youth and stalk,
These are the roads of our yester years,
When we were young and ye yet to see the light of days,
Many a times have we trampled these stormy roads,
Sometimes a laborer and often a coolie in many ways,
Our work was honest as honesty itself could be,
And earned a buck that fed our family happily,
Now on these same roads we do see,
Treacherous folks in the guise of nobility,
Ah these tramps don't remember HIM,
That sees all and knows all and the human whim,
Gone are those days of simplicity,
When our women folk would walk freely,
It is not the time that has changed,
But humans and its values deranged,
So we are come to the brink,
Where the roads end without any side link,
Gul Kak is sad to see it end this way,
That before long he asks his friends to take a walk the old way..,
If your soul is clean and heart so pure,
Come join Gul Kak in this walk for sure,
Gul Kak You and Me did go on a walk,
On those roads where we had spent our youth and stalk.

(By: Khan, BA)

Author's Note...
( Gul Kak is a fictional character, honest, patriotic and very much in love with his land. He is amazed at the way the time has changed and his land that he loves, has been razed. So, he takes a walk on the same roads… Down the memory lane.)

Gul Kak is a fictional character who is sad to see the change from the simple days to present larcenous ways

Halo kak Yoongi. Apa kabar? udah bobo ya? atau masih buat lagu?
Aku sayang banget sama kak Yoongi, maaf aku bukan Shakespeare yang pandai dalam kata, cuma mau ungkapin perasaan aja kayak orang lain.

Kak, kalo nanti ada kehidupan selanjutnya, aku mau banget jadi teman kak Yoongi, jadi musuh juga gapapa deh! tapi aku gak mau berantem! soalnya aku anak baik. Kak Yoongi tau gak sih katanya manusia itu made of stardust, tiap aku lihat ke langit berarti aku lihat bahan bahan pembuatan manusia ya? Kak Yoongi pernah dengar gak, kata orang dunia itu sempit. Tapi kenapa kita belum pernah ketemu? atau emang takdirnya aku tau kak Yoongi hanya dari layar hp? Pengen juga punya kesempatan buat kenal kak Yoongi lebih dekat! Nanti ya kak. Semoga aku bisa capai cita-cita aku. Tunggu.

Kyk met horlosie swaai
kom wysheid , op een of ander manier...

Wanneer hardebaard hardehout fyn skuur
en boeta begin skuim pis-
dan is dit mos als goed en wel...

Jy's nou volwasse en verandwoordelik
vir jou kak, vir my kak en sommer die kakbak...

... en dan mag jy mos nou nie bloedkook nie
want daardie potte kom moeilik skoon
en behoed jy kort van dtraad raak
want as iemand nie aan jou been trek nie - wel ja

maar soms kom  daardie klein
snotkoppie gees deur
as ander "volwassenes" vergeet
om die plooie die dag aan te plak.

Dan draai alles terug
en ek wens dat ek weer oud en koud
onder die kuwe kon raak,
want demoer in raak ek gougou
vir grootmens doeke en dommies.

Kyk  ,sommige kak
moet maar net kinderkak bly,
want as my kinderhart weer vlam vat
is ek weer die duiwel se kind.

Dan draai ***** en giggles vinnig om
en wys ek *** snaaks dit kan wees
as mense val en seerkry.

Laat ek nou maar asemhaal
my das regtrek en heut...
ek is nou groot,
moet mos eintlik van beter weet.

Trek my siel uit met swart onlogiese krapmerke op my pick n pay strokie.

Breek my fingers af op n hout skryf blad
en hou die honde naby vir die bene wat spat.

Vermergel dan my vellies
en gooi dit op n graf
en se dis vir al die girlys
-dis van papers wat smag.

Edel en opreg is die regter se kaf.
Heilig is die helde van die bars van die nag.
Ons onthou die spoke van Oranje stad,
Ons kleef aan hulle woorde soos n tros vol kak.
Ons hou van die serries en die doef van Jak,
En moenie met my stry nie ek sal jou in pak.

Melodie jou wysie met ewige tone,
mengel mooi jou woordtjies met jou oulike drome.
Hou die fort van veiligheid en nasionalisme,
Wees n patriot en vermoor Anglisisme.

Beskerm jou mother language teen n kombuis taal.
Daar is niks in hierdie wereld wat die taal mag vaal.

Ek kyk na die wiskunde geletterdheid vraestel
wat uittartend voor my le en skreeulag.
Elke vraag is nog 'n klap in my gesig
nog 'n uur wat ek in 'n warm stort moet gaan sit
om myself weer moed in te praat.

