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Nat Lipstadt Aug 2018
The Instigation:
Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,”

I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“


both of you shush!

there is no “better” in poetry

mine yours theirs, alive or not,

just gasps tears and blood
whimsical smiles and isles
cuts and burns of pained revelations,
hidden in fog,
that words try to delete away,
through the shrouded mists of
human tissues,
unconstrained by the
bounded shape
of the human cell,
our first, our own
self-imposed jail

tissue, too,
baby soft, or,
purple beating majestic bruised blotches
by those weaklings whose
kindness never
fully developed;  
or old man mine whose
skin cells erodes, so poems and light
weary weighted, lightly flake off
for your “betterment”
mostly tho for worse

good humans all await,
in patientce lightly hidden,
residents of dark sunspots
in the glaring existence exposer
of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come

they get it

how we get there unimportant

get there


get there
that is the poetic
mission critical

no path best or style preferred-
no compare just, but,
any path that
lifts and elevates,
to the commonplace

the common place

where all costarred, universal,
where common is the temple mount
of highest praise, holy smoke rising,

a place that
that discloses and closes,
is scribed/described honestly as
a connective,
which is the simplest

call my poems,
blessedly common!

that an honorable,
so gladly accepted
so much more meaning-full
than merely best or better

for that,
I’d gladly weep,
for no praise
ever been

8/2/18 406pm
on the jitney to my isle
the instigation: Edmund black › “weary weighted, I agree with Kim .... This is poetry at its best :)“
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
Classical Trumpism: Judas makes a strong and powerful betrayal.

Neo-Classical-Trumpism: Adolph is a good friend of mine. He makes a strong
                           and powerful argument regarding purity.

Contemporary Trumpism: I love and trust my little buddy, Kim.

Modern Trumpism: Vlad, whom I trust with my marriage, makes a
                                   reel strong and powerful argument.

Trumpism:  Sad, Sad, Sad. Witch hunt. There was no collusion.

Neo-Trumpism: Crooked Malia and Sasha are to blame for the
                            collusion with Canada, Mexico and South America
If there are neo-nazis, there will be neo-trumps.
And the spelling of reel is what I intended.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
[Infernal Dialectic of Ongoing Struggle]

Spoke Mao Zedong to Kim Jong Ill:
We languish here in deep red hell –
Let us confer and analyze
What factors revolutionize
The contradictions still.

Replied Lil’ Kim: The running dogs
Beguiled by class and capital
Have overdrawn and overspent.
They bank on debt, and make lament
And flounder in their fogs…

Kim chee does stink, but tastes so good
Do have some more, oh comrade Mao.
Fermented cabbage goes so well
With Hennessey and blondes (in hell)
Juche’s in da hood!

The Fearless Leader (now a shade)
Responded thus: Just give them time.
Our doctrines spread, their God is dead
Their sons shall sing ‘The East is Red’
Our party’s got it made.

Ill Kim displayed a wicked grin:
Our rocket-launches make them fear
They scold and cluck, and then they duck
While Hillary tries to pass the buck
I think we still could win…

The Chairman thought and sipped some fire
in communistic reverie, and feeling very clever, he
Replied to Ill: This place we’ll fill
with dead reactionaries still –
fifth columns to inspire.

Now let the thousand flowers bloom
And let one thousand thoughts contend.
Remember **? Remember ‘Nam?
We triumphed over Uncle Sam –
He’s limping toward his doom.

A wizened ghost now drifted in
Because his name had been proclaimed
A wispy beard (as yet unseared)
Revealed the mastermind once feared:
Old Uncle ** Chi Minh !

** ** – old friend! Draw near! Draw near,
Spoke Mao: In solidarity
We hail your work upon the earth
You showed them what a war is worth
You’re always welcome here.

Ill Kim and I were wondering
How best to make the forward leap –
conspiring ******* their cow
and smoke their duck and drain their sow
while they are buying bling.

** Chi, old warrior, why the frown?
Upon your wisdom now we wait.
The forces red you bravely led
You staked your claim until they bled
And brought their nation down.

