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Amanda Feb 2018
A: Adorable
M: Mannerly
A: Attractive
N: Natural
D: Dazzling
A: Active
  Amanda,you're a blessing!!
About myself
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
i can't say much about today, well, i probably will,
made a burger and did house chores with Steptoe,
and i know what you're thinking -
the common trend in western society, you actually
like familial interactions, you're not into
7 year itches, you're not inclined to conjure up
Norman Bates all of a sudden - you're content,
quiet respectably normal - and to be frank,
the following as happened to me: the psychoanalytic
technique of regression, i.e. planting false memories
when being psychoanalysed - page 25 of Friday
July the 8th 2016 the times newspaper - headline:
THERAPIST FACES CLAIM OF "BRAINWASHING"
GIRLS - she implanted in them a Freddy Krueger -
a reverse Friday the 13th scenario -
one psychiatrist tried it on me - he hushed the words:
'oh... he was abused as a child' - but the pronoun
usage was already wrong, or simply odd -
this sort of musing aloud got to me worked up,
i said nothing, i continued with an interview, i had a few,
don't you worry, they passed me around like hot charcoal,
they couldn't put a box on me, (bragging? on this subject,
just the reality of what happened) - they employed about
five psychiatrists and two students to decipher me,
i was holding the joker card every time -
they couldn't understand that a real physical ailment
could be translated into metaphysical ailments -
if you mean metaphysics turned into a lysergic acid-like
experience then i might as well have talked to the police -
five of them, none bothered to use the funding the
national health service gets to book an m.r.i. scan,
they prescribe psychiatric drugs assuming your brain
is a sponge that soaked up a chemical soup -
i'm talking natural sedatives, alcohol, not synthetic sedatives:
anti-psychotics. the structure of the family breaks down
in the west, but it's fine, we have legal partnerships
and gay marriage - i guess the latter is the only positive,
but like any married couple, the nagging will invariably
enter the scene, and given that heterosexual marriages break
down, i'm hardly going to bet on homosexual marriages
being the maiden voyage of Titanic without the iceberg.
so 5 of them, beaten to the core, but only this recent story
made me think of the inherent sadism in psychiatry,
regression "therapy" whereby i did for a moment play out
the trick and thought about what sort of abuse i might
have suffered as a child... oh, that time i taught myself
how to ******* aged 8? well, that's self-abuse -
and a pretty good one i might add, few people will *******
and feel ******* but not the end product, or maybe
just me - so Ms. A (as is noted in Poland when a criminal
is identified) did this regression tactic to break up families,
she might have failed hers, and strategically invoked the failures
into other people - we already know that psychiatrists are
very sick people, we just don't know how sadistic they can be
by being subtle in their methods... after all... thought
equated to the senses is 5 times more fragile, and more
sensual if you think about it - all the senses bundled up into
one function, and we don't necessarily know what that
function is taking away a Cartesian moment of realisation,
your daily chores, your professional web of utilities,
after all, what is thinking? fail-safety-mechanism in philosophy?
ask a question - the alternative of a ¶, a new paragraph.
so when a society shuns public intellectualism, philosophers
poets... who do you think will enter in their place in terms
of political dynamics? yep, the men in white coats with pills...
pills pills pills... nothing more, and bogus theories half
expanded and half shunned by a zoological treatment of
human beings - i know there are exceptions, a man last year
stabbed a pensioner 30 times over a minor traffic-accident,
he was labelled a paranoid schizophrenic... oddly enough
i too was labelled that... a 5 minute diagnostic session,
man comes in, i say - a woman across the street is walking
around naked, and so are her daughters... i'm getting this
****** fuelled fantasy working on me, can you tell her to
invest in curtains? i don't mind the naked bit,
but imagining doing a mother and two daughters is a bit
too much for my pigeon brain.
the stimuli ingested by the senses are nothing compared
to what stimuli thinking ingests -
it's less the sun the moon a summer breeze,
and more McDonald, Gucci: pseudo-capitalism with
your generic schizoid symptom - insinuations.
oh believe me, faking this condition out of personal-interest
was necessary - to fake it, to take an interest in it
to see what the other side was doing about it left me
with an inexhaustible source of resources: experience.
i think i'll end the intro and tell you something else.

