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MAI BAHV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI
JO BIKE SADDA HI BIN TOLE
TANHAI HU HAR US KHAT KI  JO
JO PADHA GYA HAI BIN KHOLE

HAR AANSU KO HAR PATTHAR TAK
PAHUNCHANE KI LACHAR HUK
MAI SAHAJ ARTH  UN SABDO KA
JO SUNE GYE HAI BIN BOLE

JO KABI NAHI BARSA KHUL KAR
HAR US BADA L KA PANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE
SITA KIA RAM KAHANI HU

MAI BHAV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI.
............

KI JINKE SAPNO KE TAJ MAHAL
BAN NE  SE PAHLE TUT GAYE
JI HAATHO ME DO HAATH KABHI
AANE  SE PAHLE CHUT GYE
DHARTI  PAR JINKE KHONE AUR
PAANE KI AJAB KAHANI HAI
KISHMAT KI DEVI MAAN GYE
PAR PRANAY DEVETA RUTH GYE

MAI MAILI CHADAR WALE US
KABIRA KI AMRIT VANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE
SITA KKI RAM KAHANI HU

KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI SEEKHA HU
APNE JAKHMO KO KHUDSEE KAR
KUCH JAAN GYE MAI HASHTA HU
BHEETAR BHEETAR ANSU PEEKAR

KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI HU VIRODH SE
UPJI EK KHUDAAR VIJAY
KUCH KAHTE HAI  MAI MARTA HU
KHUD ME JEEKAR  KHUD ME MARKAR
LEKIN MAI HAR CHATURI KI
SOCHI SAMJHI NADANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER  BINA GAYE
SITA KI RAM KAHANI HU...

WRITTEN BY   ::::::  SHASHANK KUMAR DWIVEDI
Mai bhav suchi un bhavo ki
jo bike sada hi bin tole
Tanhai hu har us khat ki
jo padha gya h bin khole..

Har aanshu ko har patthar tak
pahuchane ki laachar huk
Mai sahaj arth un sabdo ka
jo sune gye h bin bole..

Jo kabhi nahi barsha khul kar
har uss badal ka paani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki Ram kahani hu..

Ki jinke sapno ke Taj -Mahal
ban ne se pahle tut gaye
Jin haatho me do haath kabhi
aane se pahle chut gaye
Dharti par jinke khone aur
paane ki ajab kahani h
Kishmat ki devi maan gye
par pranay devta ruth gaye..

Mai maili chadar wale uss
Kabira ki amrit vaani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki raam kahani hu..

Kuch kahte hai mai sikha hu
apne jakhmo ko khud see kar
Kuch jaan gaye mai hashta hu
bhitar bhitar aanshu peekar..

Kuch kahte hai mai virodh se
uppji ek khuddar vijay
Kuch kahte hai mai marta hu
khud me jeekar khud me markar..

Leekin mai har chaturai ki
sochi samjhi  naadani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki Ram kahani hu
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook-https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Gat-Usig Oct 2013
Aniversari ng Mag-jowa
Mansari ng Mag-jowa,
Valentayns Dey
Sa loob ng bartolina.


May wan en onli,

Kahapon kaututan ko si Bebot,
Nakaposas ang mga kamay at 'di makakilos
Nakatali ang mga paa sa kadenang
May bolang bakal,
Si Bebot ay matitigok na.
Nagkaututan kami sa gawing madilim,
Tangan ang Gud Morning,
Pamunas ng luha.
Humahagulhol dahil kay Dok Puti,
Hinahanda na nito
Ang kanyang kahahantungan,
Said na said ang mga hikbi;
Pinid na pinid ang mga kagalakan,
Gustong pahintuin ang bawat saglit.
Di mapigil ang hatol,
Nasa dulo ng karayom
Nakasalalay ang lahat;
Unti-unting naniningkit si Bebot,
Ginagapos na siya ni Dok Puti sa katre;
Walang sinuman ang makakaampat
Sa naturang likido.
Kahapon, kaututan ni Dok Puti si Bebot.
"Lav, sapitin mo nawa ang iyong katahimikan."


Sa Valentayns Dey,
kahit sinong mag-jowa.
-  Juan Dela Cruz, M.D.


