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AAron Roz May 2018
Music is loud or quiet.
Music is soft or heavy.
Music can have meaning or not.
Music can be nothing or everything.
Music is:
◾Art Punk
◾Alternative Rock
◾College Rock
◾Crossover Thrash (thx Kevin G)
◾Crust Punk (thx Haug)
◾Experimental Rock
◾Folk Punk
◾Goth / Gothic Rock
◾Grunge
◾******* Punk
◾Hard Rock
◾Indie Rock
◾Lo-fi (hat tip to Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾New Wave
◾Progressive Rock
◾Punk
◾Shoegaze (with thx to Jackie Herrera)
◾Steampunk (with thx to Christopher Schaeffer)

•Anime
•Blues ◾Acoustic Blues
◾Chicago Blues
◾Classic Blues
◾Contemporary Blues
◾Country Blues
◾Delta Blues
◾Electric Blues
◾Ragtime Blues (cheers GFS)

•Children’s Music ◾Lullabies
◾Sing-Along
◾Stories

•Classical ◾Avant-Garde
◾Baroque
◾Chamber Music
◾Chant
◾Choral
◾Classical Crossover
◾Contemporary Classical (thx Julien Palliere)
◾Early Music
◾Expressionist (thx Mr. Palliere)
◾High Classical
◾Impressionist
◾Medieval
◾Minimalism
◾Modern Composition
◾Opera
◾Orchestral
◾Renaissance
◾Romantic (early period)
◾Romantic (later period)
◾Wedding Music

•Comedy ◾Novelty
◾Standup Comedy
◾Vaudeville (cheers Ben Vee Bedlamite)

•Commercial (thank you Sheldon Reynolds) ◾Jingles
◾TV Themes

•Country ◾Alternative Country
◾Americana
◾Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Bluegrass
◾Contemporary Country
◾Country Gospel
◾Country Pop (thanks Sarah Johnson)
◾***** Tonk
◾Outlaw Country
◾Traditional Bluegrass
◾Traditional Country
◾Urban Cowboy

•Dance (EDM – Electronic Dance Music – see Electronic below – with thx to Eric Shaffer-Whiting & Drew :-)) ◾Club / Club Dance (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Breakcore
◾Breakbeat / Breakstep
◾Brostep (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Chillstep (thx Matt)
◾Deep House (cheers Venus Pang)
◾Dubstep
◾Electro House (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electroswing
◾Exercise
◾Future Garage (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Garage
◾Glitch Hop (cheers Tom Berckley)
◾Glitch Pop (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Grime (thx Ran’dom Haug / Matthew H)
◾*******
◾Hard Dance
◾Hi-NRG / Eurodance
◾Horrorcore (thx Matt)
◾House
◾Jackin House (with thx to Jermaine Benjamin Dale Bruce)
◾Jungle / Drum’n’bass
◾Liquid Dub(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Regstep (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Speedcore (cheers Matt)
◾Techno
◾Trance
◾Trap (thx Luke Allfree)

•Disney
•Easy Listening ◾Bop
◾Lounge
◾Swing

•Electronic ◾2-Step (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾8bit – aka 8-bit, Bitpop and Chiptune – (thx Marcel Borchert)
◾Ambient
◾Bassline (thx Leon Oliver)
◾Chillwave(thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Chiptune (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾Crunk (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Downtempo
◾Drum & Bass (thx Luke Allfree)
◾Electro
◾Electro-swing (thank you Daniel Forthofer)
◾Electronica
◾Electronic Rock
◾Hardstyle (kudos to Dominik Landahl)
◾IDM/Experimental
◾Industrial
◾Trip Hop (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya)

•Enka
•French Pop
•German Folk
•German Pop
•Fitness & Workout
•Hip-Hop/Rap ◾Alternative Rap
◾Bounce
◾***** South
◾East Coast Rap
◾Gangsta Rap
◾******* Rap
◾Hip-Hop
◾Latin Rap
◾Old School Rap
◾Rap
◾Turntablism (thank you Luke Allfree)
◾Underground Rap
◾West Coast Rap

•Holiday ◾Chanukah
◾Christmas
◾Christmas: Children’s
◾Christmas: Classic
◾Christmas: Classical
◾Christmas: Comedy
◾Christmas: Jazz
◾Christmas: Modern
◾Christmas: Pop
◾Christmas: R&B
◾Christmas: Religious
◾Christmas: Rock
◾Easter
◾Halloween
◾Holiday: Other
◾Thanksgiving

•Indie Pop
•Industrial
•Inspirational – Christian & Gospel ◾CCM
◾Christian Metal
◾Christian Pop
◾Christian Rap
◾Christian Rock
◾Classic Christian
◾Contemporary Gospel
◾Gospel
◾Christian & Gospel
◾Praise & Worship
◾Qawwali (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Southern Gospel
◾Traditional Gospel

