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Oh! that Laila such a spirited life and a very spirited soul.
Chasing joyfully behind "Bunny Hop" as he tries to reach
his little bunny hole.

Oh! granddaddy do you see the bunny running and playing?
I'm going to catch him, her little spirited voice kept on saying.

Oh! that Laila she's such a bundle of joy, "granddaddy" can be
expected to ring out at least a million times a day.
Because she knows that her granddaddy loves her and she loves me, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

We share such memories together like hanging out at "Hams Orchard" on many summer occasions.
Oh! that Laila melts my heart away while we partake in sharing
our peach ice cream with such an aspiration.

Oh! that Laila looks forward to what we call "Donut Saturdays"
and the only one donut that's covered in a pink glaze.
She knows that if she see's that one donut she and I will have another episode of memories that'll last for months and days.

Oh! that Laila
Happy 4th Birthday Laila
Vaishanavi Aug 2021
When the time comes,
You may look for Qais in the arms of Laila—
for it’s written- by him, in her name.

Never mind the voice that reasons nor the headlines that argue.
Never mind what the locals tell you.
When the time comes,
You may look for Qais in the arms of Laila.

For it’s written-
his soul rests where his quest ends.

where all of his quests end.

“La Illah, Laila.” (translates to: "no god, but one god")
Shrivastva MK Jun 2015
Kis gunah ki saja tumne mujhe diya...?
Ban ke bewafa tumne pyaar ko badnam kyon kiya....?
Mila tumse mohabbat karne ka sila mujhe,
Jite ji tumne mujhe ye judai ka zahar kyon diya...?

Na karte pyar kabhi bhi tumse agar pta hota mujhe judai ka gam,
Karke mujhe akela, kahan chale gye wo bewafa sanam,
Kya duniya ki yahi reet hain...?
Pyar aur Judai me aksar kyon judai ka hi jeet hain....?
Kis janam ka badla sanam tumne mujhse liya...?
Karke ghayal dil ko, mujhe akela yu chhod diya,

Ab to ye duniya mujhe tane mar rahi,
Kabhi laila majnu to kabhi heer ranjha ki pyar ki kahaniya suna rahi,
Ja bewafa ja khush raho uske sath jise tumne apna bna liya,
Dard dekar mujhe jo mere dil ko
DARD -E- DIL bna diya,
DARD -E- DIL bna diya.....
BROKEN HEART & BROKEN DREEMS
Arlene Corwin Jun 2020
When Laila Smiles  

When Laila smiles, white wagging tail,
All around her smile too.
Her happiness comes rolling through.
Running, jumping,
Even when she humps a doll which she can pull onto the floor,
She is adorable.

Smile contagious, doggie-gorgeous,
Lively Laila, lovely smile, canine fine
Is most divine!

And when at night she goes to bed
There’s nothing more that need be said,
Except “Goodnight,
You dog delight!” 🐶

When Laila Smiles 6.11.2020 Love Relationships II; Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover Corwin
Quiet and peacefully she slept,
in my arms an angel felt safe
A new addition to add to my
name she's called Laila.

3:21 in the morning she came
while I waited in my sleep
To welcome her in my old
granddaddy like way.

When I first saw her beautiful
little gray eyes open up.
Laiala Aariel put a stamp
of love deeper into my heart.

Born at 7lbs. 6oz. she was
like a little feather of love
All I could do was to grin
Saying I'm a grandad again.
Its a wonderful feeling to see the eyes of a grandchild when they open to see the world.
Laila M Apr 2014
6 months
23 different treatments
15 different medicines
nothing, nada, nope, no results.

The pain in my head
is not one I'd ever wish on anyone,
not even my worst enemy.

A migraine
every second
of
every day
even while sleeping
is something no one should endure

I dream about headaches... is that weird?

ouch. agh. ugh.
it's been 6 months, non-stop of people saying:
"time is the best medicine"
"don't lose hope"
"you're young, young minds heal fast."
but my favorite:
"Laila, I promise, you'll be better in a week"

Well doc, it's been 23 weeks, what's up?

honestly,
it's now a joking matter.
one of which I laugh with my friends about
I laugh at the fact that I don't remember 95% of the last 6 months
Not because I find it humorous
but because I've been given 23 different "Laila, I'm telling you this "insert treatment here" will work! It works for 99% of the people that do it."

I am the 1%
ha.
actually, I'm in the .25% of teens still experiencing concussion- related symptoms after 6 months of the hit.
Yay for minorities!

and now,
get this,
my treatment
after spending thousands on hyperbaric chambers, freaky boulderite "healing gods", gag-worthy chinese herbs
is yoga.
I understand the ritual between
Laila and I.
When she see me she cries as if
she's afraid of me.

In the beginning it broke my
heart because of who I am.
It's a ritual that shows me that
love can start with tears.

Patience is the key as the tears
in Laila eyes slowly fade.
Time allows me to sit, watch
and wait as joy find it's way.

The ritual teaches a lesson that
love isn't always so easy.
You may have to wait and let
the pieces fall in place.