P.S.
Alay sa bawat magkasintahang pinagtagpo't
pinaglayo ng pagkakataon.
A note of seeming truth and trust
                      Hid crafty observation;
                And secret hung, with poison’d crust,
                      The dirk of defamation:
                A mask that like the gorget show’d
                      Dye-varying, on the pigeon;
                And for a mantle large and broad,
              He wrapt him in Religion.
                   (Hypocrisy-à-la-Mode)


Upon a simmer Sunday morn,
     When Nature’s face is fair,
I walked forth to view the corn
     An’ ***** the caller air.
The risin’ sun owre Galston muirs
     Wi’ glorious light was glintin,
The hares were hirplin down the furrs,
     The lav’rocks they were chantin
          Fu’ sweet that day.

As lightsomely I glowr’d abroad
     To see a scene sae gay,
Three hizzies, early at the road,
     Cam skelpin up the way.
Twa had manteeles o’ dolefu’ black,
     But ane wi’ lyart linin;
The third, that gaed a wee a-back,
     Was in the fashion shining
          Fu’ gay that day.

The twa appear’d like sisters twin
     In feature, form, an’ claes;
Their visage wither’d, lang an’ thin,
     An’ sour as ony slaes.
The third cam up, hap-step-an’-lowp,
     As light as ony lambie,
An’ wi’ a curchie low did stoop,
     As soon as e’er she saw me,
          Fu’ kind that day.

Wi’ bonnet aff, quoth I, “Sweet lass,
     I think ye seem to ken me;
I’m sure I’ve seen that bonie face,
     But yet I canna name ye.”
Quo’ she, an’ laughin as she spak,
     An’ taks me by the han’s,
“Ye, for my sake, hae gien the ****
     Of a’ the ten comman’s
          A screed some day.

“My name is Fun—your cronie dear,
     The nearest friend ye hae;
An’ this is Superstition here,
     An’ that’s Hypocrisy.
I’m gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair,
     To spend an hour in daffin:
Gin ye’ll go there, you runkl’d pair,
     We will get famous laughin
          At them this day.”

Quoth I, “With a’ my heart, I’ll do’t:
     I’ll get my Sunday’s sark on,
An’ meet you on the holy spot;
     Faith, we’se hae fine remarkin!”
Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time
     An’ soon I made me ready;
For roads were clad frae side to side
     Wi’ monie a wearie body
          In droves that day.

Here, farmers ****, in ridin graith,
     Gaed hoddin by their cotters,
There swankies young, in braw braidclaith
     Are springin owre the gutters.
The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang,
     In silks an’ scarlets glitter,
Wi’ sweet-milk cheese in mony a whang,
     An’ farls, bak’d wi’ butter,
          Fu’ crump that day.

When by the plate we set our nose,
     Weel heaped up wi’ ha’pence,
A greedy glowr Black Bonnet throws,
     An’ we maun draw our tippence.
Then in we go to see the show:
     On ev’ry side they’re gath’rin,
Some carryin dails, some chairs an’ stools,
     An’ some are busy bleth’rin
          Right loud that day.


Here some are thinkin on their sins,
     An’ some upo’ their claes;
Ane curses feet that fyl’d his shins,
     Anither sighs an’ prays:
On this hand sits a chosen swatch,
     Wi’ *****’d-up grace-proud faces;
On that a set o’ chaps at watch,
     Thrang winkin on the lasses
          To chairs that day.

O happy is that man and blest!
     Nae wonder that it pride him!
Whase ain dear lass that he likes best,
     Comes clinkin down beside him!
Wi’ arm repos’d on the chair back,
     He sweetly does compose him;
Which by degrees slips round her neck,
     An’s loof upon her *****,
          Unken’d that day.

Now a’ the congregation o’er
     Is silent expectation;
For Moodie speels the holy door,
     Wi’ tidings o’ salvation.
Should Hornie, as in ancient days,
     ‘Mang sons o’ God present him,
The vera sight o’ Moodie’s face
     To’s ain het hame had sent him
          Wi’ fright that day.

Hear how he clears the points o’ faith
     Wi’ rattlin an’ wi’ thumpin!
Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath
     He’s stampin, an’ he’s jumpin!
His lengthen’d chin, his turn’d-up snout,
     His eldritch squeal and gestures,
Oh, how they fire the heart devout
     Like cantharidian plaisters,
          On sic a day!

