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"lurve" poems
ROBBED BY TIME Once upon a time, A friend in need at all times, Time was such my best friend And so we hopped till the end. To my castle he'd come, For he was always welcome Any time he ever wanted to, Something my queen loved too. We'd ramble woodland paths together As he reeled off one story after another, All day long having a good time Till when castle bells could chime. Time was not of this world, But a great war lord Of a very far away land, King unto the realm of fairy land. He who had a novelty crown Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown, A crown not of gold but of palest silver, A precious gem from the fairyland silva. With lurve in the air one morning, My friendship with Time died aborning When he chose to do something frivolous Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious. Time emblazed my heart, Something that didst hurt When he smiled unto my wife, Such a great shock unto my life. He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh, Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high. He thus gallantly asked her for a dance, And was granted a golden chance. Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy, Thought him skint but feared not nor coy. With alacrity and in broad day light Together they cwtched in delight. He whom I always enjoyed with the wine, There enjoying with a queen of mine Whilst committing mischief; This friend of mine such a thief. Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear, Whispers I could hardly hear: Alas! He promised her the moon For they'd eloped by noon, To places strange I might never have a clue, To where mortals have never dared walk to, All the way to the realm of fairy land, Such, such a very far away land. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros 10th Aug 2016.
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
ROBBED BY TIME
ROBBED BY TIME Once upon a time, A friend in need at all times, Time was such my best friend And so we hopped till the end. To my castle he'd come, For he was always welcome Any time he ever wanted to, Something my queen loved too. We'd ramble woodland paths together As he reeled off one story after another, All day long having a good time Till when castle bells could chime. Time was not of this world, But a great war lord Of a very far away land, King unto the realm of fairy land. He who had a novelty crown Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown, A crown not of gold but of palest silver, A precious gem from the fairyland silva. With lurve in the air one morning, My friendship with Time died aborning When he chose to do something frivolous Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious. Time emblazed my heart, Something that didst hurt When he smiled unto my wife, Such a great shock unto my life. He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh, Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high. He thus gallantly asked her for a dance, And was granted a golden chance. Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy, Thought him skint but feared not nor coy. With alacrity and in broad day light Together they cwtched in delight. He whom I always enjoyed with the wine, There enjoying with a queen of mine Whilst committing mischief; This friend of mine such a thief. Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear, Whispers I could hardly hear: Alas! He promised her the moon For they'd eloped by noon, To places strange I might never have a clue, To where mortals have never dared walk to, All the way to the realm of fairy land, Such, such a very far away land. ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros 10th Aug 2016.
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51
*yonder wave wants to come on in can't make it go away try so hard to chase away steel reserve* 1. don't come cryin' on yo broken shins who dat talkin' ova der? yo muvva just ain't home rite now take ya scraggy bags and vamoose outta here pick up dem rings 'round yo trappin' eyes       and lasso 'em round dat red fin tackle yo chapped lips       afore dem ships fall in yo calyx-cracks quit dat naggin' bitch-mouth       here, have dis apple, ma piggie and dems eyes o' yours dat shine so brite        might as well switch off dat lite hide dem leather-hands dat look like dry branches       wat, even da desert don't win dis contest pack dat stupid head in a box       der ain't nuttin' inside a see-through noggin hide dem silly hopes under a hevvy sea       or bury it under da soles of yo crazi hart take yo blasted treadin' to some udder place       some dark mine where dey can use yo help and all dem purty words on pages yo just lurve a-spewin'       ain't no party here for fools no more 2. den, der some funny rhydm 'gainst ma door pushin' dat big wave pushin' dat big wave I'm a-pushing back jest as hard but dat wrestlin' wave jest a-growin' keeps a-knockin' always rockin' gonna come crashin' rite in *ain't no good wishing, ma beloved darlin' so many fine dreams running silent in dem luvverly veins under yo kick-startin' tongue* yah, yonder waves gonna make a breakthrough some day... (mebbe) S T, 21 augury 2013
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Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
