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Brian Duran Jan 2011
****** off metaphoric empowerment
Drained from mental imbalances
Constructed from symbolic injustices
Surviving political malpractices
Jaded mind and a jellyfish spine
Land minds and a dozen dimes
Days roll on this glass rock
All I hear is the tick and tock
Thirty three is all I read
Number seven is all I need
Fragmented thoughts and acquired taste
Requires thought of fragmented hate
Twisted tongue over a gun
It's old and useless, but cool and vintage
Copyright belongs to Citoc Productions
Nicholas N Jun 2017
Adoringly applauding
Arrogant acrobatic aristocratic,
Bourgeois bad-boys.
Braving boredom and bills,
Caught controlling criminal
Circles like a circus.
Daring to do, and to deceive
Desperate damsels in distress,
Each accepting enemies.
Everyone explaining elements
From the final fights
Frought with frustration.

Getting groovy- grown old
Garnering glittering gold.
Holidaying in Getafé,
Holding onto hands of harlots,
Implying impotence and insolence,
Ignorant in their ilk.
Jovially joking,
Jesting about juvenile jealousies;
"I kissed Katie Kurtis"
Knowingly comments one kid.

Left to love and lose,
Like Caesar and his laurels,
Making music and malice,
Manifesting manic malpractices.
Natalie narrates,
"Not now, not ever".
Obvious obstacles avoided,
Objectifying objects that are obsolete.
Praying, pondering over pros,
False prophets photographed as they pose.

Qualifying quangos,
Quantitative quelling of queries,
Raising riots and runctions,
Realising regal and royal remedies,
Celebrating summer solstice,
Solitude is bliss.
Try tampering telephones
To transcribe threat of treason,
Unreal unilateral promises
Unwound by underlying urchins.
Vowing to voice very real values,
Vox pop video views.
Wearing water coloured wellingtons,
Wondering over wax cuneiform works.

Xylophone playing exemplary,
Xavier exists in the imaginary.
Yearly yearning for you,
You're yoked as Gonne with Yeats
(unequally)
Zeroing in on Ritz and Rubble,
Rubble the Zealots want to reign.
I wrote this as an exercise in rhyming and vocabulary use. It was fun
Whereafter dost thou reasoning come from?
Fornever now, it seems
Thou refuseth to cease misinterpretainting
Creating inconsistencies
Contaminatrix of the truth
Unrelating just enough of the tale
To disemvowel and fractionalize reality
Circumstating confusion with the twisting of words
So as to use the truth as a weapon of dysfunction
Funding the wages of thine own endeavastaions
With the tears and sufferustrations of innocents
Transmortifying truths into lies
Not so simple decapitalizations
Of actualities transpawned into vague factsimilarities
Swaying favor to thy manipulatory malpractices
If only for a spell in thy momentioning selfascism
Never quite learning thy lessoning
But so violently hypocritiquing those bestowing the same unto thee
In the idiodicies of constantly evapartaking in the twisting of words
Thou hast fashioned thyself into thy greatest falsity
And that is the complete truth thou shalt never fully receive
I have been turning this idea over for a spell now. I may not have done it quite so as some authors of past have before, but I felt that the creating and twisting of words in this instance brings more understanding to the madness and selfish motivation some people feel when twisting the truth into a half truth, which ultimately evolves the truth into lies, so as to use it to sway favor or assist in their personal gain in whatever way they are doing so. It is one thing that I still see being done to myself and so many others by people who do not realize that by enlisting the use of half truths, they have become nothing but a lie themselves, which eventually they alone will continue to believe, and most will not even entertain the idea of this when confronted with it unless doing so with more lies, unless it is done to them as they do to others. That is usually the only time they insist that it is quite a wrong and dishonorable thing to do to someone, which fully demonstrates the definitions of both hypocrisy and self deception, in my opinion. I have used the twisting and creating of words in a positive way to support and emphasize what I see as the whole truth, instead of in a negative way merely to create a half truthful lie as so many seem to do. Hopefully I have succeeded.
😭👿

SOLD TO SATAN

(After seeing malpractices in medicine, sitting at a multi clinic, I am writing this, with a plea to all the medical practitioners, to please introspect)

Sold my soul I have to the Satan, once I had, a huge entrance amount given, to a doctor become

Now, for treatment, all the rich, the gullible, those frightened hypochondriacs, I warmly welcome.