In the end birds are singing
songs around Laila and I.
I understand how the ritual
goes because of who she is.
She's my granddaughter........just for you "Itty Bitty"
Ghizlane Z Jan 2015
he woke up at the rise of the sun

heard calls a KKK member feared to be apart of

he inspected his surroundings

made sure no terrorist came along to attack him

performed his morning ablution

simple movements allowing the water to purify his truth

looked up to the sky and heard boom, BOOM

Laila where's Laila , he ran back home searching for the innocent life he opens to

smokey roads smelling like phosphorous and American hate

he speculates

says his prayer searches through blood baths

never looking back

the man who throw they attack throws his daughter in his face

says is this the terrorist you've been raising to be everyday

speculates

eyes filled with fire hating devil connecting lies

terrorist

that's what they called him

after loosing the only  love he had

his hate became symbolic

terrorist

they lied to him and deceived him

made him believe this was all for his freedom

they treated him like an agent

although he deserved to be a victim

terrorist

he was just a man who believed in nothing but his faith

he had a family he was once ok

now he walks down the streets where once his family played

and celebrated religious holidays

he searches for what he believes is his enemy

grabs the hand of his worst friend and says

please lets stop the violence

lets pretend as if this wasn't a plan to serve the elite class

please i am only a man i am in grieve

please lets love each other lets not bleed

smacked in the face

exaggerated hate

die you terrorist there's no peace between you and me

-gz
#terrorist #politics #anger #muslim #soldier #child #death #America #KKK #love #revenge #peace
Yash Jan 2020
The slow dance with yourself, prom.
No partner in crime, no getaway.
Caught, red and white all I see.
The sirens of my heart, ringing.

No Heer, No Ranjha.
No Paris, No Helena.
No Laila, No Majnu.
No Romeo, No Juliet.

Ties and Dresses
Corsage and Coronary
Royal Red carpets
straight from the heart.

Epileptic lights
Face in a sea of masks
Empty hands and waiting eyes
Welcome to the Lonely Masquerade Ball.

Where no faces exist
home of the masks.
Where no hip is free
Siamese twins.

Only heart that beats alone.
Only open eyed one
Only closed lipped one
Soulless, Loveless.

Hordes, Masses, Groups.
Flurry of flamingos
Cackle of hyenas
Litter of rabbits, garbage.

The ugly duckling
Oscar Wilde
Stars on Earth
Rainbows in storms.

Missing posters, wanted.
Revolving doors, wait.
Get the getaway car
Go Go Go.
This poem is about somebody who does not belong. A poem about isolation in the midst of traditional love. And a poem about getting away from that place.
Robyn Nov 2015
God is my master.
I love Him more than all in my life.
He is the Master of my mind, my body, my heart.
He is my Shepherd.
He is beautiful.
He is love.
He is perfect.
He loves me more than I can comprehend.

God is telling me to stay.
So I will stay.
I cannot leave my church.
I cannot leave my family.
I cannot leave my city.
This is where I belong.
This is where I belong.
This is where I belong.

I belong. I belong. I belong.

In God I am made pure.
In God I am made clean.
In God I am rinsed of my sin.
In God I am white as snow.

Countless second chances He has given me.
Dear Lord, I need another today.
Today - I ask You for forgiveness.
Make me clean again.

I pray for them.
Ryan Kimmy Chiso Becky Dave Iris Mom Dad Kellie Tim Grandma Tim Debbie Laura Grandpa Betty Cindy Lori Shea Asher John Al Brian Teri Pamm Louie Chris Michael Tristan Bailey Victor Nikkie Mailee Andrew The Zachary's Kylie Michael and Megan Jade Airika Allie Bill Moriah Madison Mike Lani Moriah Tori Lenni Todd Maddie Hilary Holly Bella Jamie JT Bella Abby Sarah Anna Rick Ashtin Aaron Aleasha Christian Brian Gus Abbie Jenn Alec Jean Lois Larry Ryan Jake Bud Erin Tyler Jasmine Launts Wendy Michael Bella Sam Tony Ryan Ian Deric Jen Sam Erin Hanna Jamie Chad Mia Laura Tony Alena Tyrus Jack Luke Jenny Greg Reagan Kennedy Wilson Konni Wayne Brian Cammy Trina Mike Kameron Kasey Nikki Lexi Jelly Harley Izzie Rosie DJ Lillian Adrian Avery Asher Tyler Heidi Dan Sarah Ryan Griffin Daniel Jessica Pax Cory Abel Chandra Dave Julia Bethany Chris Orion Lindsay Twila Tracy Brandon Nate Braeden Amanda Jonah Luke Crosby Charlie Mark Debbie Ian Joy Susan Catherine Jeff Jill Andy Anna Joel Jacquie Tracy Shelby Brenden Grace Bruna Brendan Jadan Ariel Rick Johnna Laila Becca Joren Skylar David Lovins Gettys Nanny Papa My Cousins Grace Wanda Lamont Michael Amy Stephanie Tyler Tim Jeff Anthony Mikayla Emily Emily Sabrina Thomas Caleb Rene Sabra Autumn Cort Riley Cole Kaylee Amber Eryn Christina Trinity Bethany Kati Ben Jacob Megan Megan

and so so many more

May God bless you and keep you
Amen
Pride Ed Jul 2014
"Listen for the stream
that tells you one thing."
— Rumi.


How long can the perched Nightingale sing with a slit throat?
An iron taste in each bitter note; hard to swallow, —
Harder to quote!

And it rose because you entertained those thoughts too.

The honeydew rots beside that spill;
Need not these feathers remember the thrill?
Bitter with each taste, the beginnings! This deafening shrill
In false embrace, touching rapture's fiery red with a burning haste!

And it rose because solitude remembers everything I wrote.

The white faded under the scarlet smear of inky Sanskrit; I write about
You as if I'm a Dervish writing about their love walking along the sky; the brink
Of sunrise,— sunset!
And I'm never too far behind without wine.
Its the same I write of you every time!

And it rose because I can't touch a god the same as I can't touch you.

Upon seeing you with your own sweet Halvah,
I no longer prayed for Qais and Laila,
For they shared love, but never touched. Just like the Sufi poet and Allah,
Where one can only see, and one can only dream,
While floating along the stream.

And now I know I'm the fool for letting the feathers touch the wine,
Because it rose; those feathers rose too with time.