two books on my lap, Jung's *answer to Job

and the long hard road out of hell - a semi-autobiographic
by Marilyn Manson and neil strauß -
so before you think i write about religious matters
like some cuckoo evangelist having a library of
only one book and a lot to talk about, i don't -
but we live in times where everyone imitated someone,
that someone is already obvious -
funny though, the Greeks invented the concept
of Antichrist... without knowing that the concept
of anti-matter would pop up about 2000 years later -
a coincidence you say? not given the Atomists
Leucippus and Democritus - the theory of anti-matter,
but in a religious person?! travesty you scream!
john of πατμoς - he had the anticipation of anti-matter
like the Atomists cited (obviously there were some
in the east - the Jain Genies - modern day scenes
from Tokyo and Beijing - wouldn't eat a ladybird
or sniff up an airborne microbe) - but hell, if Johnny
~anticipated anti-matter, but really didn't, why
was the anti person invoked? it took all the dereliction
of religion to provide the basis for anti-matter,
and that's no surprise, it makes it easier to think of
another world, no scientist would come up with it,
because only a religious person would somehow conjure
up a mechanism whereby what was once matter turned
into anti-matter, or a version of Christ that reads,
writes, and doesn't give sermons... well, why not?
let's go crrrrazy. yet the main point of this entry is, well,
the profanity Christianity took to when learning about
the tetragrammaton, there's much beauty in it, and yet
for Christianity a crucifix is somehow an improvement...
benedictio fontis (blessing of the fountain), the sign
of the cross is made - Catholics make it on themselves:
forehead, left right, stab at the heart and then
romeo:
if i profane with my unworthiest hand
this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
to smooth that rough toush with a tender kiss.
juliet:
good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much
                                                  (you **** a lot),
which mannerly devotion shows is this;
for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
and palm to palm in holy palmers' kiss;
Orthodox Greek and Russian: forehead, right left,
stab at the heart - hey, why not put a few together,
you know, those gesticulations -
(index, thumb and ******* - the "holy trinity"
in Braille) forehead, left right right left (****,
where's a traffic warden when you need one),
and then hand clenched into a fist... smack... a mea culpa
straight away - honestly, god to a Polish Catholic mass...
go to one... you'll end hearing a Satanic murmur
roaming through the crowd, esp. as the creed of faith
being said... shivers down the spine.
but that's what's written in Jung - from the eloquence
of yhwh to † - in effect a bit more than Christian sign language,
more like the acronym n.e.w.s. - north east west south -
and when he said kneel, he replied don't tempt me,
and when he said kneel and all the kingdoms will be yours,
someone ordered chicken chow mein in defiance
to the moment, and China remained with Confucius,
predictably confused when the one-child state policy came
into effect - ever wonder why they play that pebble
game at the Hajj? you think they're throwing a pebble
at a raw Rodin block of stone before the chisel was aimed
thinking they'll throw a pebble and get two pebbles back?
cohdee Aug 2010
My inspiration has run dry,
my love for art is about to die.
the dimming light,
is slowly fading out of sight.
I have a block in my thought,
so these words can not be brought.
I cant express my own feelings,
i have to rip them off like onion peelings.
my enthusiasm for paint,
is getting to faint.

Rhyming is getting harder,
its something i can not do.
to put these words together,
in a mannerly fashion.
its something i can not do.
im more broken now then before.
A C Leuavacant Aug 2014
A Scream came from up above
From the bell tower
It was so piercing
In my ears
Ouch
Oh no
Not my ears  

I was then required to rise from my nest
stare out the window
And watch in a mannerly fashion as a dark swooping fire engulfed
The bell tower
Oh no
I thought
Not the Bell tower
That is definitely not a good place
For fire to be
No
Not at all

Maybe I should help
To remove the fire
from the bell tower
Yes
That would be
Very helpful indeed
I would be a hero
Oh yes
That would be very nice
But I decided
That I would take the moral high ground
And went back to sleep
Just a little something odd
Richard Riddle May 2015
PRELUDE

Who is this man with name unknown
with silver hair, and beard long-grown-
Who walks among the birds and beasts
with nature catering to his feasts-

"An eremite", say the village folk,
"the hermit on the mound!"
A mystic, an oracle, philosopher, or seer?