Old uncle **, the sage revered,
did smolder with his cigarette.
Viet Cong thought is hard to grasp
It slithers like a jungle asp…
** paused and stroked his beard:

You speak without the people’s light!
I criticize in strongest terms
Your revolutionary thought.
We need to ask our friend Pol ***
How best to steer this fight.

Such gradual change, a halfway measure
stalls the Bourgeoisie’s demise.
Our true Khmer Rouge was not a stooge
of Kapital. His fame was huge
for plundering their treasure.

True, he had to purge his nation
such is revolution, gents…
The traitor classes see the masses,
through reactionary  glasses.
Death or re-education!

We ought to sow his rural seed
for pure agrarian reform.
The bodies in the rice can rot
to fertilize the harvest plot –
the people’s mouths to feed.

When Pol *** heard his tactics lauded
he flew in to join the jabber:
Take a tip from Kampuchea!
Listen well and I will teach ya!

Kim and Mao applauded.

City folk are useless eaters
glasses-wearing foes and cheaters!
let them slave – and always save
their corpses for the fertile grave
Until they love their leaders.

From the barrel power grows –
(I don’t mean kim chee barrel, boys – )
Now learn my way.We’ll have our say
Their weakened states will wither away.

The Red dictator rose.

Prepared to ramble on for hours
(the way Fidel so loves to do)
Pol ***’s harangue now fired the gang
like rockets falling on Da Nang
emitting sparks in showers.

Hell is known for lack of stasis –
Sudden throes of quaking fire;
fitful flares from from Satan’s lairs
and constant similar affairs
the population faces…

Thus Saint Pol ***, still naming names
along with Mao and Kim-Jong Il
while ** Chi screamed, and then blasphemed
were swept en masse, and unredeemed
into the surging flames.

Yet still they plotted in the blaze
with dialectic deviousness.
Philosophizing, strategizing
stinking sulphur brimstone rising;
ghosts in the yellow haze…

        ☭ END ☭

Momoir Jan 26
The ****** is in hospital with full blown [illegible] one year later
One year ago today
I killed the rose
Because something was wrong
Written by my mother, date unknown
Momoir Jan 22
Laying on the grass beginning yet another stressful day
Thinking, thinking, things – working my under-developed brain
Worrying, letting the insecurities of life and society eat away at my soul
Then I felt the hand of God warm my skin with the sun
And I got a chance to experience the music of the master
The calm, quiet almost still waters gently washed upon the shore
And in the distance in all directions I could hear the echoes of people content
A laugh, hear a child’s happiness ever reverent while the sun enlightened me
And soothed the coldness I had felt for so long
People to the right of me were celebrating an anniversary
And they began to sing, a large family in harmony
To the beat of the quiet shore, to the rhythm of the seagulls above
children in the distance were everywhere but the tiniest baby in arms was contented
and for a few brief minutes nothing meant anything.
Everything was light and warm
Some pages of the book on the blanket on the grass begin to flap in the mild breeze and I drifted
Drifted away from the uncaring hopeless society I’ve been a part of forever
And upon waking I realized how unimportant the pressure of it all really was and is
The clouds carried me to a place in my spirit
Where I began to understand how irrelevant it all really is
and showed me my character in strength and lightness
they gave me wisdom to be able to not care so much about it all
they made me clear on what’s important like the love, the music, the children, the laughter and the light and warmth that surrendered me…. That Day.
Written by my mother, 1989
Homunculus Jul 2016
A few days ago, North Korea said that the imposition of sanctions by the United States amounted to an open "declaration of war" and went on to state that in response to military exercises to be carried out by the US and South Korean armies, that they are "fully ready to cope with them with nuclear weapons any time,” Okay. Let me just make one thing abundantly clear: these jokers have been talking this game for the last four decades, and it has all amounted to precisely nil

As regards Kim Jong-Un, I will ask that I be excused by my reader for the brief detour into contemporary African-American Vernacular English that this piece will now take. (crack knuckles, clear throat, hawk phlegm, adjust junk) Dear Kim: You ain't ****. *******, and your little ***** *** on some old *******. You ain't ****, you ain't never gon' be ****, and you never was ****. Furthermore, you ain't standin' on **** but a failed state and a fast-fading personality cult. All we hear is talk, talk, talk, talk, every year from you and your decrepit, syphilis riddled father before you; and quite frankly, it's getting old. Boring, even.