•Instrumental ◾March (Marching Band)

•J-Pop ◾J-Rock
◾J-Synth
◾J-Ska
◾J-Punk

•Jazz ◾Acid Jazz (with thx to Hunter Nelson)
◾Avant-Garde Jazz
◾Bebop (thx Mwinogo1)
◾Big Band
◾Blue Note (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Contemporary Jazz
◾Cool
◾Crossover Jazz
◾Dixieland
◾Ethio-jazz (with thx to Jillian Edwards)
◾Fusion
◾Gypsy Jazz (kudos to Mike Tait Tafoya)
◾Hard Bop
◾Latin Jazz
◾Mainstream Jazz
◾Ragtime
◾Smooth Jazz
◾Trad Jazz

•K-Pop
•Karaoke
•Kayokyoku
•Latin ◾Alternativo & Rock Latino
◾Argentine tango (gracias P. Moth & Sandra Sanders)
◾Baladas y Boleros
◾Bossa Nova (with thx to Marcos José Sant’Anna Magalhães & Alex Ede for the reclassification)
◾Brazilian
◾Contemporary Latin
◾Cumbia (gracias Richard Kemp)
◾Flamenco / Spanish Flamenco (thank you Michael Tait Tafoya & Sandra Sanders)
◾Latin Jazz
◾Nuevo Flamenco (and again Michael Tafoya)
◾Pop Latino
◾Portuguese fado (and again Sandra Sanders)
◾Raíces
◾Reggaeton y Hip-Hop
◾Regional Mexicano
◾Salsa y Tropical

•New Age ◾Environmental
◾Healing
◾Meditation
◾Nature
◾Relaxation
◾Travel

­•Opera
•Pop ◾Adult Contemporary
◾Britpop
◾Bubblegum Pop (thx Haug & John Maher)
◾Chamber Pop (thx Haug)
◾Dance Pop
◾Dream Pop (thx Haug)
◾Electro Pop (thx Haug)
◾Orchestral Pop (thx Haug)
◾Pop/Rock
◾Pop Punk (thx Makenzie)
◾Power Pop (thx Haug)
◾Soft Rock
◾Synthpop (thx Haug)
◾Teen Pop

•R&B/Soul ◾Contemporary R&B
◾Disco (not a top level genre Sheldon Reynolds!)
◾Doo ***
◾Funk
◾Modern Soul (Cheers Nik)
◾Motown
◾Neo-Soul
◾Northern Soul (Cheers Nik & John Maher)
◾Psychedelic Soul (thank you John Maher)
◾Quiet Storm
◾Soul
◾Soul Blues (Cheers Nik)
◾Southern Soul (Cheers Nik)

•Reggae ◾2-Tone (thx GFS)
◾Dancehall
◾Dub
◾Roots Reggae
◾Ska

•Rock ◾Acid Rock (with thanks to Alex Antonio)
◾Adult-Oriented Rock (thanks to John Maher)
◾Afro Punk
◾Adult Alternative
◾Alternative Rock (thx Caleb Browning)
◾American Trad Rock
◾Anatolian Rock
◾Arena Rock
◾Art Rock
◾Blues-Rock
◾British Invasion
◾**** Rock
◾Death Metal / Black Metal
◾Doom Metal (thx Kevin G)
◾Glam Rock
◾Gothic Metal (fits here Sam DeRenzis – thx)
◾Grind Core
◾Hair Metal
◾Hard Rock
◾Math Metal (cheers Kevin)
◾Math Rock (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Metal
◾Metal Core (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Noise Rock (genre – Japanoise – thx Dominik Landahl)
◾Jam Bands
◾Post Punk (thx Ben Vee Bedlamite)
◾Prog-Rock/Art Rock
◾Progressive Metal (thx Ran’dom Haug)
◾Psychedelic
◾Rock & Roll
◾Rockabilly (it’s here Mark Murdock!)
◾Roots Rock
◾Singer/Songwriter
◾Southern Rock
◾Spazzcore (thx Haug)
◾Stoner Metal (duuuude)
◾Surf
◾Technical Death Metal (cheers Pierre)
◾Tex-Mex
◾Time Lord Rock (Trock) ~ (thanks to ‘Melia G)
◾Trash Metal (thanks to Pierre A)

•Singer/Songwriter ◾Alternative Folk
◾Contemporary Folk
◾Contemporary Singer/Songwriter
◾Indie Folk (with thanks to Andrew Barrett)
◾Folk-Rock
◾Love Song (Chanson – merci Marcel Borchert)
◾New Acoustic
◾Traditional Folk

•Soundtrack ◾Foreign Cinema
◾Movie Soundtrack (thanks Julien)
◾Musicals
◾Original Score
◾Soundtrack
◾TV Soundtrack