Ek het lankal reeds al die stetoskope
van my kinderdrome ashoop to gestuur.
Die laaste bietjie hoop uit my onskuld gekerf
toe hulle se dat ek die masjiene moet afskakel
en vir my spieel gaan se, dat ek dit nie gemaak het nie.
"Gee eerder op" lui die pedagoog se kreet.

"Jy hou ons terug seun" , vertel jy my
"as jy nou nog nie verstaan nie, sa jy
ook nooit nie. Gee maar op."
Ek was eers die boogseun.
*** verder jy my terug getrek het,
*** vinniger het my pyl op die teiken
af gestraal...
Nou is ek die rekseun... ek hou jou terug
en as jy trek, breek ek.

Jou ekstraklasse was te duur gewees,
ek kon nie my wiskunde angelegdheid bekostig nie.
Ek moes maar terugsit en kyk ***
ander skole met onderskeiding by jou deur uitstap.
Ek kon ongelukkig nie bekostig om slim te wees nie.

Onthou jy toe jy op daardie koue wintersdag
verby my gejaag het en my verskree het
oor die missie en serpie wat my net
aan die lewe gehou het?
Ek is jammer dit was nie jou kleur nie,
maar probeer verstaan...
ek is nie 'n onderwyser nie.
Wanneer jy huistoe kon gaan
moes ek my studentlike pligte uitvoer
en tot laatmiddag by die skoolbly.

Ek is jammer dat my ma werk.
Dit is tog so ongeskik van haar.
So selfsugtig om kos op die tafel te probeer sit
en so my verhoed het om aan sport deel te neem.
Ek weet tog *** belangrik sport vir jou is.
Jammer ek kon nie 'n meningvolle bydra
tot jou donnerse sportregime maak nie.
Jammer ek was 'n nuttelose suurstofdief
, soos wat jy my genoem het.

Eks jammer ek kon nie my punte
bekostig nie. My handgeskrewe take
en spoeg-en-plak plakate was 'n
vernedering tot die vlekvrye mamma-pappa-take.
Linte was in die mode.
Linte en ander oulike beursie plukkers.
Jammer dat ons beursies
leeg was, maak nie saak *** ons
daaraan prober pluk het nie.

Jammer dat ek nie man genoeg was
om myself te beskerm teen nege honderd seuns nie.
Dit is skandelik. *** kon ek so swak wees
dat ek nie eers nege jaar se "ou grappies"
kon aflag nie. Jammer dat ek dit nie snaaks vind
as daar op jou geurineer en gespoeg word nie.
*** kon ek nie lag vir die hilariteit van
asblik skroot , soos kougom en gemifde brood
in my tas en pennesakkie nie.
Ek wens ek was nie so swak nie, dan kon
ek ook dalk myself teen die 14 seuns beskerm het.
Jammer dat hulle my so maklik kon oorweldig.
Jammer dat hulle my kon teister
en rondgooi soos 'n vloerlap.

Ek vra nederig om verskoning,
dat ek daaroor kom kla het.
Meneer is reg, ek is 'n sussie.
Net 'n moffie soos ek sou
kom kla het. Jammer om meneer
se tyd so te mors, dit was verspot van my
om te **** meneer sou iets daaran doen.

Nou is ek ietwat geskend. Menere
en manne het al gesweeptong en asyn
op my kaal rug.

Nou sit ek Sentraal in die kakstorm
en jy wonder hoekom ek nie meer
onder die top 20 is nie.

Nou sit ek hier onder tussen die wiskunde "Jee"
vraestelle en huil.
My enigste vertroosting is dat ek nie
heel onder is nie, en dat jy die hell is
waaruit ek nog sal opruis.

Ek breek vry van agter die tralies.

Geagte skool
Gerespekteerde meneer
Vok jou
en moenie laat jou mislukkings jou
op die gat skop as jy by die deur uitloop nie.
Want hierdie "mislukking" ... skop kak hard.

ya vijy vi volnyetes' moi dryg
y vas tryasytsy ryki, plyashyt nogi
vi pozabili vsex i kajdogo vokryg
boyas' svernyt' s pryamoi kak shest dorogi.

*** vistypaet, v ygolkax glaz stoyat slezi
ne v sostoyanii stoyat', sidet' i govorit'
vi plachite, dlya vas vse tak ser'ezdno
moi dorogoi, ny kak tak mojno jit'.

no ne volnyisya, dryg moi
podojdi;
vi rano so schetov spisali vas je;
i esli mi seichas ne pobedim
to vperedi mi viigraet i dvajdi.