Do it, we dare you. See what happens, you glorified, overfed man-baby. You blurry greyscale xerox of Mao's bloated corpse. You, who have mistook a flimsy house of cards for an ironclad fortress. You naked emperor. You, whose very 'empire' is the deformed and emaciated plant which reluctantly sprang from a salted and desolate earth. You, whose 'hermit kingdom' constantly shrinks toward zero while the entire world watches, laughing!

We rest assured of the emptiness your threats. We can topple your house of cards at the flick of a wrist. In one fell swoop, our elite tactical urban forces will subvert and destroy your poorly trained, weakly organized, and honestly pitiful excuse for a nation. Why, if we wanted it, you'd be gone in a New York minute. And don't even try to come at us with tough talk about nukes. *****, we been had nukes, and here's the thing: ours are bigger, better, and more numerous than yours. You push that button, and we bomb your sorry little ***** back into the stone. You EMP us, our allies bomb you for us. Bearing all these considerations in mind, I once again reiterate:


(drop mic, walk away)
But in all seriousness: There's just something deep down in the collective consciousness of this country, perhaps even humanity generally, that secretly yearns, that requires, desires, and *pines away* for the glorious spectacle of the theater of war, isn't there? Something in us seems, beneath a surface layer of fear, to ask, nay to *implore* with all the swaggering braggadocio of a drunken frat boy: "Fight me. I dare you. See what happens." That subconscious, primal need to attain brute superiority in outward, tribalistic displays of dominance projects itself onto the global stage: But how, then, are we to understand this mechanism, and what are some of its consequences? Upon closer inspection, we will find the practical consequences of this act to be twofold. On the one hand: By generating this spectacle, the media are able to use it as a tool for maintaining within the public a mixture of frenzy at one pole and detached complacency at the other. By giving them a violent conflict to participate in vicariously, the war at once (a) creates for them an abstract, nationalistic identity, (b) sublimates their violent impulses, and (c) distracts their attention away from the material conditions of life in the country where the spectacle is being broadcast; effectively stifling the imperative to rebel against those conditions where they might otherwise have been taken as unjust. War pacifies, war stupefies, and above all war unifies. On the other hand, the previously mentioned tendency to outwardly display dominance serves as an effective means for geopolitical elites and those striving to be such, to affirm reaffirm their hegemony on the world stage by making ****** examples of those that would presume to cross them. In this regard, there is perhaps no greater or more apt an example than the twin bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the second world war.

There is much more to be said about these matters in seriousness, but for the sake of brevity, I leave it here.
Francie Lynch Oct 2017
(Think Where Have All the Flowers Gone)

Where have all the assassins gone,
I'm just asking,
Where have all the hit-men gone,
It wasn't long ago.
Where have all the psychos gone,
Ones like Sirhan Sirhan,
Or a crazy red Russian,
Better still, an American.

Where have all the agencies gone,
I'm just asking,
The MI5, the CIA,
KGB, Mossad;
Where have covert actions gone,
When there's guys like crazed Kim Jong;
Or a crazed American,
A narcissistic American.