For rich I have to become, after recovering my expenses huge, to cover up what I spent; that enormous sum !

With wrong, fancy or even frightful diagnosis, I frighten patients; and unnecessarily even operate upon some.

With my malpractices,  Satan very helpful n cooperative is, n encourages me, to richer by the day become.

Alas, a dedicated professional, one who should be respected next to God, how very commercial has now become !

By misleading the ill n those in dire need of a cure; from a God loving n serving the ill n poor people, I have today, a devil become.

Dear God, will You please forgive me, if I change to a good, kind doctor n a human being become?

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Home is where the dead live
Home is where parts of ourselves are predesposed to be robotic.
So intune as our hearts are
Finding ourselves entombed
Getting acquainted with our faults
Though no one perfect in all actuality
Maybe finding solice in our good will practices
The effect of our malpractices
Intending to patiently ration impatiently painless
Before we face the maintenance
Àŧùl Oct 19
They know that I have special needs.
Due to the May 7, 2010 accident,
Several internal injuries—none bleeds.
For it wasn't a regular event.
Still they ask me to get married.
The accident wasn't normal.
I almost died in it. Almost.

What I got was an incomplete life,
Incomplete because I lost love,
The lover went rogue,
Because she thought I'd die.
She might have been wrong,
But I'm not really alive either.
I'm just an apparition. Really.

I wrote 7 Seconds,
Inspired metaphorically by life,
My own life in Bhaarat,
Your life in the world,
The threat of terrorism,
And the looming oil crisis.
I was not satisfied. Yes.

I wrote The 'Angel?' Saga,
Inspired by my romances,
My metaphysical chances,
The super-romantic dances,
How I lost my love,
How the bird has flown,
I was immensely satisfied. Yes.

Poetry is how I release,
Poetry is how I tease,
Poetry is how I reform,
Poetry is how I transform,
How I live my life,
How I escape death,
I feel safe in these verses. Really.

I wrote the 'Aaryavarta' trilogy,
Inspired by Darwin's evolution theory,
By all the flaws in it, actually,
Peas can't dictate human origins,
We evolved from aliens, possibly,
Human ancestors from a different planet,
More than a hundred thousand years ago!

I wrote 'Swansong: A Tribute?' too.
It envisions a near-future war,
A war between Bhaarat and China,
America will support Bhaarat against China,
That's the ABC of our world's future,
Recalling is hard for me but not writing something new,
The world will punish China too.

For their COVID crimes,
For their SARS crimes,
For their transgression crimes,
For Taiwan and Tibet,
For trade malpractices,
And the crimes against humanity,
Both in Xinjiang and in Tibet.