Because it rose, —
And rose,
And rose.
Our heart was
A crystal clear mirror
LOVE broke that
Into million fragments

Immortal LOVERS-
Romeo & Juliet
Heer & Ranjha
Laila & Majnun
Rose from that fragment
To enter our LOVE soul
They built the revolution
In our blood
Of LOVE, loving...

Beauty of this LOVE
Is only seen within eyes
Beauty of death
Is only seen in LOVE
Beauty of tears
Is only seen in
EPIC Romances

To bear all these experiences
Normal heart is not equipped
LOVE transforms the inner being
To treasure the experiences
Of living:
Two bodies in one soul

"Separated in time
United by Fate...!
Dear Dr. Krebs. Thank you for giving me another birthday (May 17). Please, again, remember November 15, 1979, when my doctor and four other urologists gave me a maximum of four months to live with my prostate cancer, and they set up appointments for radiation and chemotherapy, which I knew would **** me if the cancer didn't, and I refused their treatment. Then on a Sunday afternoon I contacted you by telephone and went with your simple program. I am 71 years old and am on my 13th year [of survival]. Three of the four urologists have died with prostate cancer, and forty or fifty people are alive today and doing well because they followed my "Krebs" simple program. Thanks again for giving me back my life. Your friend, H.M. "Bud" Robinson

15th March 1999
All I can tell you is that I had a growth about the size of a pea on my eyelid for two years and nothing would change it. The eye doctor said he thought it was cancerous but I did not have any tests. After 4 months of taking one b17 tablet per day and 15 apricot seeds per day the growth has totally disappeared.
Al Bresciani
abb642@aol.com 407-426-5832

“This is when I prayed and asked God to show me another way because I knew the chemo was so painful...
“Hi, my name is Tina Brock and my mother Fanida Caudelle (Faye) has battled cancer for a long time. Twelve years ago she had breast cancer. In 2004 she was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. She took chemo and the cancer stayed away for a year. It came back in her spleen, abdomen, and pelvic areas. This is when I prayed and asked God to show me another way because I knew the chemo was so painful. I began researching and found B-17. Thank God! I ordered her a bottle and she took it while taking the chemo and we were all impressed with how well her blood counts were each time. She is still using B-17 today and February 14, 2006 my mom turned 74 years old. I would like to thank you for making B-17 available.”
Fanida Caudelle, Age 74
Nicholson, Georgia

“Before taking the apricot seeds, I could feel a couple of small lumps in my *******. Within a couple of months the lumps were all gone and have not returned…
“I have been using Apricot Seeds for a little more than 2 years and believe they have made a big difference in my health. Before taking the apricot seeds, I could feel a couple of small lumps in my *******. Within a couple of months the lumps were all gone and have not returned.
I continue to take the apricot seeds every day and believe they along with whole grains, fruits, vegetables, avoiding red meat and seafood without fins and scales, and eating as organically as possible is responsible for the change in my body.
Edgar Casey had a vision of what he believed were almonds and that they prevented cancer. I believe Casey actually saw apricot seeds and mistook them for almonds because they look similar.”
Carol Loguisto
Nassau, New York
“B17 still continues to save his life every day...
“We were skeptical when our holistic vet advised B17 therapy to our German Shepherd Baron, who was diagnosed with advanced hemangiosarcoma or blood cancer and given two weeks to live. It's now been 7 months and he's still with us. B17 still continues to save his life every day.”
Mary Smith
Oakland, CA

“I tell everyone that I talk to about the natural cure for cancer, which is Apricot seeds, just another gift of God...
“In 2004 I went to my Dr. and had skin cancer removed from my face and back. The cancer on my face was determined to be basil cell but the one on my back came out to be melanoma. Since that time they have returned and the Dr. wanted to do more removal but I decided to try natural remedies.
In September of 2005 I found information about Apricot seeds and Vitamin B17. I started eating the seed and taking Vitamin B17. The cancer on my face was red and sore but today the redness is gone and also the soreness.
The most remarkable part is the melanoma on my back is getting smaller. Once I decided to use Apricot seeds and Vitamin B17, I also started reading my Bible more and using the Bible versed that were given me. My health has improved and my worries about cancer were given to God.
I tell everyone that I talk to about the natural cure for cancer, which is Apricot seeds, just another gift of God.”
Fred Davidson, Age 62
Independence, MO

“The Doctor could only scratch his head and wonder. I have also used it on a dog who had miraculous results…
“I have used the seeds as a preventive for a few years and never have had any side affects. My mother-in-law was diagnosed with colon cancer the size of a grapefruit. A few months and less than $500 dollars worth of seeds and pills and it was reduced to a small mass the size of a grape.
The Doctor could only scratch his head and wonder. I have also used it on a dog who had miraculous results. Read the book "World Without Cancer" so you don't have to watch your loved ones die in vain.”
Steve Strasburg
Arkport, NY

“I believe that the B-17 blocked the spread of the cancer, and saved her life…
“My sister had been diagnosed with Thyroid cancer last year. I immediately started her on 500 mg of B-17 twice a day. She had her thyroid removed, as it was aggressive, and fast moving. The Endocrinologist were amazed that that there was NO spreading to the neighboring lymphatic system as is usually the case.
I believe that the B-17 blocked the spread of the cancer, and saved her life.”
Patrick Harris-Worthington
Minneapolis, MN