Where have all our heroes gone,
I'm just asking;
Where have all our leaders gone,
Not so long ago.
Where have all fine Presidents gone,
Obama was our last good one;
When will we ever learn,
Ego-maniacs can't govern.
Read to the melody of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone."
Enlarged and re-posted.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
And so the Pu'erh and Jasmine Lily
pearls are covered, my attention on
the Phoenix Eye pearls, and I peel back
the foil of a small handful. Ainhana had
carefully remove the infuser and I pour
in the pearls, listening as they gently
hit the glass.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
As soon as Ainhana places the infuser
back in the tea ***, I turn the sand-dial
and watch the cream sands run, and the
pearls steep. I dare not let it run for the
full five minutes - I find the perfect brew is
made in three. The pearls now unfurl, the
green leaves now floating. The clear water
turns into the colour of the finest champagne.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
After three minutes, Ainhara pours me a cup,
the aroma itself puts me more at ease.
'Do not waste it,' I tell her, holding the
handle and saucer. 'Such fine pearls can
be steeped twice, and I will make sure that
I treasure every single cup.'
'Yes, My Lady,' She says with a curtsy.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
With my eyes closed, I blow away some
steam and proceed to sip short and brief.
It is a pleasure that is most welcome, indeed!
Teeming with the fires of the Phoenix itself
and caressing my tongue with floral sweetness.
A delicious moan escapes me as I relax in
my Summer Throne.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
My breathing is calmed as I look at
the horizon with redolent eyes.
The choirs sing as I drink such fine
ambrosia! By a cup of Pearls, mine
own eyes feel inspired, as I think of
the lovely vision that is the Phoenix
that is born of the lotus.
Adieu, stresses of Court!
Adieu, plagues of doubt and anger!
Thy Queen is now jocund dove.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
'Truly the finest Jasmine Pearls I've
had in years!' I beam. 'Be sure to share
this with my fellow Kings and Queens.
Especially Queen Kim. In such a golden
hour, we shall become Dream Children,
to be lost in gardens of distant China.'
'Yes, My Queen.' Ainhara waves her hand,
Semui and Ilazi now resume play.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
As I sip once again, the summer
showers come. Lo! My gazebo
glistens! Cleansed by the light,
and life for my fields of my
fair gardens.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
This blend cleanses the fire of my heart.
This blend casts out sorrows for me to
drink beauty.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
A  liquor the shade of champagne with
the flames of life budding from a
delicate flavour.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
The Phoenix merges with me, for I
am the star of the morn that graces
my Aurelinaea!

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Such a blend of elegance in my tongue,
a heavenly euphony. How I'm forever in
awe of the power of
my Jasmine Pearls.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Final part of my Jasmine Pearls free verse!
Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it! ^-^
Lyn ***
kirk Oct 2018
Ryan he likes slags called kim
I wonder if Kim's fat or slim
Is she ****, is she grim
I guess Kim's good enough for him

Kim she's Ryan's piece of trim
Is it because she licks the rim
Are other slags out on a whim
Maybe their filled up to the brim

Bus stops talk they say so much
They seem to have that magic touch
Slags lives scrawled on shelters hutch
Straight to the point, not double Dutch

No other slags are good enough
perhaps their skanks and far too rough
Slags called Kim, must be so tough
When Ryan does not get enough

Not slags called Julie, Emma or Jane
Jodi and Rachel must be too plain
Just try Michelle, are you insane ?
Limiting tarts is loss not gain

Is Ryan partial to whips and chain ?
And Kim obliges him with pain
Kim must be different with the cane
It's no wonder he wants Kim again

Kim maybe great, from where your stood
She's just a ****, who likes hard wood
Come on now Ryan, you know you should
There's other slags that's just as good
Inspired from the words "Ryan Likes Slags Called Kim" that I saw written on a bus stop
Momoir Jan 27
Got so much stuff
                       penetrating my brain
Activists, blacktivists
                       my little girls pain
                       that I have caused
                       her pause to success
Stop the blame game
Prepared instead for the
                       sweet accolades
                       of your future around you
Life is short
Make it easy as you can, love

I can sit here all day and night
                       to tell you why
                       to stop dwelling
                       and start loving
But then I get so mad
                       when you can see me
The opposite of what you should be

Freedom is not a word
It's a choice
You've got it
Use it
Written by my mother, date unknown
Francie Lynch Jun 2018
We're mostly gregarious and polite,
Like most of you.
We too have our diplomatic trips 'n bumps;
We never cozied to Dicky;
But welcomed ex-pat refugees
For safe and sound reasons.
After the jimmy-rigging, how many re-pated?