"Perhaps, ye'll find the answer,
buried here!"

.........................

He was sitting on a sidewalk bench
a wrinkled hat laid at his feet
Passers-by would drop their change
as they meandered down the street

"God bless you sir", or madam,
he always replied-
In such a gracious and mannerly way ,
that made him impossible to deny
                                    
Some folks would make a comment,
most were polite, others, mild rebukes-
I went to speak on his behalf,
to these young and naive groups.

When I laid my hand on his shoulder
a glint in his eyes put me amiss!
It was then, that I realized
just who this old man is!

"I'll tell you a story, I said,
to the folks standing near,
a tale of caring and compassion-
That I think you'd like to hear"

" I've read legends about "lost gold mines"
and  indian folklore
And I tell you folks, without a doubt,
I've met this man before!"

"It's been 'nigh on to fifty years
since I've been back this way
T'was a time when I nearly lost my life,
I  recall it, as if it happened yesterday!"

Now, the crowd began to grow a bit-
to listen to my tale-
Of exploring an old, abandoned mine
when the walls began to fail.

I told them of the rumble,
when the ground began to quake
How the ceiling began to crumble
when the walls began to shake-

I told them of the stranger
with silver beard, streaked with tan-
Who came out of nowhere
to help a fellow man

The stranger, who gave me water-
who smiled as he gripped my hand,
while I quenched my thirst
from the curse, of this forsaken land

The folklore tells of a holyman
a name he doesn't bore
who strolls the mountain ridges
and across these cactus covered floors

But, I know who, and what he is-
and up my spine it sends the chills-
When I tell you, "you've  come
       face to face
           with......

"The Angel of the Hills!"

copyright: richard riddle May 01, 2015
50+ years following the incident related in my work titled "1894"
Aoife Teese Jun 2014
nothing compares to the empty feeling
that you've left inside of me.
you tell me lovely words,
and then leave me alone
to my own thoughts and creations
i never wanted to love you
but here we are
here i am
alone and confused
and i can't tell you
oh no, no way
you'll judge me
hate me
the way you do to my opinions
my dreams, wishes
my thoughts
you're no good
not for me
not at all
a bad friend
a worse lover
but wow, if i could change you
now wouldn't that be something
make you kinder, more open,
more willing to talk to me,
like you once did
more understanding, more caring
less cold and distant
less painful and agonizing
more appreciative and mannerly
and maybe if you made me cry
a little bit less
with your take take take
and only enough give
to make me crave more and more

wow, if i could change you
now wouldn't that be something
it makes it harder because i know you think i'm pretty
but i'm not nearly enough for you
(i lied about the finale but i needed to get this out i guess)
Emma Clocks May 2013
sometimes a parent is willing to anything for their child, except let them be themselves.
im not smart, im not mannerly, im not anything you want me to be.
and thats okay with me, just not with you.
no matter how many teachers, tutors, or medications you get me i am just me.
and im sorry if thats not good enough for you.
but ive realized i cant change, and thats ok.
because even though i will never reach your standards, im happy.
im content on living the life that God has planned for me.
not the life that you are trying to force on me.
so im sorry i will never be the perfect child you wanted,
im sorry i **** up and make mistakes,
im sorry im human and that im not what you wanted.
i can see the look in your eyes.
that "were not mad, just disappointed" look.
and when i was younger, i hated that look.
but now that look is nothing but a normal look.
im sorry im not what you wanted,
im sorry i **** up and make mistakes,
im sorry im human and that im not what you want.
Patricia Walsh Apr 2014
We sat across from each other in a dimly lit restaurant and I wished I hadn’t chose the seat with a clock in plain sight. I shredded a napkin between my fingers while fishing for words without bait. As he wiped condensation from his glass, I pushed the bits of paper into my hand and piled them in the corner of the table. During the time spent "perfecting" that pile, I pondered deeming the act a delicacy. As farfetched as that sounds, I couldn’t really help it. I dreaded the moment when our eyes would meet again, paired with our own versions of “let’s pretend this isn’t horrible” smiles. No teeth, of course.