“The doctors don't understand how this could happened and finally we told them in March, 2006 that I had taken B-17…”
“In 2004 I contracted liver cancer. My doctor said chemo was the next step in my progressing liver cancer. I had been taking all the right healthy vitamins and eating right and now "cancer". When we were told there were NO guarantees that the chemo would work, my wife and I decided to try the B-17!
It was scary because we were not sure of how much to take on a daily basis but started with 100mg 2xday. We worked up to 500mg 2xday for about 5 months and then down to 100mg 2xday at present. I did take zinc and B-12 for 2 weeks before starting the B-17.
The cancer mass went from a 8cm to 6cm in less than a yr. It did not spread and it had shrunk. The drs. don't understand how this could happened and finally we told them in March, 2006 that I had taken B-17. My blood tests came back "normal" last month and all the friends and family are amazed and we are happy.
PS...the dr. called and gave us a phone # of a girl who was suffering as I was and could we call her and tell her what we did? My doctor said chemo was the next step in my progressing liver cancer. So, we did and she is now starting her regiment...”
Dennis Montgomery
Arcadia, CA

"I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer in both ******* in December 2003 and had an operation to remove 2 lumps, some lymph glands and some nerves. Thankfully, I heard about B17 and did not proceed any further with another operation for a half mastectomy, chemo, radiation and tamoxifen.
I am pleased to say that I am doing very well. The doctors at the hospital have ignored me since February 2005. I had requested that they continue to monitor my progress with ultrasound. They insisted that I see a particular radiographer because they wanted to see the results they wanted, whom I knew was a particularly rude and rough ultrasound scanner. So I requested to see another radiographer. They kept sending me appointments for the same radiographer and I kept phoning the Ultrasound Department to change to another radiographer. Each time they said that the consultants refused! This went on for months and from February 2005, I have not heard a word from them.
They were not happy that I had refused their barbaric ways of practising medicine! They told me that if I continued to use alternative medicine, my condition would worsen and I would be back to go on conventional medicine, by which time "it would be too late"! I did offer to give them information on all the supplements and about B17 but they flatly refused saying that they didn't care about what I was doing because it won't work!!! They kept saying that as I was in my late 30s the cancer would advance at a great speed and I should think about my daughter!
That's my story in a nutshell! Keep up the good work." - Laila T, London, UK

Dear Angel,
I don't know if you still remember me. I wrote to you early 2003 about my dog, Life, she's got cancer in her spleen, and was undergoing chemotherapy with the vets. Well, I think you do remember haha. Anyway, just to update on what happened - her chemo finished May 2003, and I've been giving her 3-4 apricot kernels a day ever since. She is now still alive and well. I take her back to the vet every 3 months to do blood counts, and all her white blood cells are within the normal range. So, it has been 1 year and 4 months since her last chemo session, and the vets are very very surprised! Because out of all the vet's chemo patients, Life is the only one alive and still under good condition - which is totally out of their prediction!
Oh well, just want to thank you for the apricot supplies. At that time I really didn't know where to find them. You've opened the door of hope! And now I'm ready to order some more! Annie, Australia

To The BBC
"Sirs. On the 6 o'clock news tonight a medical professor was stated as saying that it was dangerous to try to cure cancer by 'untried' and 'unscientific' alternatives to the usual methods applied in hospitals.

May I say briefly that I have been cured by one of the horrors he mentioned, namely 'eating apricot kernels.'

Some years ago a nasty oozing swelling on my right ear would not respond to any treatment, but just grew in size. It was painful, it messed up my pillow each night and caused me emotional worry. Eventually I was sent to the Lincoln Hospital by my GP. They took a biopsy, and a specialist told me that I had a squamous cell carcinoma and that I would have to have a certain percentage of my ear removed. This was not good news. I deferred having treatment. I said I wanted time to think it over.

As it happened, I soon got to hear about apricot kernels, and began taking about ten each day, together with a generous helping of pineapple plus supplements. Within a couple of weeks I began to notice an arresting of the ulcer, and then it gradually began to decrease in size until finally, after a few months, I was left with nothing but fresh pink skin. The specialist was very interested, and took photographs, and said he would confer with other specialists in the hospital. He asked to see me on a regular basis, in case the cancer had spread to glands in the neck. But after twelve months he declared that I had been healed, and didn't need to attend the clinic any more. Strangely, he didn't seem inclined to discuss the matter further. As I understand it, the medical profession is not willing to accept 'anecdotal evidence.' Let me say this. I am not a medical man but a physicist. Even if Newton's apple is apocryphal, he certainly knew about things falling to the ground, and using his keen mental acuity, formulated the theory of gravitation. Astronomers knew all about the peculiar motion of the orbit of Mercury, but it took the mind of Einstein to provide us with the reason via relativity. These 'anecdotes' were the stuff of scientific method and advancement. If I (and apparently quite a number of others) are finding that skin cancers respond quite quickly to the eating of apricot kernels, the medical profession should be asking why, and coming to a scientific solution, rather than denouncing the anecdotes as 'unscientific', and the apricot kernels as 'dangerous.' Arthur E., Alford, UK

My introduction to apricot kernels was through a friend who lives in New South Wales. She visited my house in September of 2000 and was very sad as she had been diagnosed with metasised bone cancer and had spots on her rib, spine and hip. She previously had had breast cancer some six years before this diagnosis. I know she thought her life expectancy was doomed and I felt quite shattered as I also had breast cancer 18 months before this and had used my friend as a benchmark of how I was going to progress.
When speaking to her some months later to check on her health, she informed me she was eating apricot kernels, and in huge quantities each day. I believe it was around 30. This intrigued me as I had no idea there was any value in the kernel of this fruit but decided to start searching the internet for information and this is when I started to come across Phillip Day and other sites which endorsed this cancer strategy. My friend is now cancer free according to her professor/specialist and a hair test, she has a lavender farm which she works from the bush to the end product and also has alpachas...hard work......what an inspiration she is.