And we gagged on the impeachables, all fuzzy and bitter.
He called the father that ******* in Ottawa;
And Pierre wore that moniker like The Order of Canada.
When you're not liked by one, you're a dove.

You should visit
It has it all.

How is Supreme Leader managing?
Are his...
Are my people... sitting at attention.

We could real news a bomb a la Kim Jong,
Or flip a stone down at Port Huron.
We won't.
But we could if we weren't
The Great White North, so accommodating, so polite,
So Coo loo coo coo coo coo coo cooo! nice...
(for now)
The thing about dictators is, you don't know you have one til it's too late.
The CANDU is the largest nuclear reactor in the world, and used for all the ingredients needed for heat and intense heat.
There are 35 million Canadians who are the biggest importers of merchandise from 35 States, south of the border. A lot of people are going to be out of work.
"Coo loo coo..." is the theme song to the Bob and Doug McKenzie show on Second City.
Momoir Jan 26
A SINGLE yellow rose
tipped with pale burgundy
scented with the bitter sweet
from being plucked too young

******, halcion, alcohol, tuinal
CRACK *******

A ****** sweats on the ragged black leather couch
sick, whining,
in the dismal grey vampire apartment

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is wrong

Good! You're home with the outfits
there's a knock at the door
Good! the stuffs here
let's drown in the chemical reprieves

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is so wrong

The relief sets in fast and I can relax a bit
Hey, where'd the rose come from?

Something smells
Something is eerie
Something is desperately wrong

Written by my mother, date unknown
Kim Essary Nov 2018
As her words grab my heart with each and every message or poem I read,
It truly saddens me to be so far in distance, I can't offer her what she may need.
Never have I layed my eyes upon her, I can only Invision her beauty by her poems and words of wisdom.
Her soul sweet as the blooming flowers and heart as pure as gold.
It's as if her soul is that no less than angelic as she has touched many on this site and more.
What saddens me is soon she will no longer be with us as her illness is growing worse day by day,
My Dearest Kim Johanna Baker, there will be a sadness and void on this site and in my heart the day the Lord takes you away.
I hope that she may see this before it's her time to go, for when the other angels come for her I want for her to know.
The impact her sweet soul has left for all of us here on HP, some more than others , some of you like me.
So if you would or care to join me in my dedication to a very loving soul that makes this site so pleasurable, feel free to leave a comment below.
We love you our dear friend , our dear friend Kim!
Please feel free to repost this for the ones I don't know
Never met this wonderful lady but she has touched me and my life so dearly. Kim Johanna Baker
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
My Court is a battle
As a Queen, I will endure
so my kingdom thrives