•Spoken Word
•Tex-Mex / Tejano (with thx to Israel Lopez) ◾Chicano
◾Classic
◾Conjunto
◾Conjunto Progressive
◾New Mex
◾Tex-Mex

•Vocal ◾A cappella (with kudos to Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Barbershop (with thx to Kelly Chism)
◾Doo-*** (with thx to Bradley Thompson)
◾Gregorian Chant (hat tip to Deborah Knight-Nikifortchuk)
◾Standards
◾Traditional Pop
◾Vocal Jazz
◾Vocal Pop

•World ◾Africa
◾Afro-Beat
◾Afro-Pop
◾Asia
◾Australia
◾Cajun
◾Calypso (thx Gerald John)
◾Caribbean
◾Carnatic (Karnataka Sanghetha – thx Abhijith)
◾Celtic
◾Celtic Folk
◾Contemporary Celtic
◾Coupé-décalé (thx Samy) – Congo
◾Dangdut (thank you Achmad Ivanny)
◾Drinking Songs
◾Drone (with thx to Robert Conrod)
◾Europe
◾France
◾Hawaii
◾Hindustani (thank you Abhijith)
◾Indian Ghazal (thank you Gitika Thakur)
◾Indian Pop
◾Japan
◾Japanese Pop
◾Klezmer
◾Mbalax (thank you Samy) – Senegal
◾Middle East
◾North America
◾Ode (thank you Sheldon Reynolds)
◾Piphat (cheers Samy B) – Thailand
◾Polka
◾Soca (thx Gerald John)
◾South Africa
◾South America
◾Traditional Celtic
◾Worldbeat
◾Zydeco
etc...
Najwa Kareem Aug 2017
Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia                      

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

Brothers and Sisters in the Old Town speaking the words Salamu Alaikum

Sisters wearing veils with colors like in the bright rainbow appearing before me and my two new friends from Bosnia in a sky above a bussling bazaar, there a smaller group of humans watching and a larger group of tourists capturing a rare moment in Sarajevo on photo

Many brothers wearing kufis and many brothers with trendy hair styles paired with Western outfits gathering in the courtyard of Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque, the largest in Bosnia and sixteen centuries old. Tourists from Africa, America, Europe, and other landscapes and many locals exchanging words and gestures in a month better than a thousand

Families spending time together at the Grand Mosque and at smaller mosques and in other places surrounded by picturesque hills and green plush trees

A father, a mother, their toddler son...he practicing walking on a masjid's cobblestone, and their young daughter...she smiling at her father as he walks by. Each family member physically at a distance from each other. Each family member at a cell's distance in communion with each other.

In the mid afternoon on a Ramadan's day, a sister from Munich and I having met for the first time at Bey Mosque ride together in a taxi up a steep hill to see a guest house she knows

A smell of lingering cigarette smoke permeating the air within the house so thick beckons me to leave politely and quickly. Unaware of the smell's degree, the owner learns of its' offensiveness as I disclose my sensitivity to & the dislike of the smell of cigarette smoke, both acutely heightened while fasting

Careful steps back down the steep hill to the city center, me avoiding stumbling on a large rock or being runover by a speeding automobile, interestingly instead I stumble upon a beautiful grave yard of uniquely shaped white gravestones and a charming mosque with a high minaret

At the bottom of the hill sits a crafts and artistry shop, one of many in Sarajevo's Old Town. Upon entering and a brief conversation with the owner, a piece of generosity is handed to me, a square shape piece of wood with Ayat tul Kursi in hand calligraphy

During the late afternoon hours, a time for reading Quran by many at mosques in the city. Sisters and brothers sitting on carpeted floors, some with backs supported by mosque walls, some with bodies sitting in chairs, fasters occupied with the most perfected Divine Scripture

A brief leisurely stroll with my two new friends Dzenita and her sister Amina through part of the Bazaar, they sharing opinions of their favorite restaurants, best eating experiences, and other things

In the early evening, a time to buy food to prepare for the Iftar meal. Showing me how it's done in Sarajevo, Dzenita and Amina invite me to join them on an excursion up a hill to buy Somun, a Bosnian flatbread topped with black seeds from the city's famous bread maker. Standing in a line longer than Georgetown Cupcake, Dzenita surprises me with a gift of Somun for myself

Two dates, one cube of Bosnian delight, and one cup of water to break our fast with at the Bey Mosque. A canon bomb sounds off to announce the time for Magrib prayer and Iftar, customary in Sarajevo during Ramadan

Startled and alerted by the bomb's depth and volume, I stand up to join the congregation for communion with God, The God Most Gracious, Most High