My cancer was bad, aggressive, two tumours in the left breast and 14 of 17 lymph nodes cancerous. I had a mastectomy of the left breast, undertook 4 intense doses of chemo and 6 standard doses, spaced 3 weeks apart. I also had 6 weeks of radiation therapy. I knew I had a fight on my hands as the specialist was very clear to explain that their belief was the cancer would be elsewhere.
I made a decision to take other vitamin supplements, including selenium at the very beginning of my diagnosis and then when I heard about apricot kernels, I thought maintenance and prevention was my next option. With experimentation I had the kernels daily but found I had reflux so interpreted that my body was telling me I did not need to have these so frequently and have now taken them twice weekly...the equivalent of a flat teaspoon of crushed kernels each time. My five year extensive check up happened in March of this year and all my tests are great. I am very well, feel terrific and know I have lots of energy to enjoy a wonderful life with my precious family and friends. My health is my wealth and the help and joy I give to others, who are embarking on a journey with cancer, is a wonderful reward for being a survivor.
Thank you again.
Regards
Judy


In 1987 a sun spot of many on my scalp developed into a malignant cancerous tumour which grew for ten months. For only the last three of those months I began eating apricot kernels daily, but the tumour had already grown to considerable size; invasion of the bone (skull) was suspected. I finally agreed to operation to remove the squamous cell carcinoma on 28/6/1988. The plastic surgeon was puzzled as to how the cancer by then had not spread to other areas.
Over the following year a new tumour started slowly next to the skin graft area whilst I continued to ingest the kernels (Vitamin B17), three times a day before meals. The new tumour was excised without skin grafting on 2/5/89. I declined to undergo follow-up radiotherapy after the operation in spite of dire warnings from medical staff that the cancer would almost certainly spread.
Many years later no cancer has developed so far. I have continued to eat one handful of kernels a day before meals, drinking some water before chewing them to reduce saliva contact. Doctors at Royal Perth Hospital expressed surprise that their predictions had not been realised. I continue also to concentrate on a high fibre and low fat diet. Combination with selenium is said to enhance the process.
The theory of the above is that the cyanide content of fruit kernels (mainly apricots) penetrates and attacks the cancer cells but leaves the healthy cells unaffected. The medical profession, who pour scorn on this theory, and government have caused the sale of the kernels to be banned in the shops and elsewhere. Consequently I have to obtain my own supply of stones and then have the dreary task of hulling them with a mallet. I suffer no ill-effects eating them. Incidentally I have found the kernels are
freely for sale in the United Kingdom! - D.B. Wundowie, Australia

Dear **Just a short line to thank you for all you done for us and all the help you gave us.
we got a phone call from Dorothy's brother George this morning. He went for an x-ray yesterday and got his results this morning. Apparently the lung cancer has gone completely but they still want him to finish his chemotherapy.
We think it is a combination of all the therapies he has been taking, but mainly the B17 as
================================
While going you ask me, May I go
Now you tell me, What should I reply?
Seeing you going, I feel like the fire of
My own lamp is burning my home, I'm shocked.

Some may recite a sad song or play on flute
But now my own mind does not belong to body
As your spirit do not own your body, but
Wasting water on a withered plant in the backyard

Just think the loneliness of the deserted journey
No partner in another way in the hot sand of weeds
There is no noise, but it is very difficult for the bird to fly
That a sun can hide in the sun in the burning sky

Life is not the same when you see the mirror alone
The veil lifts and you go away with the fast breeze
and the flesh of young fruits prompt to the breast
Now you do not even support yourself to as water in palm

I know many stories and tales of Laila Majnoo, Heer Raanjha
But, when dude is in the aspect, so, where to find the moon
I wanted to swim with you in an ocean of unlimited abundance
Not swimming in swimming pool, what is kept in river or ponds

Have you thought anything about your better half before going
It seems as you have deprived me of my light, lamp and oil of life

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Dear Delilah

My, my dear Delilah I was drunk and fell on the floor
there I saw your lover hiding under the couch.
My, my dear Delilah I slit his throat with a knife
there was so much blood on the floor you got
a mop and tried to clean it up before the blood
was running down to the next level.
But I run away before there was a knock on
the door I couldn't take anymore I feel sick
when I see so much blood, forgive me, dear Delilah
for you got twenty years in the goal.
Suhita Dugar May 2014
The sun was going down
The sky was a blue except for a patch- a mutiny of red of orange,
Just above the setting sun.

Rushing to the terrace,
I settled in my spot,
The white swing, my book, and music on my phone.
Aah! Utopia it was.

The backdrop was perfect.
The sky like the dim reading lights
Not too bright, yet enough.
The sun could be just seen in between the mountains.

Before the romance with the words,
I danced around, feeling happiness coursing through my veins.
Then I lost myself within the pages, within the story of Mariam and Laila,
Unconcerned about everything around me.

Oh but this poem is not about a thousand splendid suns
It is about the moment which followed.
A darkness descended, so sudden, it took my breath away.
It was like someone had flicked the switch off.

I looked around, gaping at what had just happened
The sky wasn't black yet, it was blue,
Yet even dimmer.
I sat their awestruck for a few minutes.

And now I don't know why I am writing this.
But their was a sudden flutter of these lines in my mind,
A sudden urge to record these lines, a itch in my fingers to write this.
And now it just seems like a tree which will never bear fruit.
LOVE  TRUE

Difficult it is to say which is love true; incomplete or a union  complete

Calmness, peace, romance are in a story, where lovers unite after they first meet.

Are endings really happy, after lovers choose their partner from a fleet?

Epics show true lovers are separated or have to, for some reason, retreat.

Sitaji joined Ram leaving behind luxuries; but why did Ram, her forsake n ill treat ?

Neither could  Radha unite with  Kanha; he went away for ever, (to Kans defeat).

Poor Meera, a princess turned a vagabond,  in hope, to her Giridhar meet.

Umpteen examples Laila-Majnu, Heer-Ranjha, Shiri-Farhad couldn't unite or meet.