I wasn’t nervous about this evening or this man; in fact, my feelings about him were quite certain. He is decent looking, well-spoken, and kind. Despite my initial reaching for the doorknob, he insisted that I enter the restaurant first. Those who know me know I am adamant about holding the door for others, fueled equal parts by principle and politeness, but after a few seconds of lighthearted bargaining, I sensed that he just wasn’t getting that. I reluctantly surrendered with a mannerly grin as he swung the door open. I was not bothered by the fact that he didn’t get it, but more that it didn’t seem worth trying to convince him otherwise.

After we were seated, he mentioned how cold October has been, and how “cool” the leaves look, and carefully spilled a few other cordialities on the table. I cleaned them mostly with agreement, but nothing more. He laughed when I told him I like to read the works of Jonathan Kozol “for fun,” and again when he saw the USA Today in my purse (realizing that I wasn’t kidding when I said I like to read that too). I wasn’t offended. Aside from being used to that sort of response, his laugh was not one of ridicule, but more a laugh of disbelief. A laugh that replaces silence while one reasons with the unfamiliar. Perhaps I would have been offended if he let me hold the door, or if he wanted to know why that mattered so much, but he didn’t, and from that I knew where this was going before it even started moving.

I wasn’t nervous about this evening or this man, but rather, finding the man I wish he was during an evening of which I dream. I wondered how many more napkins I would tear and niceties I would exchange before meeting someone passionate and riveting and curious. Someone who thinks the autumn leaves are “breathtaking,” and laughs at my USA Today because he reads the New York Times. Someone who is just as obstinate about holding doors, but is never annoyed when I say "after you," because he knows I have a point to prove, too. I won't have to explain it, although he will ask me to anyway, just so we can bicker through our smiles at the dinner table. And when he tells me I am "too stubborn," it will be implied that he appreciates my stubbornness most of all. Someone who just appreciates me. I was nervous that man might never -

“Hi guys, are you ready to order?”
Richard Riddle Nov 2015
PRELUDE

Who is this man with name unknown
with silver hair, and beard long-grown-
Who walks among the birds and beasts
with nature catering to his feasts-

"An eremite", say the village folk,
"the hermit on the mound!"
A mystic, an oracle, philosopher, or seer?

"Perhaps, ye'll find the answer,
buried here!"

.........................

He was sitting on a sidewalk bench
a wrinkled hat laid at his feet
Passers-by would drop their change
as they meandered down the street

"God bless you sir", or madam,
he always replied-
In such a gracious and mannerly way ,
that made him impossible to deny
                                    
Some folks would make a comment,
most were polite, others, mild rebukes-
I went to speak on his behalf,
to these young and naive groups.

When I laid my hand on his shoulder
a glint in his eyes put me amiss!
It was then, that I realized
just who this old man is!

"I'll tell you a story, I said,
to the folks standing near,
a tale of caring and compassion-
That I think you'd like to hear"

" I've read legends about "lost gold mines"
and  indian folklore
And I tell you folks, without a doubt,
I've met this man before!"

"It's been 'nigh on to, well, 'many' years
since I've been back this way
T'was a time when I nearly lost my life,
I  recall it, as if it happened yesterday!"

Now, the crowd began to grow a bit-
to listen to my tale-
Of exploring an old, abandoned mine
when the walls began to fail.

I told them of the rumble,
when the ground began to quake
How the ceiling began to crumble
when the walls began to shake-

I told them of the stranger
with silver beard, streaked with tan-
Who came out of nowhere
to help a fellow man

The stranger, who gave me water-
who smiled as he gripped my hand,
while I quenched my thirst
from the curse, of this forsaken land

The folklore tells of a holyman
a name he doesn't bore
who strolls the mountain ridges
and across these cactus covered floors

But, I know who, and what he is-
and up my spine it sends the chills-
When I tell you, "you've  come
       face to face
           with......