But hark! the tent has chang’d its voice:
     There’s peace and rest nae langer;
For a’ the real judges rise,
     They canna sit for anger.
Smith opens out his cauld harangues,
     On practice and on morals;
An’ aff the godly pour in thrangs,
     To gie the jars an’ barrels
          A lift that day.

What signifies his barren shine
     Of moral pow’rs and reason?
His English style an’ gesture fine
     Are a’ clean out o’ season.
Like Socrates or Antonine
     Or some auld pagan heathen,
The moral man he does define,
     But ne’er a word o’ faith in
          That’s right that day.

In guid time comes an antidote
     Against sic poison’d nostrum;
For Peebles, frae the water-fit,
     Ascends the holy rostrum:
See, up he’s got the word o’ God
     An’ meek an’ mim has view’d it,
While Common Sense has ta’en the road,
     An’s aff, an’ up the Cowgate
          Fast, fast that day.

Wee Miller niest the Guard relieves,
     An’ Orthodoxy raibles,
Tho’ in his heart he weel believes
     An’ thinks it auld wives’ fables:
But faith! the birkie wants a Manse,
     So cannilie he hums them;
Altho’ his carnal wit an’ sense
     Like hafflins-wise o’ercomes him
          At times that day.

Now **** an’ ben the change-house fills
     Wi’ yill-caup commentators:
Here’s cryin out for bakes an gills,
     An’ there the pint-stowp clatters;
While thick an’ thrang, an’ loud an’ lang,
     Wi’ logic an’ wi’ Scripture,
They raise a din, that in the end
     Is like to breed a rupture
          O’ wrath that day.

Leeze me on drink! it gies us mair
     Than either school or college
It kindles wit, it waukens lear,
     It pangs us fou o’ knowledge.
Be’t whisky-gill or penny-wheep,
     Or ony stronger potion,
It never fails, on drinkin deep,
     To kittle up our notion
          By night or day.

The lads an’ lasses, blythely bent
     To mind baith saul an’ body,
Sit round the table weel content,
     An’ steer about the toddy,
On this ane’s dress an’ that ane’s leuk
     They’re makin observations;
While some are cozie i’ the neuk,
     An’ forming assignations
          To meet some day.

But now the Lord’s ain trumpet touts,
     Till a’ the hills rae rairin,
An’ echoes back return the shouts—
     Black Russell is na sparin.
His piercing words, like highlan’ swords,
     Divide the joints an’ marrow;
His talk o’ hell, whare devils dwell,
     Our vera “sauls does harrow”
          Wi’ fright that day.

A vast, unbottom’d, boundless pit,
     Fill’d fou o’ lowin brunstane,
Whase ragin flame, an’ scorching heat
     *** melt the hardest whun-stane!
The half-asleep start up wi’ fear
     An’ think they hear it roarin,
When presently it does appear
     ’Twas but some neibor snorin,
          Asleep that day.

‘Twad be owre lang a tale to tell,
     How mony stories past,
An’ how they crouded to the yill,
     When they were a’ dismist:
How drink gaed round in cogs an’ caups
     Amang the furms an’ benches:
An’ cheese and bred frae women’s laps
     Was dealt about in lunches
          An’ dauds that day.

In comes a gausie, **** guidwife
     An’ sits down by the fire,
Syne draws her kebbuck an’ her knife;
     The lasses they are shyer:
The auld guidmen, about the grace
     Frae side to side they bother,
Till some ane by his bonnet lays,
     And gi’es them’t like a tether
          Fu’ lang that day.

Waesucks! for him that gets nae lass,
     Or lasses that hae naething!
Sma’ need has he to say a grace,
     Or melvie his braw clathing!
O wives, be mindfu’ ance yoursel
     How bonie lads ye wanted,
An’ dinna for a kebbuck-heel
     Let lasses be affronted
          On sic a day!

Now Clinkumbell, wi’ rattlin tow,
     Begins to jow an’ croon;
Some swagger hame the best they dow,
     Some wait the afternoon.
At slaps the billies halt a blink,
     Till lasses strip their shoon:
Wi’ faith an’ hope, an’ love an’ drink,
     They’re a’ in famous tune
          For crack that day.