Can a sage wise enlighten me, which is LOVE true; an incomplete one or a union complete

Armin  Dutia Motashaw
==============
While going you ask me, May I go
Now you tell me, What should I reply?
Seeing you going, I feel as the fire of
My own lamp is burning my home, I'm shocked.

Some may recite a sad song or play on flute
But now my own mind does not belong to body
As your spirit do not own your body, but
Wasting water on a withered plant in backyard

Just think the loneliness of the deserted journey
No partner in another way in the hot sand of weeds
There is no noise, but it is very difficult for the bird to fly
That a sun can hide in the sun in the burning sky

Life is not the same when you see the mirror alone
The veil lifts and you go away with the fast breeze
and the flesh of the young fruits prompt to the breast
Now you do not even support yourself to as water in palm

I know many stories and tales of Laila Majnoo, Heer Raanjha
But, when dude is in the aspect, so, where to find the moon
I wanted to swim with you in an ocean of unlimited abundance
Not swimming in swimming pool, what is kept in river or ponds

Have you thought anything about your better half before going
It seems as you have deprived me of my light.lamp and oil of life

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Arlene Corwin Dec 2018
I Knew Her

I knew her;
With her ups and downs;
When she was productive, positive,
Knitting grytlappar, socker och trojor;
Not for self but for we others,
Starting projects, energetic and creative.

Knew her:
With her yearly birthday cake
To celebrate Pernilla, Patrick;
Knew her with her pretty legs, nice clothes, good taste,
Devotion to her Laila, Olga, birds and nature.
Yes, I knew her nature: happy, well and not.

Yet, you never know that whole entire;
Soul entire;
How she searched the Biblical,
For faith we all are searching for.

I knew her parts, her mind her heart,
Good and uneven.
If there is a heaven
“…for the Father’s house has many rooms
And many houses”…
And a place for everyone,
New life begun,
There she is in happiness,
Good health and peace.

I Knew Her 12.16.2018 Birth, Death & In Between III;

*Pia Johannson December 1. 2018
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2018
69 contra...
a ******* crab...
side what copernican?
the tide-spotters
of the Thames,
the ugliest river in Europe...
grey murk just as, lovely,
as the matrix anti
solar energy pale Siberian
tea skies...
  which is why, apparently,
only pregnant Siberian
women drink tea with milk...
Thames... tide coming
in, tide coming out...
watered down bog of mud...
just enough for a party
at Camden and a Clash song...
moves in, moves out,
wriggles like a ******* jellyfish
on asteroid steroids...
pumps the mommy's worth,
came the needle,
the bloated chinese protein
fake's worth of muscle...
sooner an anorexic,
   and the eye of the needle
while we watched the deflating
forearm muscle,
     thet was supposed to be
the waist,
     and the helium,
always with these the ******* helium...
and squeezed testicles
wishing for a reminder
prior to the castrated meat hurdle
at the slaughterhouse....
   the most lucid memory
of my childhood,
   when the slaughterhouse
was still in the urban vicinity...
watching a cow being
towed into the slaughterhouse,
premeditating the end
she could scent in her nostrils...
once upon a time a prized milking
golden goose...
               now: recycling...
but still of use,
not contaminated by animal
testosterone,
notably in lamb meat...
    but that agonising moaning...
see... and that's authentic...
           a true lamb of God
would not have had his little...
ahem... Gethsemane moment
of crisis...
           like that cow, being towed
into the slaughterhouse...
      he was no more a son of God,
than he was the dumb silent
lamb of God...
                    the grandchildren
of the current Sheikhs will burp
for the current extravagance...
just as the Saudis turned their backs
on the Syrians...
                      i too await a worthy
hand, to spell out his name...
Saladin... ah, the romance...
ah the disillusionment with the modern,
ah, ah, ah...
      laila shukri...
               the cow towed into
the slaughterhouse...
     the razor sharp cutting shrill...
a memory, intact, worth over 20+ years...
          and no...
last time I met a vegan...
    she was a struggling anorexic...
           point in question...
why counter the adaptive genetic consistency  
of being lactose tolerant?
sure, there's not water in the desert,
which is why, you don't need
to drink alcohol...
                     start forging for
berries in an icy tundra,
and you'll soon find out that
only modern people, deem alcohol
as a recreational "drunk"...
god forbid that drinking woman,
who turned the ritual bound to Bacchus,
into a cry-into-pillow.
well Bukowski and the drudgery of work
and Mathias Eshlert
and the arbeit macht frei of
work about
to cook chicken wings
    and make a potato salad with spring
greens
and radishes
and i remember a line from a movie
form the 1950s
how radishes were the supposed cause
of going mad
or rather not marrying a girl
because a witch cast her eyes
on the to-be-wed
i mean:

          at the Leeds vs Southampton
match a manager with no high viz
then you know you're dealing
with someone senior
(not important, senior, there's a distinction
at work,
there is no hierarchy as such
only tenure,
there needs to be a philosophy of work
and there really isn't a philosophy
of work
there are no philosophical works
concerning the philosophy of work
but you can mention
Heidegger's analogy of the hammer
in that there are these supposed
laborers who are working
and while working they talk about
philosophy

well currently the hot topic in the workforce
and we are talking a predominantly
male working environment there is talk
about history and esp post-colonial history
of the English
a talk of the English before the union
with the Welsh and the Scots
it's as if these former colonial subjects
think it is easy to find an English identity
from all the quashed qualms with
the Scots
and to be honest

i've seen father bring back construction
schematics
and read them

i finished writing the poem Alz Heinz
and decided to go and buy a bicycle
waited like a **** / a stump
at the bus stop for eternity and realised
with the fresh air hitting me...