I do miss being able to play the guitar nicely,
Baby, I miss running fast, sprinting actually,
But my new abilities are not bad either,
I can now earn, and not just money,
But I have earned you too, oh reader,
This is not a Mozart symphony,
Still I'm like a charmer.
My HP Poem #2010
©Atul Kaushal
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
we've reached that sort of ripe old age of having
past relationship regrets:
personally? i love them... i keep them a secret...
well... to a "listening" audience i bare all:
swinging on the moon ****-naked
like a pig before the slaughter...
                 i still don't know why women at work
treat me like either a priest or an advocate:
the stories i heard: drinking problems, drug problems,
past-exes problems: dating boys who would
have drinking and drug problems who would
drain them of their money: blackmail them etc. etc.,
i'm sitting there and? no edge...
try telling your life story to a woman telling you hers...
ha ha... as if...
i don't know why the sudden: what would you call
it? availability? transparency?
   i have a rubber ear: it stretches... or as the fellow saying
goes: in one ear out the other...
just today i was bothered...
well it was either catching the 499 bus to Gallows' Corner
Halfords and getting the broken szprycha
spoke: of the front wheel... it snapped before i was
gearing up to a cycle routine... lucky me...
from the heat... so it was either me catching the 499 bus...
oh man... the wait... and no pubs along the way...
**** it... 103 to Romford and then the 86 to Chadwell Heath...
first to Halfords... sure... we can sort this out...
the problem is this that and the other...
but i only replaced pierced tyres... the mechanic will be
back at the end of August...
great for him: not so great for me...
this was bound to happen... auxiliary plan...
Cycle King... an independent bicycle store...
i walk in: see this problem? fixable? yep... give me your details...
it will be done by Friday... how much?
20 squid... brilliant... thank you ever so much...
then onto the Eva Hart pub
for a pint of Guinness... you seriously can only drink
Guinness in a pint sized glass from a keg...
no Guinness bottled no Guinness canned...
so i's sit down at a random table able...
have a random conversation... three guys breaking *****:
literally... joking about this,
talking seriously about that...
               ol' Ernest wrote this brilliant short-story
compilation: men without women...
and it's true! men reciprocate they talk backwards
and forwards...
men "talking" with women? it's a ******* cul de sac
one way street... women talk: men listen...
if it wasn't for the ******* i'd be, most probably,
interested in keeping pigeons or collecting stamps...
well no: i wouldn't go as far as creating toy train sets...
let's not get too excited...
we talked about the weather, work, working outside
in this current heat... the three women at a table next
to us... age restrictions on attractiveness... blah blah...
me looking like someone who ought to be in a band...
me telling him: well... i used to play guitar...
but i could never find a drummer...
(lie - there was Tobey from Switzerland at Edinburgh,
but he was already in a band,
lucky me for having a jam session with a drummer)
i found a bassist once... we recorded a demo tape...
just ******* around...
point being: i tried that scam of a website last night...
i was BLITZED out of my already numb-skull...
3 messages in and i knew i made a mistake...
after the 3 message?
                       PAY UP: THIRSTY BOY...
thank god i set up a fake john pickwick account
on aol.com...
                                  a nice pretty blonde little number...
the scam was quick to pick up...
oh ****... what am i doing here?
                    did someone spike my whiskey sharpshooter
with some acid?
i tell her: i'm going to have to delete this account...
why why why?!
listen... i've been to a few brothels in my time...
i'm not into A.I. anti-psychological ***...
                i'm not that thirsty: mind you, i am...
but i'm thirsty for some watermelon sorbet...
  i'd love a watermelon sorbet...
or some raspberry kefir...
                        oh girl: i'm dying for some raspberry kefir...
mind you this scam website promising a pool
of single mums and unfaithful wives is struggling...
why? the same girls on this website have shifted
to attention-******* on twitter...
i was sort of invested in the narrative for that website...
but? 180 characters? that's all?
sure... if you're writing in hieroglyphics...
or writing Mandarin - well: both are hieroglyphics...
anyway...
i seriously need to find a different brothel...
after that stunt my Khedija:
she promises you a date outside the brothel...
you start making plans... book a hotel...
go to the cinema... get some food... **** all night...
and then? she says... oh no no...
so? you go back to the same brothel and have
a ******* with her competition...
normal...
               she stops texting you on Wattsapp...
she probably blocked you blah blah...
hell: i gave up the best *** in my life for? a slap in the face...
she didn't: but she did: she didn't: but she did...
don't make promises you can't keep...
we'll see... i've already been paid and paid off my debt...
so i have spare squids...
she'll either entertain me or she won't my presence:
how far can you go on ******* around with
a ******* without a ******:
slurping on her and giving her the shivers of an ******?
apparently... this other one prior
said out-loud: ooh... this has only happened to me
once before...
so? must be hard to give a ******* an ******...
boasting?! boasting?!
   does anyone think slobbering on a ****...
knowing full well that just 10 minutes prior some Irish
nag was ******* the same **** is supposed
to give me ego-tripping megalomania?!
seriously?!
          this is the ******* crustaceans kingdom of ***...
believe me: it probably sounds nice...
but... this is crab-bucket type of ***...
it's a harem within a harem...
                     it's a revisit to the 1960s "liberation front"
of that great stink of culture...
someone seriously has to sink to his lowest
to revive any self-awareness for everyone else...
me? i think i'm doing just that...
            i don't have a jealous heart...
silly me: for not having a jealous heart...
women love jealous men...
women abhor selfless men...
women love jealous men...
ergo? that white elephant of the the demiurge
in the minds of Semites...
no wonder women adore the sadism they're implored
to succumb to:
while the sheikhs walk in pure white... breezy...
almost linen material: the women are shackled
to BLACK BLACK NIQABS...
fair enough... as long as you don't interfere with my
life: you do you... i'll do me...