"The Angel of the Hills!"

copyright: richard riddle May 01, 2015

related to my work titled "1894"
When i am in a lost State…
i tend to speak alone when the is nobody around,
i tend to walk long distances til im lazy to walk back home,
i become at ease with life and think clearly,

i smile alot
i become so proud about life
i get inspired

I review My achievement
i value My capabilities
i analyse My extraordinarity

I plot counter attack against My enemies
I create room for them to make a mistake so i can use it against them not threaten…

Randomly i smile about the strength i have…
Emotions gets mixed up and cool down in mannerly way

Anyway i just dont fall into a trace of lost State…
Even excitement cant take me to that state…
Only bad things can ignite that…

Its a good way
it help to ease up
and think clearly
its not spontaneous
it defeats anger…

Its my kind of lost State…
LaFayette Oct 2019
Hey you forgot to close the blinds again
You have to know the distance isn’t far
I can see right through with the lights on
And now you are getting ready for bed

Who takes a shower this late at night
And no, I’m not sitting at the window for you
I am an accidental viewer taking in a show
I swear I’m not a creep, just right place right time

How fast do I have to look away embarrassed
To still be considered a mannerly gentleman
And not some disgusting ******, enjoying it
But to be honest, you look too good to stop
FunSlower Feb 2022
Time blessed me yesterday. I saw you
Open up your eyes under shutters at the rise.

Don’t let me forget to fall
Each and every day;
Say truly what it means for two to stay.
Even on our days of Blue,
Roses of Red surround you.
Voices so soft can sound a song so loud. Yet
Evanescent are the slips that separate true lips.

Today I see you gleaming.
Happy! Two and one.
Every moment here is so much fun.

Before I let new moons make a memory,
Emboss me one more time, ever mannerly.
Slide down beside me, enticed by niceties.
There’s nowhere else I’d ever rather be.
Gifted with new moments.
Lifted up by true romance.
Enclasping two monuments.
Eclipsing blue in red reverence.
Medusa May 2018
Advice for Geraldine on her Miscellaneous Birthday

stay in line. stay in step. people
are afraid of someone who is not
in step with them. it makes them
look foolish t’ themselves for
being in step. it might even
cross their minds that they themselves
are in the wrong step. do not run
nor cross the red line. if you go
too far out in any direction, they
will lose sight of you. they’ll feel
threatened. thinking that they are
not a part of something that they
saw go past them, they’ll feel
something’s going on up there that
they don’t know about. revenge
will set in. they will start thinking
of how t’ get rid of you. act
mannerly towards them. if you don’t,
they will take it personal. as you
come directly in contact face t’ face
do not make it a secret of how
much you need them. if they sense
that you have no need for them,
the first thing they will do is
try t’ make you need them. if
this doesn’t work, they will tell
you of how much they don’t need
you. if you do not show any sadness
at a remark such as this, they
will immediately tell other people
of how much they don’t need you.
your name will begin t’ come up
in circles where people gather
to tell about all the people they
don’t need. you will begin t’ get
famous this way. this, though, will
only get the people who you don’t need
in the first place
all the more madder.
you will become
a whole topic of conversation.
needless t’ say, these people
who don’t need you will start
hating themselves for needing t’ talk
about you. then you yourself will
start hating yourself for causing so
much hate. as you can see, it will
all end in one great gunburst.
never trust a cop in a raincoat.
when asked t’ define yourself exactly,
say you are an exact mathematician.
do not say or do anything that
he who standing in front of you
watching cannot understand, he will
feel you know something he
doesn’t. he will take is a serious
blow. he will react with blinding
speed and write your name down.
talk on his terms. if his terms
are old-fashioned an’ you’ve
passed that stage all the more easier
t’ get back there. say what he
can understand clearly. say it simple
t’ keep your tongue out of your
cheek. after he hears you, he can
label you good or bad. anyone will
do. t’ some people, there is only
good an’ bad. in any case, it will
make him feel somewhat important.
it is better t’ stay away from
these people. be careful of
enthusiasm…it is all temporary
an’ don’t let it sway you. when asked
if you go t’ church, always answer
yes, never look at your shoes. when
asked you you think of gene autry
singing of hard rains gonna fall say
that nobody can sing it as good as
peter, paul and mary. at the mention
of the president’s name, eat a pint of
yogurt an’ go t’ sleep early…when
asked if you’re a communist, sing
america the beautiful in an
italian accent. beat up nearest
street cleaner. if by any
chance you’re caught naked in a
parked car, quick turn the radio on
full blast an’ pretend
that you’re driving. never leave
the house without a jar of peanut
butter. do not wear
matched socks. when asked to do 100
pushups always smoke a pound
of deodorant beforehand.
when asked if you’re a capitalist, rip
open your shirt, sing buddy can
you spare a dime with your
right foot forward an’ proceed t’
chew up a dollar bill.
do not sign any dotted line. do not
fall in trap of criticizing people
who do nothing else but criticize.
do Not create anything. it will be
misinterpreted. it will not change.
it will follow you the
rest of your life. when asked what you
do for a living say you laugh for
a living. be suspicious of people
who say that if you are not nice
t’ them, they will commit suicide.
when asked if you care about
the world’s problems, look deeply
into the eyes of he that asks
you, he will not ask you again. when
asked if you’ve spent time in jail,
announce proudly that some of your
best friends’ve asked you that.
beware of bathroom walls that’ve not
been written on. when told t’ look at
yourself…never look. when asked
t’ give your real name…never give it.