How monie hearts this day converts
     O’ sinners and o’ lasses
Their hearts o’ stane, gin night, are gane
     As saft as ony flesh is.
There’s some are fou o’ love divine,
     There’s some are fou o’ brandy;
An’ monie jobs that day begin,
     May end in houghmagandie
          Some ither day.
I'm twenty seven years old
Not, old by any standard
But, in my world...I'm seven
Seven years removed from an IED
Seven years away from the day that changed me
Seven years into my new life
We were on a routine mission
If you can call anything in Khandahar
routine
Convoy escort, some press folks
A country singer and his band
And us....always us
We were Military Police
Bringing 'em in, taking 'em home
there we were,
Same trip, same road
same barren landscape
same potholes
same, same, same
Until November 4th, 2005
Nothing has been the same since then
I'm a Sargeant, Military Police
William Blankenship
Fort Hood, Texas...just a kid...until
We were on Operation Squire
routine....all routine
The first humvee hit an IED
flipped right in front of us
the bus of civilians, stopped
radio chatter like mad
Rocket fire took out the Stryker LAV
Blew it to bits
No survivors
We were pinned down
We didn't return fire
Couldn't....didn't know where to
And had to get the civilians to safety
We were only 2 miles from base
LAVs were on the road immediately
I don't remember much about it
Just, that it was routine
Started with the headaches
took about a month
Then, the nightmares
Sent me back home to get over it
To a Veterans Hospital in Texas
Still saw the humvee flip
Heard the screams
Saw the fire, and watched the explosion behind
And I wasn't sleeping anymore
Couldn't handle bright lights for a time
Still can't, but not as bad
Doctors said it was PTSD
I said, "you think?"
What else could it be
Two years they kept me in there
Two years I saw them die
Then...they hooked me up with a service dog
New program they said
He'd keep me relaxed
I couldn't take care of myself
And now, they want me to have a dog
I said, I'd try it...but no guarantees
Said his name was Squire
funny....I knew that name from somewhere
But, couldn't remember where
Big, oafish, Newf he was
Like a small fridge with hair
And big, brown eyes
Squire....
First day he just sat and looked at me
Waited until I started to move
And he moved with me
Came over, and pushed his head under my hand
It's been that way ever since
I move, he moves
I eat, he eats three times as much
We bonded pretty quick
I still get the dreams,
but, Squire knows and he's there
Under my hand, calming me down
That's all he does, calms me down
He doesn't take away the dreams
But, he helps
I don't know how
But, he helps
They still die, and I still scream
But, not as often
Just routine....
Angel Lav Aug 2013
xo

A year passed, I still like you.
And I know deep in myself that I have loved you.
Although, it's hard for me to keep holding back,
Pretending not to be clingy in any act.

Twice, we've seen each other;
Longing my heart for another.
But there's really no sparks ongoing,
I guess I should stop hoping.

This sensation keeps on coming back,
Ending this is what I really lack.
I am so helpless forgetting about you,
Hence, my heart breaks waiting for cue.

About you is what I don't understand, Having a cold heart is what in your hand. Wishing you were here is all my aspiration, But giving me heartaches in this infatuation.

xo,
Angel Lav
Edna Sweetlove Sep 2015
I can't ******* believe it
it's enough to make you want
to blow your own ******* head off
it really ******* is.

Crueller than cruel are the women
who make my life a living hell
lurking like Lovecraftian monsters
in internet chatrooms and forums
waiting to break my poor purple *****
on internet site after internet site
hiding their ugliness
under a ******* bushel.

I must be a dumb *******
but I really thought yes maybe
this time yes maybe just maybe
finally after more ****-ups
than a cut-price ***** has per year
and I one more time fell for their lies
and another date went wrong
and my poor bleeding heart
is broken like a duck's beak
hit by a twin-bore shotgun cannonade.

It was a warm summer's evening
with a humid atmosphere guaranteed
to make my nuts sweat freely
and we had agreed to meet
at a quiet spot in the city park
down by the old public lav
where the **** frolic after midnight
leaving the place littered
with filled ribbed condoms
after indiscrimate **** love sessions.

I eagerly re-read the print-out
from the new internet site
(www.fuckabroadforfree.com)
where kindly ******* fate had brought us
together like lost souls in a hurricane
seeking solace in hot ***** *******
and I felt sure your byline
'I love banging ugly strangers'
coupled with the open-crotch photos
could only lead to good times for all.