Out of nowhere I'm invited to Iftar at a shop nearby the Grand Mosque, about 8 of us guests being served by the warm owner, she offering a meal for Iftar at her shop every night during Ramadan, a big-hearted tradition of hers

Cevapi, Cevapi, Cevapi...I'll say it once more, Cevapi -- sold in Bosnian restaurants, cafes, bazaars, and made in many homes, eaten happily by many fasters at Iftar. Served with freshly chopped onions, some served with a soft white cheese, some with a red peppery sauce, many served with Somun, all ways tried by me and tasting as scrumptious as my first experience with Cevapi in Germany, then falling in love with it

Cold winds at night from the surrounding mountains, a refreshing air yet taking my breath and power away from the chill of it, completely disappearing with my start of Isha prayer with other Muslims and the declaration "Allah hu Akbar"

9 Muftis with impeccable Tajweed each taking turns to recite the words of our Grand Lord before sunrise, me weeping from God's messages, the reality of His greatness, my servitude to Him, and a recognition of sounds similar to that of my Mumin Father's, those familiar to me since birth

Three dear sisters, university students from Turkey and I journey together on foot after Fajr from the Old Mosque to a street train, along the way stopping by a community center, our destination - their home an hour or so away to rest, the four of us coming to know each other and each others' thoughts with every step. Contempleting my desire to spend more time in the city over sleep, the three sisters showing great generosity and I embrace and exchange Salams at a stop near the main station, the three walking with me to an open place before continuing on

In the land of a marriage between the East and the West and where newspaper is used to clean a cafe window, on the list of to-dos -- shopping for gifts for family and for souvenirs, window shopping done along the way, asking myself Shall I buy a Dzezva, a hand-made Bosnian coffee set, or a vintage wood Sarajevo box, or a woven wallet, or Bosnian sweets.

In a bazaar walkway, Maher Zain's song "Ramadan" playing loudly. At another moment, lyrics about a month of devotion and sacrifice from Sami Yusuf echoeing. Shop owners in Old Town with dispositions of calm and quiet grace greeting me and others cordially and respectfully. Shopping a few hours more until near sunset for post cards with a real version of the Grand Mosque, finding only less than satisfactory versions. Time running out for shopping, another reason now to return to Bosnia, God-Willing

Magrib prayer a second night at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque. Observing the crowd, a striking occurrence taking place, a teenage boy walking a small length behind a man on to the mosque carpet. There the boy approaches an older man giving him a respectful hand shake. After prayer, a native of Sarajevo shares with me in wholesome conversation, "You are known in the town not by what you have. You are known by how well you behave."

Another invitation, this time for a cup of a tea at a cafe. Overflowing with people mostly young adults, men and women sitting at tightly packed small tables inside and a few outside, conversations merging into each other with a loud volume flowing throughout, Shisha being smoked by some, cigarettes by some, smoke in the air and the temperature inside melting away heavy make-up on sisters' faces. "This is Ramadan in Sarajevo." Madia says. "One aspect of it." says I. Not having a good feeling right away when walking in and not wanting to stay, the two of us leave quickly.

My two new friends Dzenita and Amina aka angels of hospitality and kindness reciprocating my gift to them of Milka chocolate give me a gift before departing the next day. "Tespih!!" A burnt red and yellow colored set with sparkingly gold thinly cut wrapping paper looking stripes purchased at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque gift shop. Not knowing then I collect Tesbih, their gift is now my most favorite of my Tesbih collection

Husbands and wives, men and women both young and old, well-groomed and well-dressed, some holding hands as they stroll through narrow pathways in the Old Town on a Ramadan's night. Families talking and eating at restaurants, friends in groups sharing laughs, so much to see, so much to experience. At a cafe where baked goods, ice cream, and other sweets are sold, a lady sitting with a group of others initiates speaking to me, stopping me in my tracks. Bidding me farewell, she extends me a gracious compliment

Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia to Remember

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

by Najwa Kareem
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.i'll cook myself some food, wipe my *** with toilet paper, equate that to writing something the waiting blank of pixel online... refrain from leaving comments... and call it a night... ****...i'll even think about cooking tomorrow's dinner, Bolognese pasta... the internet used to be so much fun, roughly 2 years ago... **** it, forget it... it's not coming back... the party is dead... hello sunshine! hello new t.v.! as was originally intended: internet shopping... and internet banking... the ******* retards doing here, imitating homeless people, begging via donations on Patreon?! you wanna know this side of the "coin-flip"? get these bums off the net... let the software companies enforce the hardware companies... who, or who doesn't get access to phone / internet access... better still: go down the route of envelope and postage stamp!