yesterday this manager approached me
and gave me a bundle of A3 pages
crowd control schematics
which is a dynamic schematic
of colored dots
on construction schematics
and we're talking dynamics
given i was only in charge
of 3 guys to cordon bag restriction measures
and we weren't even drawn onto the schematic
there were the soft ticket checkers and their
two supervisors, roughly 30 of them
and there were the two response teams
and their supervisors but
there was no... SSE? that's code for EES
we weren't on the schematic
but i was given the schematic drawings
it's a dynamic affair
exposing the left hemisphere to such drawings
so with my right hemisphere
i turned the drawing into a dynamic
could call it spurring on a hallucination
or rather
i just heard of this theory of the brain
and its asymmetry only today
getting the blues from a day off
lying in bed
no i will not listen to the audible book

in the end father picked me up
and we sped to the shop
to flash cash
but instead got turned down
because only used bicycle can be ridden out
of shop not display bicycles
i truly felt like a ******
or perhaps this time is precious
and i shouldn't feel embarrassed to have
family perhaps there's this familial stigma
burn in the air of modern society
that you sometimes experience
the CRAB BUCKET...

         KRABBEIMER
    MISTEIMER...

              i was handed down a holy grail
no, of no importance
my neighbor came round and they chit chat
with mother
no the day is still not spent
but just refreshing the memory:
kept the memory it jolted me in the fresh air
should have kept the schematic memorandum

in the end i was supervising  four supervisors
an ego-trip now
when written
but an ego-destruction in live time
yesterday
negotiating with Leeds fans
and i managed to persuade people to throw
away their rucksacks
unprecedented when on gate 3
working with the quadrant manager
Marc "zee Frenchie"
i.e. i was tested for quadrant stature
on the east stand with the two staircases
if i were to be given both staircases
and Altantik Way
but just saying the fact that i was given
the schematics
it almost felt like i advanced
away from construction
but construction made alive
by people using venues post-construction
and these are no houses
we're talking about
but the two arguments that make my life
easier when dealing with rowdy customers
(of experience)
is that: you don't walk with a drunken
hard-on to argue and fight in a supermarket
so please excuse our staff from
dampening your little euphoric excursion
to watch a concert or a football match
never mind
i always thought that supposedly appreciating
any sport while intoxicated
is the ultimate debauchery
of spirit and of heart and the **** of fog of mind
because when it comes to utilizing
alcohol and **** i need
music and the capacity of literacy
a literate agency
a stress of not being a surgeon
an architect a werewolf or pirate
in the sexed-up mixocology of feminine hormones
of studying attractiveness levels
ugh that 1 - 10 scaling
like it's so ******* vague but so vogue
so distraught am i
ugh...

         12h standing the commute sit-down
doesn't help
i need to kneel to relax the shins
i need to kneel and write
idle hand's ******* jesus
or satan
last time i heard the devil appreciated
more the idle pleasure of typing
typo itchy fingertips
or if no itchy fingertips then
people biting their fingernails
last time i heard
keratin does not taste of carrot
and there is not carrot taste to be found
in biting nails
or ******* hair
although i must agree that i love
a little bit of hair just above the ****
maybe i'm old fashioned
but that's my sexuality
and i have had Ilona aged 20
when she was all happily shaved
but then i think about:

puff pastry, candyfloss
and the burrowing of the nose
in both hair then oyster of the *****
and then i remind myself of, only recently,
scratching myself till i bled on
the stubble that appeared with chin
after a 10 year tenure of Robinson Crusoe
although i must say
with some Turkish tailoring in the barber
category of aesthetics
but i do like some fluff just above
the **** i'm about to eat
and if Jesus was a Woman
i would have given an oyster to eat
instead of bread

    and Eidie this is a religious experience
to counter your "chirst":
cosmopolitan joke
choke i swear to god the apycryp...

nassfotze!                nassfotze!

i'm done with spelling this one word got away
i will keep it live
and abrupt
seriously there is no need to oblige the editorial
process this is not getting printed
but then printing was cheap
back around 900ad in Baghadad
i don't understand the European fascination
with firsts
that printing press was hardly revolutionary
but made so by the second christians
of Alexandria i.e. the Mongols in Baghdad
set us back over 1000 years
what a trip
thank you: so many people in Pakistan
have the surname Khan
like that was the Mongolian ***** deposit
that precipitated with the surname
that was once a title

Genghis probably Great Magnitude of Charlie
Can do what the **** i can
not-transliterated as Khan with the surd H
to give an almost diacritical emphasis
given its inclusion but overall silence...
the eyes see what the tongue is ought not speak
the eyes see what the tongue ought not speak
                     the eyes see what the tongue is not to speak...
wow wow wow what a strange word
this ought...

             oh jeez and Louise and i'm getting
all tremor enamored
all tremor enamored
30 messages no reply
finally i replied after three days of 12h hour
shin breaking shin straining
like torture
before kneeling and writing into the night
high puff no ****! and somehow i'm gone
like there was no magic act