yonder wave
*yonder wave wants to come on in can't make it go away try so hard to chase away steel reserve* 1. don't come cryin' on yo broken shins who dat talkin' ova der? yo muvva just ain't home rite now take ya scraggy bags and vamoose outta here pick up dem rings 'round yo trappin' eyes       and lasso 'em round dat red fin tackle yo chapped lips       afore dem ships fall in yo calyx-cracks quit dat naggin' bitch-mouth       here, have dis apple, ma piggie and dems eyes o' yours dat shine so brite        might as well switch off dat lite hide dem leather-hands dat look like dry branches       wat, even da desert don't win dis contest pack dat stupid head in a box       der ain't nuttin' inside a see-through noggin hide dem silly hopes under a hevvy sea       or bury it under da soles of yo crazi hart take yo blasted treadin' to some udder place       some dark mine where dey can use yo help and all dem purty words on pages yo just lurve a-spewin'       ain't no party here for fools no more 2. den, der some funny rhydm 'gainst ma door pushin' dat big wave pushin' dat big wave I'm a-pushing back jest as hard but dat wrestlin' wave jest a-growin' keeps a-knockin' always rockin' gonna come crashin' rite in *ain't no good wishing, ma beloved darlin' so many fine dreams running silent in dem luvverly veins under yo kick-startin' tongue* yah, yonder waves gonna make a breakthrough some day... (mebbe) S T, 21 augury 2013
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45
Farewell, farewell  my father, Farewell, farewell my only joy That none canst ever destroy, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Spread thy wings like a dove Past effulgent yonder stars above, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Fly past cruel hands of time, Fly unto a rose-scented clime, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Fly through the endless night, Fly unto a realm of eternal light, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Fly unto a realm of fairest gold Where beauty you’ll only behold, Farewell, farewell my father Farewell, farewell my father, Fly unto where gentle winds blow, Fly unto where stars eternally glow, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Fly unto lands of silvery fountains, Lands of golden-capped mountains, Farewell, farewell my father. Farewell, farewell my father, Fly unto lands of opalescent skies That forever dost shine in paradise, Farewell, farewell my father. But though art thou gone my father, Wherever I’ll wander like a river, Thy lurve as dawn dew fresh forever, Farewell, farewell oh my father. Kikodinho Edward Alexandros. Jumeirah, Dubai. 10th.11.2017
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Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 2:40 PM UTC
FAREWELL MY FATHER
I miss you, I want to see you. But not because it’s “couple season” – not because it’s cold and gloomy and city lights explode with hands conjoined. You are worth more than the missed holidays, more than the occasions spent without us being in the company of one another: Hallowe'en, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, probably your birthday, too, as well as Valentine’s, and our anniversary. On these specially marked days, I feel a certain emptiness as you, my beloved other half, is not present with me, yet that which is not emptiness, for you still fill my heart plenty. In these times, I feel envy as lovers are so obviously visible everywhere, yet that which is not envy, for they are not you. I may suffer from your absence but I don’t suffer from jealousy. See, I love you, this one man who cannot compare to the likes of any other, this one man who strangely loves me back, this one man who’s mine and to whom I’m his. You are so very special to me and you mean a lot to me. I love you, I lurve you, I lava you, ILY (code), I <3 U (symbols), je t'aime, saranghae (Korean) – I want to say it a gazillion times and it wouldn’t be enough, and yet I don’t want to say it because it’s only an ensemble of words, an expression that is just too common, overused, cliché and weak, whose (level of) meaning doesn’t remain constant. Perhaps I could keep coining new ones, but then again I don’t want to be simply, mindlessly uttering or writing them like so, as if out of habit. I want this so-called “love” to be conveyed in such a way that – a tap on the shoulder, a  homemade dinner and handcrafted gifts, a random drive, a silent gaze, a goodbye hug and a goodnight kiss, my sleep-mumbling in your ear and your snoring on my nape, and the sharing of clothes – would melt our heart and let us fall a little deeper, therein meaning exponentially more than a mere, verbal, three-worded clause, “I love you.” That’s the kind of love I want us to be… partaking in. Today, eight months later, (although I am still thirteen hours ahead, still 8,070 miles East, and still not in your arms…) at the last stroke of the small hand, we both wave and bid farewell to 2015 and welcome and gaze at 2016. I’m thankful that love found us, I’m glad that we followed, and I’m happy that our relationship remains in the present. May the new year be full of goodness!
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
#7. Thoughts In The Wake of 2016, 12/31/15.