what the **** do i
"have" to stay up at night?
i have a choice between
family guy and bill maher...
us little obedient serfs...
i don't need to stay up
at night for this *******...
i have a cauliflower's worth
of acne building up on my ***
(right ****-cheek)...
i'm taking naproxen,
because the headache is getting
to me...
i need this new-internet like
i might require
******* hemorrhoids...
          thanks... i'll just start
treating this medium akin
to channels... whatever...
the ones were you do on-cable
gambling... and the striptease...
that isn't really a striptease...
                 like:
you want a scene...
where a guy lights some scented candles,
reclines
in an armchair...
and then jerks off
while watching...
sadomasochism **** from
2017?
yeah... that bad...
             i'm quiet liking
that cauliflower sized acne head
popping up from my ****-cheek...
giving me the suspense(d) impression
that i have three...
it's just about how
there was impromptu when
Rapunzel went to the hairdressers...
there's a beard in there,
right?

god... i can or rather... can't
in faking of attempting to
tell a good joke...
always ending up with a bad one...
but the serious point being...
i've lost the reason to stay up
during the night...
the internet died a slow death...
what? clips of bill maher and some
family guy?
   that's it?!
         i didn't fight the transition
period, all of "us" became
disheartened pejoratives...
      i didn't fight, because i already
knew that whatever fight was
to be engaged...
we were never fighting Nazis...
at least fighting Nazis would have been
something...
like... fighting on an equally
level headed playing field...
           the whole
punch a **** would have been fun...
but fighting this fight?!
this wasn't a fight...
this was war via procrastination...
you won... whoever "you" is...
i'm tired of fighting...
i used to spend the wee hours
the the night engaging myself
in the blank space before me...
writing...
          now?!
         i can't be bothered...
  whatever... it's yours...
take your soundbites and...
whatever you dare to claim
as not being copyright infringement...
your little Metallica soundtrack...
and *******!
                     i'm through...
i'll still post...
                    but let me tell you...
i'll certainly take more pleasure
from taking a ****,
than writing the subsequent *******!
enjoy the new t.v.
            sure as ****,
i know i won't... bye bye.
Anais Vionet Nov 2021
It’s Friday evening, (11-12-21) and Lisa’s Birthday. To celebrate, we’re going to see “A Night With Bill Maher” at the New York Comedy Festival (we’ll be socially distanced, in an opera box). He goes on at 8:30PM and my last class on Fridays ends at 05:25 (in New Haven CT). We had to hurry.

We have our bags and we’re hustling out the dorm gate loaded down like a couple of tourists. “We want to be on the island (NYC) by 7:30 for our dinner reservation.” Lisa said. I gave her a quizzical look, checking my watch, “It’s 6:18,” I said doubtfully, “we’ll NEVER..”  “Yeah, we will,” Lisa interrupts, “we’re taking a helicopter ride!” “Whaa.. REALLY??” I gasp. “Yeah,” Lisa grinned, “my dad arranged it, his treat.” “Thanks DAD,” I say, as we climb into our Uber.

An Uber off-loads us by a helicopter 15 minutes later (at Tweed Airport). I knew the blue and white grasshopper-looking whirligig didn’t have a mind - that it wasn’t capable of feelings or eagerness, but the blades were spinning and it seemed eager to escape earth - like a bug afraid of birds.

After we boarded, a guy in a yellow vest and helmet said - above the noise - “Buckle up!” and pointed to our seat belts. The “seat belt” was a harness that made an “X” across our bodies. Once the doors were closed it became surprisingly quiet. The cabin could hold four but we were alone, facing forward, Lisa seated next to me.

The earnest-looking pilot turned to us and said, “37 air minutes to the 34th street heliport,” but before he could close the little plexiglass door to our compartment, Lisa said, “Afghan takeoff please!” He nodded and closed the window, it got quieter still.

The pilot throttled up, the jet engines whined, the rotors became frantic and we lifted up into the air - just a few feet. I held tightly to my seat sitting perfectly still, as though the helicopter were a frightened animal I didn’t want to startle. “Relax,” Lisa said, with a BIG grin, “You’re going to LOVE this.” The helo rotated 180 degrees, “Woah,” I said.

“Wait for it,” she giggled. The back of the chopper suddenly rose, my body pressed forward, hard, against the harness. I went bug-eyed - about the time I thought the whole shaky contraption would roll forward end-over-end and we’d die in a fireball, we sprang into the air like a rollercoaster ride. When we lurched skyward, I had to fight the urge to hurl but Lisa roared with laughter.

After a moment we leveled out. “That wasn’t funny.” I said, still trembling and deadly serious. I opened a bottle of water, took a big swig and I felt myself relax a bit. “I almost threw up!” I wiped my hair away from my face. “I’m sorry,” Lisa said in a pouty, baby appeasing way. I glowered.