Copyright Bob Dylan
This was printed in the programs of his October 31, 1964 performance.
at Carnegie Hall, in New York City
One of my all-time favorite pieces of writing by Bob Dylan.
(presumably still alive
predicated on rumored sightings dive
ving fast as blazing saddles,
     her blitzkrieg,
     nothing but a blurry beehive.)

Swifter than Usain
     (lightening) Bolt
Eden Liat
     (thine eldest daughter,
     a mixed hybrid breed
      greyhound and whippet)
     leaves in the dust
     topnotch any racehorse

     prompting speculation,
     she harkens, and begat
     from a long line,
     sans award
     (at trough feed ding),
     many a cooly
     winning super naturally
     infused awk worded Colt

surpassing (with a flash,
     plus even sub track ting
     considerable handi
     capped add halt
ting delay), thine
     prestigious, princess,
     and prodigious exalt
ting marathon running

     smart lee zipping
     as a whip lash heiress,
     thru no fault
     in the stars
     of her astrological designs
oft times humbly declines
adulation, benediction, dedication
     and deferentially finds

reasons amazingly, gracefully,
     and mannerly deflects
     self imposed grueling practices,
     that she quickly grinds    
    into pulverized powder,
     any high top custom made
     high tech lines
     brand name

     threadbare sneakers saved
     with countless
     trophies that aligns
     storied (and stuffed
     animal bedecked)
     bookshelf, even gag
me with a spoon
     humor tinged competitions,

     faux rotten tum ate oh
     (John Heinz)
seeded "ketchup with me"
     hash-tag game
     opened to all kinds
of village people, including
     some barenaked ladies,
     where flashy Mainliners

     dressed to the nines
     (essentially for sound
     garden variety public,
     who generally favor squash),
     that crop up during
     Indian Summer salad days

     punctuates the warm air,
     where one after
     another lover doth appear
     oak kay embracing ephemeral
     pseudo sappy romance
     spine tingling
     as sharp needling pines.
I keep myself suspended in thin air
Through my weak arms,
Pulling the rope in a pulley tied to my hips,
Trembling muscles, fearing eyes, missing voice,
I see the ground getting farther
As my hands force me up.
I'll hit the soil, but when?

I suspend myself in a road
Between two cities I recognize,
But stuck in a middle town,
Unknown, bizarre, half dead,
Waiting a never coming repair,
A volatile gasoline to move me,
The guidance to be back on track,
But I get used to the town,
People suddenly are acquainted,
Unstrange, polite, mannerly.
I'm suspended between those cities
By a thin web of limits,
My lack of imagination,
My despise for shortcuts,
My eyes closed to any opportunity
(Received as an horrendous spell).