Standing in gardens
My treasure trove of colours
that never fails me

Flowers bow gently
The winds make the tall trees sing
Rivers flow calmly

Scents drift in the light
I hear its sweet melody
As I stand with pride

A Queen now enters
The daughter of Spring and Deer
The tender Queen Fawn

Who smiles so sweetly
Fragrant, soft-spoken and kind
With deer by her side

Another Queen comes
The angel with a kind heat
The gentle Queen Sue

Who has healed her wounds,
broken her chrysalis
And spreads her warm light

Another Queen comes
Wise and soon to be married
Joyful Queen Donna

Who goes with the flow
A talented haikuist
with a flower crown

Another Queen comes
She who is always giving
The giving Queen Kim

Whose crown's a halo
And her words, so spiritual
fragrant and calming

Another Queen comes
Who has birds singing so sweet
The sweet Queen Robin

Who is a true joy
Whose words are just like music
A kindred spirit

And now a King comes
Who is very much like me
The great King Omni

Who is an artist
Who is both seen and unseen
Very much like me

Another King comes
Ever so mischieveous
The playful King Paul

Such a playful tease
He who makes me smile and laugh
And looks out for me

Another King comes
His heart is strong and tender
The wise King Edmund

Who writes for himself
Speaks so well of others and
how vital love is

To these Kings and Queens
Thank you for your melodies
You are golden souls

For now I do see
The true power of my quill
My ink is gold too

I write out my life
My pain, my fears and my loves
And my achievements

I must stay above
I will walk with my head up
and ignore the bad

People will hate me
But I will thicken my skin
to be a true queen

I will empower
And give you all your respects
and never denounce

I am a true Queen
With a Court that is growing
steadily but strong

The reign of Queen Lyn
Who is sensitive and shy
It has just begun
To these poets in particular, thank you so much for pushing me forward!
I'm grateful to everyone here to all my fellow poets on HP
You're all Kings and Queens of your own right!
Much love and blessings!
Lyn ***
Muzaffer Feb 25
Kim kime karıştı
kimliği bulanık gecede

tuhaf yıldız gülümsedi arkamdan

tiyosunu verdi
oktavlık bir yokuşta

saat yönüyle ilerledim
yürüdüm saklambaç sokakta

hapşırık tuttu boğazı
nane limon kaynat dedi.
cüsseli bir neon

makyajlı vitrin ona keza
seslendi göğün kızı sonra

bir an evvel. dedi
uzanıp bir ayetin koynuna...
Eryri Nov 2018
As I stand,
With Pimms in hand,
Your perfume I do sense,
(It was always pretty intense).
I fall into a trance,
As you make your entrance,
And I stare in awe,
At your fascinator.
Such exquisite taste
- surely not bought in haste -
It certainly fascinates,
And is sure to spark debates:
"Too much", "just seeking attention",
"She thinks she's Kim Kardashian".
But I think it's ace:
It accentuates your face,
Really brings out your ears.
So ignore all the sneers
Have a good night
Under the disco's light,
And I'll see you later,
For a closer look at that fascinator.
Yes, I'm my wife's traitor,
As I hope later
To be unfastening the
fascinator's fascinating fascinator.
I just like the word 'fascinator'
Emeka,Miss,Jule­s,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Jole­ne, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the­ untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Ang­el-like,Maxx,Lure ***.
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.
Muzaffer Jul 14
mary joe
tescilli bir fahişe

gündüz taşakta dostuyla
gece sabaha dek durakta

biraz egolu ve bencil biri
mesajla yürür avına
oldukça kibar gerçi

sıfırın altında bana sorsan
bı sıkımlık karı
sikik bir gizem yaşatıyor içinde
sanırsın darı ambarı

gizem tanımı ne olabilir
yalan, dolan dipsiz kuyu

mary joe bu
bugün aşığım der
siniz-li, sunuz-lu
ama uyandırayım
franco'ya üflediği gibi
sessiz takar boynuzu

orospu işte
yine de
tam bir profesyonel

ilgi ve alaka bağımlısı
fakat ne
tezat bi durum
azgın olsa da
bir kalbi var değil mi?

neticede insan
ya, gerçekler?
kırdığı cevizlere
bulaşan pis kan?

şarkı söylerken
ip asıyor mandala
bu halini bile bile
hangi öküz girer tarlaya
diyorum ama
dinleyen kim?

ahh mary joe
biliyorum isteğin bu değil

hoplatan biri olsun diyorsun
gezelim sarmaş dolaş
deniz kıyılarında

hiç olmazsa bir kez öpsün
kırk yıl bitmesin aşkı
özlesin saat başı
nihavendi, hicazımı

kim bilir
gerçek olur belki
bi posta atar sana
ama sadece bi posta

belki de oldu
misyoner uzandın yatağa

ahh mary joe..

uykusuz mary joe
işven yutulur sanma
göt attığın yolların
cünup sabahlarındasın..