“Seriously,” she said, in a more reasonable voice, “I HAD to do it - I COULDN’T resist.” Unbuckling her harness she scooted over by me and took my hand. “It was a little mean, I know. I SWEAR, I’ll never, ever, EVER, trick you again.” She said, adding a girl scout salute that morphed into a pinky promise and we were suddenly whole again.

“I mean, it only works ONCE - and your FACE! - GOD!, I should have videoed that,” she laughed again - I just rolled my eyes and turned to look out into the darkness.

Maybe it was that take-off, but at first, all I could think of was falling to a watery death. I never get nervous on commercial flights, they feel like solid, white noise filled living rooms but this chopper was small and trembling, like an economy car or a hayride.

There was a TV screen that showed our altitude (9,000 feet and climbing) and airspeed indicator (140 knots) - I had to remind myself that trustworthy physics was at work somewhere behind this clippity-cloppity contraption our lives depended on.

The view of Long Island Sound, just after dusk, WAS amazing and soon I began to enjoy it. I counted 30 ships and barges lit up like birthday cakes against the watery darkness - and the approaching lights of New York City looked like a glittering tiara being worn by the horizon.

Ok, I thought, I have to write about this.
a scary first ride for me
Sarah Maher Aug 2018
There’s got to be more to life
There has to be something beyond waking up every morning frustrated and angry
Angry at your husband for not cleaning up a drink that your child spilled and leaving it for you to clean up
There’s got to be more to life
More than just laundry, dishes, sweeping, and mopping
I dreamed of growing up to be a wife and a mom, yes but I was appreciated for it in my dreams
In reality, I’m never thanked
There’s got to be more to life
Or my gravestone will read,
“Here lies Sarah Maher. She hated her life.”
jeffrey robin Jun 2010
winding down into the silence of
pure bull-shittin decay

the world's words!
our community!

baby talk!
the bill maher show!
fox news!

(you and me?)
R Apr 2015
God
it had to be Him stopping me,
because what kind of coincidence would it be
that as I press down and wait for my blood to surface,
"Your Grace Is Enough" by Matt Maher starts to play?
And I thank him now more than ever.
It's been over a year now, I know I can keep going.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
ah... ha ha... **** never gets old...
i'll admit...
       liberal comedians
will forever outperform the libertarian
leaning right-wing commentators...
why?
  they have some nuanced knowledge
of boundaries...
fair enough... when the libertarian
commentators do their
   SJW accents...
    with pink-but-not-punk hairdos...
it's self-evident comedy...
it's not the sort of comedy
that involves thinking:
   well... that's reasonable,
if the highest form of reasonableness
is to enshrine free speech...
  sorry... that's just lazy...
if i'm going to make a **** joke,
i won't be making a joke,
but rather reciting, verbatim,
my grandfather's memory,
about the two SS-men dressed in black
manning an anti-aircraft outpost
in my home town...
   asking them...
  herr-bitte-bonbon!
the funny part is in the punctuation...
her never says it with a comma...
i.e. herr, bitte bonbon...
he still got the sweets...
         he added...
i ran back home, and put my glued
together hands under the tap...
yeah... all Nazis were inhuman zombies...
some gave sweets
to the children of the people
they were occupying...
but all bad, nonetheless...
still... i get edgy humor,
but sometimes it's just: enforced humor...
libertarian humor is sometimes
akin to canned laughter...
you're not supposed to laugh:
you're expected to laugh...
that's why liberal comedy is better,
in that it acknowledges
the constraints of comedy...
            it's authoritative humor...
and comedy needs as many
metaphorical comparisons
to psychological archetypes,
   as is required to dissect the constrained
number of ****** expressions...
i give the benefit of the doubt...
sure... sure thing...
say all the jokes you want...
but i sometimes abhor
the complexity of a Monty Python
and succumb to the simplistic genius
of Fawlty Towers...
    when i laugh:
i want an uncontrolled reaction...
giggles...
till the stomach aches...
   thinking about what i'm laughing
about, with an explanation to boot...
that's just bad...
      punchlines bad...
    i'm already more curious about
the madman who's, "apparently"
laughing at nothing in particular...
there's that...
        and there is the liberal humor...
with its constraints...
the orthodoxy of humor...
the orthodoxy of humor with its
canon of hubris...
  the proud look of: i know this is funny...
rather than this libertarian...
****, what's going look
of bewilderment...
          were we supposed to play
tennis with a squash ball,
and hit the squash ball with
a lacrosse stick?!
   and hit it so that it falls through
a basketball hoop?!
bill maher...
who the hell cares if he "thinks
he's smart... he's also *doubting
that
he is, in the classical Cartesian sense...
sometimes... i just find...
that i find it hard to compensate
the intelligence involvement
    in producing a joke...
                i like constraints,
archetypal comic constraints...
          not everything is funny... oddly enough...
and enforcing omnipresent laughter
is worse than canned laughter.
Najwa Kareem Nov 2020
Zain, a rain on a plane colored beautiful.