I hoped you would be a looker
even though the snapshots
you had boldly posted tended
to concentrate on the other end
where your twin holes
were in evidence big-time
so my readers can imagine
my intense ******* disppointment
when I finally saw you
with your tiny bald pointed head
peeping hopefully out
of the ****** rags you were wearing.

I think I was probably justified
in using the claw hammer
I had wisely brought with me
just in case and I must say
in my own ******* defence
love isn’t just a matter of aesthetics
and maybe I'm no raving Adonis myself
but you really have to draw the line
somewhere and you were on the other side
by a very long chalk
so very sadly and reluctantly
I gave into anger and let you have it
and please believe me when I say
that the sound of your death scream
will probably not keep me awake at night
as I drown my sorrows
in solitary *** and single malt whisky.
*******, brave new world!
Pay attention everyone said Lilliput
I have an important announcement
We're going to have a wonderful picnic
For our family on Thursday , poppits only
The groans were heard all over the palace
Are we riding there , asked Horsey Anne
No we jolly well are not
And you scrum half Zara , are not either
We're motorcading it , without staff
Another really loud royal moan
We are each taking everything we need
And that includes you ex pork of York
'OOHH NNOO' she gurgly grunted
Less of that , and NO toe suckers allowed
Nor arrive in a kiddies helicopter either
And you Wills missus more clothing
You make my  blue blood run cold
Next Thursday then , you picnickers

What have you brought asked Lilliput
Silver knives and forks hoarsed Anne
Paper plates grunted Flossy Fergie
Plastic cups , whimpered Wills missus
Lav paper for tissues, gidded up Zara
Big tablecloth bellowed Camilla
Have none of you brought food said Lilliput
'NO' they all mardily whinnied
None of us even thought about it