Muzaffer May 23
kuşların senfonik
tweet’lerini banlıyor
çirkin martı vaazları
çatlak sürahiden sızan
su gibi
kafam bi milyon

koca götlü martha
kocası solucan fred
balkonda çiçeklere
spa bakımı yaparken
akşamdan kalan
jack daniels’ın son nefesini

akşama parti var
lacivert ******>çok mu havalı olur
tırt mı kaçar
blue jean gömlek
beyaz nike

geliyo hep
ona hiç
gitmediğim halde
peşimi bırakmıyor
yaşlı bunak

dişi ceylanların
skimoske beni
yakalayamaz ki
meşgule veriyorum
eleği duvarda
hızlı bir uncu olarak

romanımla meşgulüm
eften, püften
çatı çığlığımda
agatha sürmenaj geçiriyor
her bir tuşta

ben de, merak ediyorum
katil kim?
akışına bıraktım hikayeyi
oradan oraya sürüklüyor
robotron adlı haspa

akşama sarkıyor gün
vantuzlamak için
kestane yanığı
batım dudakları

ve artık
uçan tenekemi almalıyım
rot balanstan
birlikte intihar
kim bilir..
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
At the sound of my name, I see the faces
turn and smiles of many friends;
Queen Sue of Ruikruya in her lilac silks,
Queen Sarita of Khaikar in orange silks,
Queen Deb of Daegeral in magenta,
Queen Kim of Geniael in creams,
Queen Robin of Naeneiana in periwinkles,
Queen Fawn of Yuamor in red-violets,
Queen Dawn of Khesian in dandelion-orange,
Queen Jugnu of Enuryn in jade-greens,
Queen Yidna of Puhan in indigos,
Queen Cne of Phelyra in turquoise,
Queen Xaela of Lonusea in peach,
Queen Ayumi of Wadia in tan-gold,
Queen Sheila of Naizzuzia in cornflower-blue,
Queen Stars of Yurithireatha in green-yellow

King Edmund and his wife in matching
forest-greens attires,
King Omni of Khaniel in silvers,
King Emeka of Ghalali in white,
King Devon of Monait in blue-violets,
King Fugue of Thavia in blacks,
King Yacov of Igrador in olive-green,
King Joseph of Eaqellurene in bronze,
King Fredrick of Emirinait in mauve,
King Rob of Balan in sea-green,
King John of Khesian in melon-red,
King Aslam of Ikaesa in deep plum,
King Brandon of Huarean in ocher,
King Kikodinho of Izugalla in taupe,
King Jobira of Zavalon in orange-red
and many many more.

And last but not least, King Paul of
Luciuscemi himself in emerald-and-gold.
He wears his favourite emerald green
jacket with ruby buttons, bright gold
embroidery of suns and lions; his sleeves
stitched with pearls and rubies to match
the red sash across his chest; his trousers
black as are his boots, but even they have
gold laces.
I received messages saying part 7 wasn't seen...
Come on, HP! I'll have to split this in half also.
Anyway, alot of names were dropped so please
To Rob and Yidna in particular,  thank you very much for your kind comments! They mean alot. Don't worry, I still have them - it's just made it private.
Thank you all so so much, truly!
I'm truly grateful.
Lyn ***
Muzaffer Jul 10
kuranın ne zaman
ve nerede çekileceğini
ödüllendirildi insanoğlu..

bir kitapçıda
sayfaları çevirirken
henüz yazılmamış
bir şiirin ilk dizesi
sizi gözlerinizden kavrayıp
mısradan mısraya vurduğunda

küçük bir kıvılcımın
büyük bir yangıya
dönüşeceği olgusunu
kim bilebilir?

bu karşılıklı
elektriksel akımın
sürrealist boyutlarındaki
göz eşleşmesi
yerini dudaklara bıraktığında

kalp çarpıntınız
ve tatlı titremeler
genital üyeleri
sık sık
oturuma davet eder

zaman ve mekan
mefhumundan uzak
ilahi açlığın
ilahi tasarımındaki varoluş

yaratım yasası
değiştirilmesi teklif dahi edilemez
amir hükmü olma hasebiyle,

ve kalp
eşleşmesinin ardından

ay'a oranla çekim gücü
milyon ışık yılı olan
yeni bir gezegenin
ilk yapı taşlarını oluşturur

karşılıklı uyumu..

ve sadakatle

dünya balayı

taraflardan birinin
merkeze alınmasına
dek sürer

işte ben buna
gerçeküstü eşleşmeler diyorum
sonu -suz-olmayan
sonsuz eşleşmeler..

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