Zain, a big window pane with a shade mutable.

Zain painted beautiful.

Caring, he's multihuetiful.

A half a dash of cocoa.

A quarter dash of vanilla.

A quarter dash of pumpkin spice.

Zain, his Mom has said is nice.

He's moving on a fast train traveling down a bright, shining lane.

Maybe, once baby Zain will be the next Zain Bhikha or the next Maher Zain.

Helter Skelter, God sees these three as all playing together at the same Aqiqah.

Zain grown of sugar cane, black, white, and beige.

A trio equally plentiful.

Zain is The Multihuetiful.

By: Najwa Kareem
*written on 11/19/20, Zain's 5th Birthday!
☰☰☰☰☰☰✈ The U.S. govt. sacrificed 3,000 soldiers at Pearl Harbor in 1941 to the Empire of Japan; the U.S. govt. poisons and adulterates our water with the waste product sodium fluoride and the blood intoxicant known as lithium (as well as innumerable heavy metals and pesticides). The U.S. govt. clouds the skies with aluminum oxide and barium salt. I am able and willing to turn YOU over to Iraq's citizens for dispensation. ****** is ******. The murdering of children is especially abhorrent.

WEB: In the long run, routine deception by the police tears at our social fabric, and undermines the law enforcement system. The more police lie, the more skeptical juries are going to be, even when police are telling the truth.

“War is coming. 1941, they say...It's all going to happen. All the things you've got at the back of your mind, the things you're terrified of, the things that you tell yourself are just a nightmare or only happen in foreign countries. The bombs, the food-queues, the rubber truncheons, the barbed wire, the coloured shirts, the slogans, the enormous faces, the machine-guns squirting out of bedroom windows. It's all going to happen.” – George Orwell: Coming Up for Air p. 274

Dave Foreman, Earth First : “My three main goals would be to reduce human population to about 100 million worldwide, destroy the industrial infrastructure and see wilderness, with its full complement of species, returning throughout the world.”

David Brower, first Executive Director of the Sierra Club: “Childbearing [should be] a punishable crime against society, unless the parents hold a government license … All potential parents [should be] required to use contraceptive chemicals, the government issuing antidotes to citizens chosen for childbearing.”

Bill Maher: “I’m pro-choice, I’m for assisted suicide, I’m for regular suicide, I’m for whatever gets the freeway moving – that’s what I’m for. It’s too crowded, the planet is too crowded and we need to promote death.”

Democrat strategist Steven Rattner: “WE need death panels. Well, maybe not death panels, exactly, but unless we start allocating health care resources more prudently — rationing, by its proper name — the exploding cost of Medicare will swamp the federal budget.”

Barack Obama’s primary science adviser, John  Holdren: “A program of sterilizing women after their second or third child, despite the relatively greater difficulty of the operation than vasectomy, might be easier to implement than trying to sterilize men. The development of a long-term sterilizing capsule that could be implanted under the skin and removed when pregnancy is desired opens additional possibilities for coercive fertility control. The capsule could be implanted at puberty and might be removable, with official permission, for a limited number of births.”

Finnish environmentalist Pentti Linkola: “If there were a button I could press, I would sacrifice myself without hesitating if it meant millions of people would die.”

Also, by eugenist Peter Singer: “Some people carry genes that mean any children they produce will be severely mentally *******. As long as the lives of these children are pleasant, it would not, according to the replaceability argument, be wrong to perform a scientific experiment on a child that resulted in the death of the child, provided another child could be conceived to take its place.”


The border that separates Haiti & the Dominican Republic, on the 29,530 square mile Island of Hispaniola, is ruthlessly guarded.


President Richard Nixon Tape #697-29

Nixon: “A majority of people in Colorado voted for abortion, I think a majority of people in Michigan are for abortion, I think in both cases, well, certainly in Michigan they will vote for it because they think that what’s going to be aborted generally are the little black *******.”

Nixon Tape #700-10

Nixon:  “… as I told you and we talked about it earlier, that a hell of a lot of people want to control all the ***** *******.”
Maddy Feb 2022
Only three today
Sometimes they work together
Others separate but aligned in a galaxy we have yet to encounter
A positive democratic world in which we live as caring human beings
Is this a dream that won't come true
Ask that Orange colored clown and the January militia he rules
Does everybody have a different truth and kindness
Even Bill Maher has a negative view of the future
Some live in fear like chicken little the sky is falling
They are afraid of their own shadows
Are we so imbalanced after two years of uncommon ground?
We are so out of whack and can't come back better than before?
We can't have a conversation
We forgot how to think,share,and listen
Some live in yesterday
Some today
While others hope they have a tomorrow
History is repeating the sixties
John Lennon lyrics ring true
For me,aspire higher and creatively use my imagination for the greater good of one nation