And you mumsy H.R.H. what have you brought

'NOBODY questions me , you pipsqueaks
LET'S ALL GO HOME NOW !
Anna Nov 2018
#1
gå ned på det lokale beboerhus og drik noget urtete. læs den bog du har haft stående på reolen i årtier. fortæl din mor om din dag. græd til en film der rør dig som ingen dreng har kunne røre dig før. invitér dine venner over til gulerødder og hummus. drik te. lav en playliste med sange der gør dig søvnig; gå tidligt i seng og lyt så til den playliste. forkæl dig selv med din yndlingssnack efter en lang dag. hav altid en paraply i tasken, så du er forberedt i disse regnfulde dage. få nu lavet det ekstra hul i øret, som du så gerne ville have. og skriv nu til den tatovør du synes er så god. lav en kande te. genoptag kontakten til gamle venner og bekendtskaber. fjern dine neglelakrester og mal dine negle i en ny farve. drik nu noget mere te!
fokusér på de små ting.
forkæl dig selv, som du ville forkæle én du elsker. det fortjener du.
llcb Dec 2014
Balancen er daglig mellem om vi efterlader et hul i den tid vi har fået os, eller om tidens dyne er lappet fra højre og venstre med oplevelser af træhuler med meterlange lyskæder og lidt for meget indomita vin en ydmyg tirsdag aften. Er der en ting jeg ved, så er det at vi ikke selv bestemmer start - og sluttidspunkter, og **** altså vi bestemmer nok heller ikke selv hvilke dage solen skal glo lidt på os, fordi den synes vi er smukke. Det er der en gud eller en tilfældighed eller en kærlighed eller måske min uvidenhed til at afgøre. Men jeg ved en ting, som forlyder således; din tid er til din disponering. Det er den gave tiden har givet dig, nu hvor den har dårlig samvittighed over at den er begrænset.  Du vælger selv for fanden, og du vælger dagligt. Hver dag, hele tiden. Så vælg det som er godt for dig. Kys dem du vil, fordi du for helvede fik for meget vin og elsker dem en lille smule det øjeblik. Lav den opgave om moskusokse i nordnorge, fordi viljen til fuldførelse gavner mere end du overhovedet aner. Skriv det læserbrev, fordi der skal gøres noget ved det problem og du har lysten til udførelsen af initiativet. Du kender dig og jeg kender mig, og tiden kan sku godt bruges på en velunderrettet og skøn, skøn, skøn måde samtidig. Så brug din tid, så du gør godt for smukke du.
Edna Sweetlove Mar 2017
scrawled on public lav wall
expression of desire
meet for cockfun
bring own lubricant
hateful avarice
petty meanness
******* FATFACE
Good, innit?
llcb Sep 2015
Jeg var så lykkelig, og du var så lykkelig, og vi var så glade og lykkelige i øjeblikket. Vi var så forelskede den aften at byen bare hang som et maleri bag os. Du talte med en lav stemme, der fik højlydte grin ud ad mig, og så råbte vi et par gange at folk så smukke ud. Jeg tror at vi udgjorde et flot par der i mørket ved siden af neonlysene i søerne. Du sagde at du elskede mig fra Alaska og tilbage, og jeg svarede at du var skør. Du kastede dit hovede tilbage og smilte til hvad der lignede himlen, og så tog vi metroen fra Frederiksberg til Nørreport og løb til Marstalsgade med en rosé vi havde lånt af kiosken. Ad den smalle gade kiggede på høje bygninger og lod som om de alle var Eiffeltårnet. Vi kiggede ind ad folks små vinduer, og så de liv som jo foregår bag mure af beton. Et par som skændtes, og vi svor at det aldrig skulle være os. En far der lagde sin datter til at sove i en drømmeseng, som fik tårer frem i mine øjne. Du spurgte hvorfor jeg græd på en fredag aften, og jeg fortalte dig om min far som var forskruet og fanget i en billedramme på en villavej. Så kyssede du mig og sagde at mennesker bliver skøre af at leve i billedrammer. At de før eller siden knækker glasset, fordi at alt ilten forsvinder. Vi ville aldrig leve i en billedramme. Vi var de typer som man ville se på storskærm over Rådhuspladsen. Røde neonlys over alle menneskerne i billedrammer. Vi sov i min lejlighed på gulvet, fordi at sengen var for mennesker i billedrammer og vi var jo neonlys i forhold til de glødepærer. Og da vi vågnede, kiggede du på mig som om alt ilten var forsvundet ud ad rummet. Undskyldende over at have trukket vejret for dybt. Jeg forstod det ikke, men du fortrød mig lidt tror jeg. Du fortalte at du skulle hjem, hvor du derefter kindkyssede mig og forsvandt ud ad entreen. Du var ikke forelsket i mig trods gode kys og neonlys. Jeg var lidt ked af at jeg nåede at forelske mig i løbet af en nat.

Men hey det var jo ikke din skyld. Det er jo hvad der sker, når man drikker hvidvin på tom mave.
betterdays Dec 2015
the stockings were hung
then unstrung
the gifts wrapped
then opened and scrapped

eyes open wide, at gifts given with pride
forgive us dear lord for the little white lies

I adore it, no it won't leave my side
Where can we find a place for,
this monstrosity to hide


The church bells were rung
the carols sung,
All the while thing of the traveling miles
for the holiday away in the summer sun

Dinner was baked bbqed and burped
Wine was drunk, now Uncle Albert
is dancing, just shy of naked
drunk as a skunk, Aunt Em in the throes
of the holiday funk....has declared her new teeth
have been sunk into the trilfle....of which she is
elbows in, having a rifle, through
Dad's mid nap, and we are counting down the seconds
between each snore, Mum still asking any one for any more pav
And Malcom has dissapeared to the lav

and this is the Christmas, that we have had,
and tho it sounds dorky....I am a wee bit glad....