Agressie kook in my siel
Dit brand soos warm olie
Ek is kwaad.
So fokken kwaad.
Alles is kak
En ek is vasgevang
In 'n eindelose storm
Van sweet en rooi
My wese donder en brul
So.
Liewe Wereld,
Jou ma se poes.

Kak mnogo slyoz ja ukral u tebja?

I dragged my flesh and perched on the terrace of gloom
Who welcomed me with sunken talons into my chest
and snatched my soul with great fury-
Upon me fell a torrent of tears from those whose tears I’d stolen,
Whose hearts I’d cleft in twain.
Who ruffled their sheets in discomfort beneath the waning moon

shower me in ***** and bury me in excrements
Throw me into the mouth of the roaring fire and feed to me my flaying skin
satiate my thirst with pus oozing from my flesh.
Perish me! Let the lord of the heavens spit upon my soul
And the caricatures in the depths of hell trample over me.
Let the devil embrace me and his legion of demons fornicate with my accursed soul-
For I had not been....Alas, I had never been whole .

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daughter The best of three; Russia, Europe, South Asia,
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The incapacity of the Christian front prevented
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the blood of the ****** ****** battle,
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******* ******* ******* full day
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of China. DHI Robota Agala krīṭīna
iṭālī'ā hē'araḍara ALARUKA PARAKA
Bala phārasī lost asamānāṁ potential
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krovi ogn 'izmenyayet istoriyu nemetskikh
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                                                 kompleksa oblast 'pamyati Memory Filosofii
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i o nim iskrą w rrdze,
          w gre na tło innych
  narodziń -
               i nim o iskre:
krzemień o krzemień -
    i kość o kość - nauka kaligrafii...
      jak i ten co o męke
               łuku ziemi w dary
oddać pierw chciał nic, a potem proch -
                o potem kichnąć
w sto braci leczy naród prośbą! też jak ja,
obudzić ozór! **** powiadomił...
niechaj ten ozór - horongiew nasza -
            akcentów ilości sie zajada,
         bo tyle umie -
  i tyle wyzna - jak i słowem sie
zachwyci: po rosaj i po germańsku -
na weekend - i tym tam,
na czeł  Mongoła: zapomnień, i
zapomniawszy: zwany Lach, hujem
przez sukiennice i kreski sławnych tabu
ilokroci -
                i ta bida... stokroci.
siała baba mak... ni widziała jak...
           chlop... chlop... chlop...
                       siała baba mak, ni widiała jak...
bo tu kurvasiet chłop!           chłop!
kak duszy Khrushchev? ni pomogje!
         naz gu!
                        niet harasho! niet! haraшo?
Las Vegas etя: Lon-don, Pa-ri-ri Piri Piri
                                    Mex hey ** i co. - etc.
******* ****** Bahamas **** cult яя.

There are no words for how I feel,
The feeble English feels unreal,
So I turn to other languages,
To tell me how I feel.

French says Bonjour,
Its word is "Amour,"
Russian says "Kak",
But it puts me farther back.

I look to Icelandic for an answer,
But all I get is "ást",
So I choose Latin,
And I hurry fast,
I type in my question,
And it says "tamquam" last.

Perhaps I'll find another language,
One I'll perfectly enjoy,
But for now, I'll stick with English,
And I'll say what it says.

"Like" and "Love".

for the man i really care about,

good morning, kak!
it's great to know that before this day comes, we spend our time together. warm hugs, and little kisses accompany us.

in fact, i didn't have to wait until this day to say this. because every day is world boyfriend day for me!

so .. happy national boyfriend day, baby! thank you for being a very good boyfriend, a boyfriend who takes care of me with all his heart, a boyfriend who never demands anything from me, a boyfriend who always respects me, a very caring boyfriend, the best boyfriend of the best!

adek sayang kakak banyak-banyak!!! i'll spend 99293939 hours and spend 99293939 more with you. thankyou for being dealing with this annoying g-fie. yang betah sama aku ya kak!

sincerely,
Anette.
{ GRRR. SAYANG KAKAK!!! 😼💗}

They run from name to names
as if that would make a difference
but contempt knows no names or cares
a disgraced ghost in vengeful pain is a disgraced ghost
in vengeful pain, its really as obvious and apparent as that

They chase words in swirls and twist
in their minds it carries some messages to ingest
I just see the cheapness and desperation of dis-ingenuity
and smell the cloying fear that underpins their weaknesses
just cheap insecure ghosts looking for relevance and face save

They show how innate vapid arrogance
compensates for stupidity and shortsightedness
while tomfoolery dances with immaturity in insipid minds
and most telling is their kak lack of introspection or consciousness
for ghost sees what it wants to see and hear what it wants to hear