oh how i'd wish for this earth to swallow me
how i've grown
and maybe understand women
through that little tickle
and then downing myself with *******
today i managed to **** a *****
from a ****
honestly i just tweaked my fingers
on a semi limp ****
and i ******* lazily into my underwear
and the stuff of life soon clotted
and all fluid glue associations shrunk
and it felt like the botanical world
of talking trees didn't realise
anything about the existence of mushrooms
and that fungus is not exactly
a botanical leech
parasite i mean a turnip is not a fungus
is not a mistletoe
is what i missed when towing mist and le
and ole
and it just needs to feel like a conversation
of consolations
and it can't just be a babe screetching
on the other end of the telephone
and me trying to compliment and reward her
face because that's what she's primarily
concerned with: her face
as i was somewhat too
because of my double chin
or whatever
and me using a beard as a contortion feature
not a tool
since the face uses it and not the hands
it can't be called a tool
but a feature
since the face like hands does many things
and it's the work of hefty
crowd management techniques
that disparage me from the service provided
at retail shops
where things are sold
yet but this is premeditated
i'm going to have a good time mentality
of spending money in advance
this industry concerns itself with
CREDITORS
and not DEBTORS
we entertain creditors -
not by how they spent the money
but how they spent the money in advance
to be there:
dasein - which is so far removed from what
Heidegger might have implied
in the airs of the Black Forest in complete
dissociation from throngs
and the bellows of Behemoth
o the pangs of the hundebeiarbeiten -
the talk of police dogs you have to see it
the talk of police horses you have to see it
up close and personal
and you have to **** the ego and experience
of the body of id in all its glory
constipated, tired, hungry, wet, cold,
hot, angry, stupid, angry, stupid
you have to shut off all narrative
and so many people in this Wembley-Mecca
this trance like mantra of a h'um dl'um
ah'um dl'um -
indeed that apostrophe could be indeed judged
as the letter Y'od
             Yyod                  why-yod of the wide ought
and then hide the letters GH
and instead OH'T...
         like you write the letters but hide their sounds
in Gloucester
asked me this guy Andrews
who works with the Nigerian Sunday
(his name, Monday Monday,
literary scene had a Friday)
Andrews is Ghanaian
and he's fresh
i mean he's not what one could call
descended from slaves
honestly you get to pick up
the African original the african original
pride and love for life
not this stench of post-colonial dread
of: jeez still living with these former slave owners
and ooh come on why didn't
we go back to Africa
and why are the old Africans coming to Europe
to tease us or whatever
spiraling with stadium concerts calling for
Africa Unite blah blah semi Black ******
also comes with Black Jesus...
don't ask me how but honestly Black Jesus
comes with Black ******...

Abu Dribble i feel like escaping into naked
lunch rather not fascination with Arab historiology
from the 10th century
or a German thinker...
although i must know that if dog in german is hund
pies in ******
then horse in english a koń in polish
means horse in german is...herseh?
           no... the diacritical mark doesn't help
no room for transliteration like
in semitic languages
between 'rab and                                        Heb'

what is horse in german? d'uh!

pferdbeiarbeiten...

            not the sort of horses i swear are we the last
people to work as humans with animals
are we the last stronghold
we are not Bukowski genius to drink and read
sparingly the postman
i mean we are not farmers because farmers
no longer use animals
to work
instead
i mean: are we the last professions on this planet
to work with animals
i love working with animals
so much so that i'm petting one on the side
if i were to take a cat into the life cycle
of a dog or a horse
we breed these animals for a purpose

have you ever worked with horses
and dogs
in a crowd management environment
it's like double the high
of being high at a concert
when you come back from work and unwind
and have the side project to write
down everything bubbling to the boil in your
head your ego-death
and then the ego-resurrection
with a concentrated focus on narrative
that requires it to be written down
rather than aired / thought

and then release like a sling with no shot
just the snap of the sling
against the skin to wake up

KREISEL

  kreisel...

          spinning top is not even a word...
it's a worded ideogram...
without an actual ideogram
SPNNNGTP   looks better...
best to have that printed and framed
and advertised...

       Bączek...  well then... my neighbour
brought me one of those in a 50p
bag of goodies...
there was that and there was blowing
bubble machinery
i don't know does she think me *******
or happy or did i come to the fore
of children at large events and
i was authority and i was benevolence
and i'm still thinking of the jobs
that make humans interact with animals
and i know it's not in farming
as such especially when pig farming
i mean farming with plow and not plough
or maybe the two are not that far apart
because this is not the sort of euphoria
experienced at an event
this is a private euphoria
and not simply of just being there...
i.e. the opposite of Dasein
the opposite of Dasein is Seinda -
being there i.e. a place an event a polity
a necropolis is by far the best strain
flex and then thrown into this disarray
   of fates and omens and ills of people since now
even these people venture out
in the full abode of sky... wheelchairs and scissors
and schizoids...

i said i need to write this is not a novel
if anything this is also not Zukofsky's A
because by god that looks good
on paper but not in that voice
              since i'm thinking that's the last masquerade
but still the impetus to write
and why not record with Charlie but then
Charlie etc was also in the same circumstance
as me or then
sober does it: great parody of the formal
                    in whatever order of magnitude -
yes those wax eyes wore
off and then night came and i toked some more
and not to excess in drinking i obeyed
t.v. rules for half an hour
but then the show was so disastrous
that the only thing i was looking at was
laila rouass
   and thinking of my woman and yes he's 48
and she's 52
and i'm pretty sure Edie wants to make
it adamantly so
that there's that tease of *******
in that she's 55 and i'm 38 and she's still not sure
what
in what the hell would that mean
when the ages shrink
and then there's also the age disparity
between the other forbidden love of necrophilia
and that's not really as prominent
in society as *******
                                         well who knows
the statistics show...

                             but at least now: silence...
i have not given excuses but
pointers as to what i also do: alias no alias
persona non grata
                                should i fly above the aqua politik -
sieve through
this spectacular advent of man
this spectacular celebration
because honest to god and winter months apart
there is this air of celebration in man
with the obvious hags and anchors
and drags from the past but still the perserverence
is there to mindlessly go forward
without any static of but one universe
instead so many others to come
should this only be one experience
i doubt there might be more
with brain-deaths and heartaches
                          
                                      brain-labyrinths
and loud-libraries
                          or those pirates -
the pigeons at Baker Street...
some travel as far as Amersham
and Chesham on the Metropolitan Line
for their holidays from the city
you can see them on the trains anchored
coming into the carriages looking for
pecking orders...
and then as the train speeds on tracks
they fly about less
like bothersome flies
but as frightened animals: that they are...

                  and we are not?

— The End —