Tommorow we box ourselves in the car
travelling, travelling o so far
and back to the bickering, backstabbing and fights
but we practise peace to all men at Christmas
as is our right....
but with da and his snoring,
we have no chance of a silent night.
bit of fun for Christmas......an amalgam of many Christmas's and family "doos"
and it was granpa who snored"like a wounded bull"  not dad....lol
Der er områder af mig der ikke er menneskelige.
Statisk elektricitet som jeg udånder gennem min munds korridor.
Mine fingerspidser er blå, og jeg kan ikke mærke DIG.
Jeg er alt for lav og jeg kan ikke nå dig.
Min katastrofebevidsthed er skrækkeligt fin og træder jeg forkert,
er det ****.
I mistillid frygter jeg et væsen der dukker op og kvæler mig.
At du forstøver uden at skrige mit navn.
Én enkelt gang.
For verden.
Der er ingen der må se os.
Uden værn.
Jeg drømmer om en kognition.
En kulminering af ærlighed, der får verden til at falde sammen.
Ét øjeblik der slipper lyset ind.
Hvor fortiden flyder.
Vi skal aldrig mere falde
Vi lander på fødderne.
Et ukendt humør passerer min hjerne i takt med, at vi rammer jorden.
I et sindssygt øjeblik af ærlighed.
Tallerken, gaffel, glas og krus.
Gryder, pande, høj og lav.
Køleskabet min bedsteven.
Ovn, vask og ske.
Rindende vand og plaster på såret.
Skærebræt og store knive.
Blod på bordet, blod på salaten.
Et højt irriteret brøl.
Tekopper, kaffekopper, grimme kopper, flotte kopper.
Skåle og dybetallerkner.
Vandkander, brødkrummer og forgamle rester.
Morgen, aften, nat og dag.
Altid og aldrig.
“tøm skraldespanden inden du går!”
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
Post-Summer, still sunny
There's too many humans here, 
he said
entering the pub, drunk withal
loudly talking about his kids 
and whatnot
quite that many humans on his own
The girl next seems unfussed, 
continues with
laptop and Guinness. Me, I
just popped in for a little
wine actually 
or rather to use the lav 
making the most of it as one does
trying to calm my mind as
I do
The food looks so lovely but
I don't allow me a little pick-me-
up I
wonder about the outsides,
forget about my new Didion,
always easily
distracted, by his cologne
and more and more plates, 
smells lovely
To be able enjoy the moment
the paper feels beautiful 
and I 
really tried on too many clothes 
today yet the sea helped 
a lot 
Tempted to couch and binge never-endingly
first one needs to get going 
alright yah
Tempted for another glass still 
first one needs to keep

the head from spinning
the fridge from empty
the shopping from a 
yellow sticker hunt

The world's full of useless 
purposeful days, come to think
of it.
as jerry's
belligerent brung
his ***
to harry
her cheat
she sat
there in
lav and
really acted
amazed and
with her
blazon chest
that she
showed upstairs
was prime
of her
life now
Yenson Oct 2019
In the raw urban jungle
the wounded, the mendings and the 'soon be's' stumble along
hiding scars and bandages soaked in blood
dropping pills and drugs away from prying skies
a million lovers walk and smile but only two are real and sincere
that friend that had your back just told another you are pain in the ***
but its okay cause truth be told you know its all about convenience, that's all
a baby cries, a mother curses wildly but to the girls at work
she has the most beautiful bundle of joy
outside the Fertility Clinic a woman cries bitter tears
sorry, they said, but you can never conceive a child
in the stripe joints fat balding middle aged men with fat wallets
have young nubile beauties perched on knees
magnetic attractions, *** appeals in bucket loads
not
fat wallets
yes!
A future doctor and eminent scientist sits under a lampshade studying
from downstairs, a college mate is making jokes about that geek
upstairs, who's still a ****** and never drinks
an elderly couple leave the Prayer meeting, next stop is the Swingers Club down town
where a Reverend Father will be in latex whipping a nurse in a basque
Round the city in a posh Lav, a famous politician fresh from a TV
interview, in now lining up three lines of high grade coke
Hassan at the chippie doles out the hot wraps, no one knows about the forty grand saved under the bed, not even the Tax man
a mum is snoring in bed dreaming about that black builder she saw
dad is playing 'Call of Duty' if only he's done his duty upstairs
in a locked garage Eddie has turned the ignition on, the pipe in place
they will find him in the morning, with a letter and pictures of his three kids that his wife took when she left
four miles away, his wife is under Stan, Stan is a big boy
an attractive woman is with friends drinking and partying
none knows she has a serious illness and could collapse and die
A love song rings out in the night
the moon shines bright
a poet writes
its all about flowers and petals and rainbows and Princes and queens
poets are supposed to reflect real feelings and real
life as they see it
but this poet is a blinded idiot
the poet knows nothing about LIFE.....
calm Feb 2018
KC
her name
it always came back to her beautiful ******* name
want to know how to make me truly happy for a moment?
say her name.
then watch as the hope from my face drops as quickly as it came
as I turn away blinking back petty tears
then cease to even look at you for the rest of the day
and barely engage in conversation for the rest of the week
not to mention the multiple bandages that appear along my arms and legs and stomach