They have not changed a jot in me
other than now afford me a keener knowledge
of their hypocrisy, cowardice and their general fallibility
in tautology its evident that ghosts are divinely not human beings
and they all bar very few wear that dishonorable shame with pride

They are so far from my psyche and self
that I feel like shouting directions to piffling anodynes
but who am I to show them the tragedies of bloodless cadavers
who revel in their kak and sparkle in their white robes unaware
they want to bell a cat yet they parade around with the biggest bells
round their long supercilious necks

Is this the biggest tragedy of modern times
for evolution and history has taught mankind nothing!
come **** me and sing a million dirges but know its all about you
but you have also created double a million monsters in your yards
they are all waiting and watching and their diet is cold heartless cadavers......

Best you respect yourself - whether you kak yourself out- or happy for 2 mins a day. look after your kids - hate everyone else in the world cause they all wrong anyway. ~Floss and brush your teeth till they tiny stumps..as this helps anger issues.. if not - tattoo your whole face to look like your toe nails. Or fake some of it, some of life you dont agree with. Just until the next glorious curry ****.. Then remember life is what you make it. Kak all the way to the end. **

Vy , kak budto drugiye net.

only recently, have my ears spoken
of a piece of music
i can give a name to,
  in the firm, yet comfortable
accommodation of a memory...
just before the would-be
footballers
walked onto the pitch,
of england versus the world's
XI...
            the choir piece...
i searched the internet to
            hear the same anthem...

people contra people...
and the people have spoken...
   it's not exactly
beethoven's ode to joy...
   but händel's zadok the priest...
that...
        incalculable hovering
sensation,
    that humming bird's worth
of orchestating
a differentiation of purpose...
      
with ears, rather than via eyes,
will i come to understand
the holy rest, the eternal,
yet all too familiar...
                             before then?
a whiff of dust bound to
     being cushioned by fog...

my god! a soviet choir!
                          polyushka polye!
such a subtle variant
at the unicef vs. england football
game!
        komrad stav!
                 we've come far
beyond the concept of paris!
          and to think...
   music as a subconscious force
en masse is not a ******* oyster...
a delicacy...
       when the masses are
exposed to a piece of music:
i really have to try to remember
what i listened to...
   mind you...
          if the pristine ones are
to be trusted, then a memory
of 4 hours ago is not to be trusted,
but the stated song is an amnesia
in synonym...
        
    a people are a people:
you can either play chess,
     in a humble abode,
or play chess with people,
                    in a tsar's castle...
which is middle-income
of england by any globalist plateau
standard...
              
   choirs sing synonym anyway:
there's always something profound,
like Verdi's chant of the hebrew
slaves in Nabucco...
               but this song
beginning with the charity match
at old trafford?

            escapes me...
                    yeden osem L kak
zapomnie'c is but one song from 2004,
or 5, or 6... can't remember...

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm...
itchy conscience riddling alzheimer's
in a true experience of
militant protein particles
and lazy aminos...
    
               close to a soviet choir
will not be enough to have the identity
of the song revealed...
   i'm pretty sure there was a choir
involved...
      
          no wonder people began
to fathom a concept: we, the people...
given the discrepency of
an "i" in continuum...
          a momentum like a ******...
and then, perhaps an obituary...

   obituary in a newspaper,
doesn't buy you an epitaph!
      look!
            how many people are
allowed an epitaph on their grave,
the said: seal, and the said:
    but once!       huh?
       i've walked a graveyard
more than once...
      how many epitaphs
have i seen?
        not, one!
                
         because the choir in heaven
is not soviet, transcendent death?!

people die with contraints
       and said day of birth,
and unsaid day of passing...
       but no... epiphany post-scriptum,
post vitae...
       the mark of eternity,
an epitaph...

              i know the unicef vs. england
2018 song was not polyushka polye...
  
        apparently the search engine
that's the base of the internet
doesn't have all the answers.

Igor had free passes for a luxury hotel;
in the heart of Moscow     overlooking  
the arid plains of the ancient world,  Igor       bringing Irinka
             'it's so American!' she squealed,         sipping
her fruity drink;  Igor pleased to gamble
              & practice his English;  Wide-eyed  Irinka
had a *****,               Igor dragging her to the room
& throwing her to the black satin sheets;
'Igor', kak dolgo?';    by the time she left
   she wore a little soul patch        & skinny jeans;
Igor beat her up that night & made her walk the dark
streets in a miniskirt; she picked up tricks
       for bus fare back to the country              
while        Igor slept in the air-conditioned         room