I'm in betweens,
The half way,
The dissonance of the division of a semitone,
The missing particle of quarks,
The dark half of a lightbeam.
I'm suspended, panoramic.

I'm not myself anymore,
I'm not myself yet.
winter sakuras Sep 2016
My thoughts are jumbled up pieces
of scattered paper
tissue soden brains and
flecks of dusty gold
flung across peaks and valleys
of snowy isolated mountains
rapidly floating upon
a commoner's luxurious terrace
a dog's humane mannerly gentleness
a young one's elderly smile.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
well, probably the longest relationship i ever had,
so we're doing it with a ******,
on the bed, on the floor, in the bath...
and then she suggests an ingenius plan:
i'll take the contraceptive pill, and you take
that gimp-for-your-****-rubber off,
and then you ******* into me, because i feel
like i need to have that experience.
sure thing babe.
                    oh, by the way? it took me
about three dates to get an ******* in suggestion
of trust...
             what's with this: men can get an *******
prompto! on the first sight of **** and a ******?
i'm not a robot, i can't objectify you straight
away... the ******* my case...
        prostitutes use cream to oil up,
          i need to oil up on a meaningful conversation...
talk milan kundera with you, or share
a similar taste in music... listen to your fetish for
certain pop songs...
                       anways... few months in and
we're ******* in her st. pestersburg apartment...
        so she not exactly a soppy story of
                            the matchstick girl with no shoes...
and she proposes to me at the same time...
   i didn't even get a chance to bend my knee,
buy a ring in secret and surprise her...
                            nope...
         that classical **** didn't happen...
               how often does that happen to men,
i.e. when a woman "proposes"?
                     i'd say one-in-a-millionth's chance
of it happening...
                                so the unearthing of the nag hammadi
library, and the st. thomas gospel and
how you'll enter the kingdom of heaven by
turning male into female, and female into male...
          **** me... that caught me by surprise...
i didn't even see it coming...
                 and then... boom!
     we're not married, she breaks up with me,
gives me back our engagement ring, she chose...
                and then calls me up: i'm pregnant...
        and it's july...
                              isn't it too early for christmas?
i thought we had an agreement?
                    i have *******... a ****** isn't
much of a bother...
            no, but i don't want to explore latex suit
fetishes...      fair enough...
             i'd love to, but **** me...
           thanks for suggesting i read some bulgakov
while you continued to play your video games...
god, i have a fetish for juxtaposing memories,
   like looking into a prism, or a diamond,
or sketching rodin's statue the kiss from several
angles at tate modern, before some idiotic lady
imagined an interpretation, and wrapped ropes
around the statue... so only the most "important"
part of the statue were exposed... but not the actual -

if i profane with my unworthiest hand
this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Your hand is like a holy place that my hand
is unworthy to visit. If you’re offended
by the touch of my hand, my two lips are
standing here like blushing pilgrims, ready
to make things better with a kiss.

good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
which mannerly devotion shows in this,
for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.


        ok, shaken pear... we get the picture... amen;
which will never be a frenchy with a *******.

but **** me! i just graduated and i need to get my
footing!
                          i was 21...
                        thank **** i gained british citizenship
and she had a russian passport;
  +, what with her turning all schizophrenic on
me...        what do i know about "hearing" voices?
i was sweating on a roof, roofing, as you do,
                 and it's like:
         what i love about this self-indulgence?
          **** never gets boring, however many times
i recollect it...
                                    i can turn into a proust,
or a tolstoy, simple on this sole act in the theatre
of my life...             obviously i might bore some people,
but, ****, i'm not even yawning, or in want of a yawn...
just recently i became acquainted with the acronym
                         mg...tow?
             mig... tau?        soviet MiG-29? mikoyan?
        gurevich? RSK MiG?  towing what?  
                      that's english for you,
it's not like the french deconstructionism akin to derrida,
much simpler in english... craft acronyms!
Fox Mar 2018
My mother expects me to
Look as good as possible
Act as mannerly as possible
Make the best grades possible
But sometimes
I just can’t
But I love you Mom...