her smile
I never saw it
after all we never sent each other pictures
just two kids talking across the world from each other
one trying to save the other
not knowing yet why anyone would dare cut their skin on purpose:
me
the one resisting to be saved:
her
trying not to put all her problems on me
knowing I was stupid enough to believe an 'I'm fine.'
sometimes smiling however at my lame jokes
and as I began to say
I never saw it
but I felt it
I felt it coming all the way from wherever she lived
it could have been down the road for all I know, we don't talk to our neighbours much
but even if she was living in Australia
I felt her smile

her voice
I never heard it
but I knew what it sounded like
deep
but smooth like honey
comforting and sweet
the best sound in the world
the only reason I could fall asleep at night

her gay posts on G+
the place we met
the place where I learned
she was gay as heck
the place I learned
I was bi as heck
the place she gave me a nickname
It had been a nice thing to do when you were young,
sending kiss emojis to your friends.
She took this as a romantic gesture
yet knew that when I did it, it was for fun.
She called me 'Frenchy'.
as in french kissing
except we said it was short for something else
'French fries', the American way of saying 'chips'
I found it fun
I called her 'Lavender'
Because I love the smell of it
I love the name
it helps me fall asleep still
plus
I could call her 'Lav' for short
which sounds like 'Love' if you think about it

I didn't mean it in any way like that though
Not at the time.

There were many things she said to me
that I will keep forever
locked away in the deep dungeons of my heart
never to be exposed
for fear someone might know too much
no friends for me, thank you. no one could be like KC.

However there is one thing I would like to share.
I posted a picture because I liked it's background.
It's quote meant nothing to me
at the time
It said

'I just want someone to hold me and tell me I'm not as worthless as I think I am.'

Only one comment.
From KC.
From Lavender.
She said

"You're not worthless Frenchy, you're priceless."

I,
being the way I was at the time,
replied with a
"Thanks Lavender, you too
Most personal thing I ever wrote. Decided to post because a few days ago I saw her post again and fell even more in love than ever before and wrote a new piece about her that I'll post later.
RandleFunk Oct 2022
Blinding stardust pours through your hair
Butterflies dance through warm lav’nder air
Spinning, cool grass tickles my feet
Furtive green pools of thine eyes meet
Soft cinnamon lips taste so sweet
Gamut soars, my heart skips a beat
one project is comimg along nicely down the garden

ripping the ivy off the pigsty hair ******* from the dirt

eyeing the next task, preparing the mind on
one step at a time

so far we have come

me with that and the outside lav
her with a scullery
very retro chic yet
maybe is just that we have old houses

history

i diary tasks then let them stew so
ideas come for the doing

they call it logistics i think that sounds like maths

you possibly say math all singular james

the news came yesterday and she saw it live
while i was working

it hit me at two thirty that we get more freedom
to excercise from monday, more than once a
day

it hit me

thought i had been fine with it all
then the delight hit me hard………..

real hard james
so have diaried
that for monday
two walks

that diary
if you could see it
lists and tasks

numbers and notes

thoughts of the future
how things may change

may have to change james

twig ladder

 

notes:-

 

( he is a famous scuptor
lives in blaenau
i visited
eyed the ladders he made

how much are they?

how much !!

years later, years i tell thee

i plan to make one
myself )
(mid april 2020)

.day 34.

on looking at todays work
i see the spots are appearing
when sprayed
with cosmetic fixative
glow pink

yesterday i picked ivy from the wall
of the outbuilding. i do a little each
day
so my fingers
dont bleed

this is satisfactory
pleases me and

moves the work into a new area
the doors are painted badly now
in tune with music
from the films in
tune with the times

yes money gets tight here
so some shops & charities
give food
and other sundries

today i plan to walk ,to clean
the outside lav and maybe
you will have to google that
as i had to google your noodles

james

the drawings have come stiff again
with all this time we have at home
so i need to move them into a place
of loose adjustment
of random offerings
and sketchy lines
james

with face masks
james

i think it is thursday
when
my food delivery arrives
asda

— The End —