C@rainbowchaser2022
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
I never thought I'd write something
akin to this, an atypical Tuesday...
the modem ***** off on a snooze
and is to never wake up...
****...
going cold turkey with the whiskey
is one thing... but an internet
blank canvas is another...
turns out I'm more an addict for
originality in blank pixel: insert
text here addiction that the whiskey...
so I did the last thing I thought
I would ever do when drinking
and not having internet access...
I watched the ******* television!

first came late night with maher...
I almost puked by the bias...
then came the movie 2012...
  boring as **** cooling down
in a freezer...
   but...  but! the third instalment?
true grit (1969 version)?
I started thinking: now we're talking!
I can focus! if I was watching something
like transformers with all the manic cutting
and recuting and editorial gluttony...
either tunnel vision, or double vision
and a drunk's carousel...
         I came to the following conclusion...
if I'm ever to drink... and watch t.v.?
it has to be a western...
    and it's a toss between Clint Eastwood
or John Wayne... more likely the latter...
after all, with that pink attaché around his
neck? probably the first metrosexual...
but **** me, those movies had style...
I could focus my shambo head of filth
like a hawk...
   there was PANORAMA... still life-esque
Cezanne style approach...
   a canvas of still life and  reversed
agoraphobia of a few riders working their
way through a static / incremental movement
maze of Calculus..
       plus limited editing, cutting...
and the dialogues were engaging...
before the **** industry became the breeding
ground for recruiting actresses,
I.e. classicaly the theatre...
        but the cinematography was there,
you could focus on both the canvas
and the clogs and knobs weaving
their way through it...
  so I thought... who the he'll needs psychedelics...
when all that is required is a bottle of
scotch and a 1960s western?
      the remains of the night,
and the bottle?
     subsequently spent...
in the kitchen, on the kitchen floor...
sitting I  Turkish akimbo...
smoking, drinking...
   chasing the moon with my eyes...
playing the Buddhist one hand clapping
with my shadow...
   listening to 9 lazy 9?...
   from 1994... *electric lazyland
...
      call it what you like,
mindfulness, a meditative trance...
deep thinking...
   there is a classical term for it...
a Cartesian fusion
    of: res cogitans (thinking thing)
    and res extensa (extended thing)...
    you know it already..
        cogitans extensa: extended thinking...
either that, or I was contemplating
  an artist's self-portrait needs...
   the so called vanity projects...
   perhaps this broken modem haitus is
a good thing...
       if on pixel "paper" I'm Dr Jekyll...
in handwriting...  I'm Mr Hyde.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
wild eyed... unlike a live Tom Waits
track...

   more like... madonna...
and a song from, "the" first album...

lucky star...

           bill maher humor on
the basis of the Apu controversy...

oh... and the 1970s Italian
pornographic movie industry...
classic *****...
like... these people really like
to ****, what's supposed to be ******,
and deviate from whatever
the hand translates into imitating
****... like sitting on it
for the third-person numbing
experience...

    sure... but... who minds the dubbing?
ah ****...
throw in some scenes
from bret easton ellis' story...
but keep the madonna track...
star... light... star right...
star light... star right...
        star light... ooh yeah!

oh yeah... 1970s Italian pornographic
films...
      lucky would i be,
had i **** like that...
  Monica Roccaforte and all...
        the modern *******
is just crass...
   i sweat to god...
i will never give up the pleasure
of taking a ****,
to merely replace it with doing
****...
no chance... ah-ah...
            (like some variant a-ha or something?)

but you know, it's Italian,
i ****** off to fine art once...
the Renaissance nudes...
      what?!
                 the women have a let-go moment
being able to monetize videos
using ******...
me? or any man?
what... arm-chair and scented candles?

here's the combo:
take a **** (no. 1)
take a **** (no. 2)
  ******* (no. 3)...
then jump into the shower (no. 4)...
who said anything about
the theatrics of *******
outside of a female
compensation theater...
it's all
   equivalent to Azamat
  (film? Borat)...
           it's equated to taking a ****...

but please keep that
madonna track in mind...
             lucky star...
the bass on that track is like...
an avalanche...
            i get a ******* just thinking
about it.
Ryan O'Leary Dec 2020
.                                 Con Te Partiro

         My friend Joseph Maher had but one eye, yet,
         he drove his Citroen in London. Living in The
       Luberon of Provence, I often experimented with
        an eye patch, just to experience what it was like.

      When Joe died, my eulogy was Bocelli's vision of
       Con Te Partiro which was chosen purposely and
     I sang it in Italian, solo, but, as an added gesture of
  respect to both of them, it was sung in optical oblivion.






For Andrea Bocelli & Joe.

— The End —