it's funny though, how certain things (denoted by nouns) -
mind you: every thing is denoted by a noun:
you can hardly call a stone: stoneless
some made-up adjective...
although: there's the dark and there's darkness...
there's light and lightness...
****... stoney... something is stoney -
it has the credibility of being associated with stones
but isn't a stone...
two words: szprycha: a vamp of a woman...
laska - girl next door beauty...
        laska? walking-stick... but... in ****** ****...
it can refer to a woman...
szprycha, though? oh: that's another level of vamp...

why i don't approach women?
they're unapproachable...
i rather talk ******* with a few random guys:
we have more in common...
it's casual convo.
                 there are no pressures:
in scenarios that don't allow for pressures to exist:
over a pint...
there's no: my eggs are frozen,
i have household chores... my father has dementia...
i have no one to care for him...
i'm a single mum... i need someone to raise
my kiddy...
                    ******* endless lists of potential
headaches... i don't need that!
why? who am i? Atlas or something?!
it's a one way street with women:
they don't care about me...
why even bother entertaining their company?
i'm not even bitter: as much as i love *******:
eating out a prostitutes ******:
i'm not really interested in her not being
interested in my own toils...
i can entertain hers: but if she can't entertain mine?
i better internalise myself:
compartmentalise myself to suit a better: efficient me...
let people see what they want / are expected
to see... and hide what i alone want to see...

i'm not that thirsty...
              while i was riding the bus with my wonky wheel
i was listening to the agony of...
some degenerate byproduct...
YOU ******* WANT DARWINISM?!
YOU ******* WILL GET DARWINISM, PROPER!
what was i listening to?
some genetic byproduct of:
a ****** irresponsibility...
she was screaming in agony in her wheelchair...
i want food! i want food!
oh... such sweetness to that agony...
because it was so innocently mastered...

you're telling me, that Darwinism is actually true?
*******!
if Darwinism was true: ontologically:
then then Nazis would have won the second world war...
sorry... the spider kills the fly...
there's a hierarchy that only a humane aspect
of hell that was crucified disrupts...
i ought to be in charge of a harem...
with my physical dimensions i ought to:
but no... there's nature, there are the elements and there's
human intellect...
the smart nor the fittest reproduce...
the idiots do...
        the most vulnerable do...
                       such sweet song: born from
****** incompetence... a child of suffering...
                   i listened: and i listened deep...
                                    hmm... pain... very primitive...
agile in the mind of a ******...
         Pontius Pilate walked past hardly a ghost...
we shook hands and agreed...
                  of the noble man there remains only a history:
there's no present happening to contribute
to the eventuality of stating events...
me? i'm to be made responsible for the ****** malpractices of
people? that there's a time limit?
people! EASE OUR BURDENS!
but do they listen? of course not!
          
    i know i have passed my limits...
she chose to pet snakes and tarantulas and wed
herself to the next disposable male every Spring...
me? i chose to try to attract the attention
of foxes and wasps...
and keep myself wedded to her in memory...
we're at that ripe old age of having lost
our imagination and salvaging ourselves
in a unison toward the altar of memory...
i don't want to daydream:
i don't want to imagine what's already required
before my eyes...
i have no need to dream...

the night compared to day is already
a worthwhile "dream" that i can live in an expand
my senses on.

— The End —