I miss you, I want to see you. But not because it’s “couple season” – not because it’s cold and gloomy and city lights explode with hands conjoined. You are worth more than the missed holidays, more than the occasions spent without us being in the company of one another: Hallowe'en, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, probably your birthday, too, as well as Valentine’s, and our anniversary. On these specially marked days, I feel a certain emptiness as you, my beloved other half, is not present with me, yet that which is not emptiness, for you still fill my heart plenty. In these times, I feel envy as lovers are so obviously visible everywhere, yet that which is not envy, for they are not you. I may suffer from your absence but I don’t suffer from jealousy. See, I love you, this one man who cannot compare to the likes of any other, this one man who strangely loves me back, this one man who’s mine and to whom I’m his. You are so very special to me and you mean a lot to me. I love you, I lurve you, I lava you, ILY (code), I <3 U (symbols), je t'aime, saranghae (Korean) – I want to say it a gazillion times and it wouldn’t be enough, and yet I don’t want to say it because it’s only an ensemble of words, an expression that is just too common, overused, cliché and weak, whose (level of) meaning doesn’t remain constant. Perhaps I could keep coining new ones, but then again I don’t want to be simply, mindlessly uttering or writing them like so, as if out of habit. I want this so-called “love” to be conveyed in such a way that – a tap on the shoulder, a  homemade dinner and handcrafted gifts, a random drive, a silent gaze, a goodbye hug and a goodnight kiss, my sleep-mumbling in your ear and your snoring on my nape, and the sharing of clothes – would melt our heart and let us fall a little deeper, therein meaning exponentially more than a mere, verbal, three-worded clause, “I love you.” That’s the kind of love I want us to be… partaking in. Today, eight months later, (although I am still thirteen hours ahead, still 8,070 miles East, and still not in your arms…) at the last stroke of the small hand, we both wave and bid farewell to 2015 and welcome and gaze at 2016. I’m thankful that love found us, I’m glad that we followed, and I’m happy that our relationship remains in the present. May the new year be full of goodness!
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Refrain: He your pappy, but he dead now Won't mess with yer head no more No more. Cos he dead now, he dead now He dead now. 1. Looking in this window. See 'em all warm inside. Cold wind, him bitin' at my ankles. Just look at 'em inside, all warm and cosy. CHORUS: Maybe gotta look inside Won't get nothing on the outside Yeah, gotta look inside For a little bit o' lurve! Never gonna turn your back on life. Gotta take this shot of live Gotta warm me up inside 'Fore the cold comes to claim me. Gotta close all lonely spaces With a little bit of love So, I's gotta take a look inside. 2. Don't mean to feel so mean. Just wanna feel part of something (So) strange, with all 'em polar caps a-meltin', We still don't have enough love! 3. Looky here, now traipsin' down this ***** street Seeking all along the edge of night Huntin' warmth, hikin' smiles, hawkin' love and sellin' souls What the hell are we doin' here? 4. No, you don't always feel it But there's a stink wind blowing out there Suckin' at my poor soul, stealin' all my warmth Yeah, (s)uckin' up my poor soul, takin' all our love! Repeat refrain. S T, 23 April 2013
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 5:38 AM UTC
Look Inside
Lively,long love-loving life, Turns a dreaded dull daydream. Strenght of the strong string of love life Vanishes and vignette vile vipers. The snippy stud snaps and snarks After his smooching snare you slipped Lurve life turns longeurs. Bleak ,black and blinding strife Leaps in and heaps havoc, You hassock and hassle But bed-burning coal you heaped. And the time has come For payment to be made. A nugatory,now you are, You will die the the death of the naughty.
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Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
PROMISCUITY
How pleasant to know Mr. Kiko Whose nose is remarkably big— Whose soul blazoned with a poetry freckle— Whose black hair resembles a wig— He who cometh from Uganda— He who most of his poetry all to his lass— Though some say, "such, such propaganda"— But to Him as pure as green of grass. How pleasant to know Mr. Kiko Who sleepeth late in the dead of night Gazing about ancient star's glow That ever beam long and bright— Bright—but not as his lass's limpid eyes Bestowed never upon seraphim above— Though some say—"such, such lies Of a swain drownded in a pool of lurve." ©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros Jumeirah, Dubai. 13th.Feb.2018.
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
How Pleasant To Know Mr. Kiko
You were standing there by the fire, illuminated by it's tendrils of warmth. Standing isn't a good word, though. I saw you radiating upright with your spine stretched up to the heavens like a sacred snake dancing to the universe's melody. Your every movement flowed like a river of love and glowed with the embers of a thousand thoughts. Our eyes met and I knew I had known you for several lifetimes. The pupils of our souls dilated to the horizons of our irises as they tried to jump into each other's embrace. It's silly, but as we sat, I noticed our super-soft pants, (because why go with anything that doesn't feel amazing) were printed with psychedelic patterns, and they seemed to breathe in sync with one another. But that was just us.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Drum Circle Lurve