So I’ll try my best
Jay M Feb 2020
Baby, you said you wanna be
Royalty
We can be anything we wanna be
So long as it's you and me
I'm happy to be
The queen to your king
The medic to your soldier
But you had better let me fight too

I smile when I look and see the ring
On your finger
Oh I linger
On the happy moments we have
And will keep making

Let me put my head on your shoulder
When I'm getting tired
You put your head on mine
That's fine
It's always good
To dream beside you
And to hear you say you love me too

One day I want to put the real ring
On your finger
But for now linger
On the one that's there
Let me brush your hair
Behind your ear
And tell you silly jokes
Take you to see my folks
Oh love, I love you
And I'm so glad that you love me too

Took me to your house
Saw your cat catch a mouse
Introduced me to your mama
I'm glad there is no drama
Introduced me to your siblings
Quite the young little yearlings
Introduced me to your family
They're quite mannerly

Baby, I've still got so much I want to show you
But right now, what can I do?
Ah, I know
I'll show
Every part of who I am
And I gotta say; ****
I've shown you a lot
You've shown me what you've got
But I still have a bit more
I hope I'm not a bore

Love, you said you wanna be
Royalty
We can be anything we wanna be
So long as it's you and me
I'm happy to be
The queen to your king
The medic to your soldier
But you had better let me fight too
Because I'll never stop fighting for you.

- Jay M
February 21st, 2020
He called me last night and sang "Royalty" by Connor Maynard, and when he finished singing he asked me, "So will you be my queen?" I said yes, and could not stop smiling for quite a while. That was the best surprise ever, and he's just so darling. Turns out he wasn't talking to me because his mother had taken his phone, and was going through it. I really was worried over nothing, and feel silly for allowing my anxiety to get the better of me. Everything is alright again, and I'm glad for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Only a king bows down to his queen, but in the game of chess the queen protects her king."

No idea what that quote is from, but I love that quote.
They say every coin has two faces, but so does human.

"You're so nice", they'll compliment you,
But they talk so bad behind your back, you have no clue.
They try to manifest themselves so nice and kind,
But they always have some demon thoughts running in their mind.
Who is an angel, who is a devil, there's so much doubt,
Such a situation is really difficult to figure out.

They say every coin has two faces, but so does humans.
They'll talk to you so mannerly and politely,
Just wait and watch! They'll show their true colours slightly.
They'll be so friendly with you and will walk hand-in-hand,
However, stabbing behind your back is what they've actually planned.
Phew!! Human beings are really difficult to understand.
Yenson Jun 2019
They say I must have sorrow
the type they own and carry always
but I do not know where to find or buy it
would it be in an unblemished past left pristine
or perhaps in hard toil and gainful honest endeavors
perhaps in meetings and partings well made and gratifying
or the laughter and light shared sincerely, unstintingly with others
could it be hiding in my open generosity or help rendered to pals
maybe it lurks in my mannerly and respectful ways with all I know
Ah! all those random kids and animals that always seem to like me
do you think, perhaps they all had sorrow and I missed it all along

I don't know, I really don't know
I even searched within, looked into secret places
but they all just contain smiles, laughter, warm memories
some had records of jobs well done, of sounding deeds and love
of enduring achievements, laudable out-lays and pats and thumbs up
one or two places held honest mistakes made but also had apologies
a place had anger but it also contained justifiable before it, I'm human
Ah you're stuck they say, that's sorrowful and sad they cackle meanly
but I live and breathe, see, hear, feel and taste, some others don't, see!
Yes, but you're lonely and friendless, how about that, tell us Sunshine
No! lonely not, for I have family, I have God and I have books, music

They say they'll cause me sorrow
Sages say you have sorrow to cause others sorrow
so look within yourself and know you carry more burden
The truth its known, will set you free but hide from it and fester
Truth and justice are the edifying spine and laws of social order
where does truth lives when lies are hurl  to fling sorrow to others
more sorrow merely fills the emptiness of sorrowfuls'  an they hurt
I cannot find sorrow, my conscience unaffected, my mind joyous so
pray the Creator offers solace to those in pain and help all afflicted
remove the logs in damaged eyes as they seek to remove the speck
their sorrows see in those still unable to find that elusive sorrow
never judge someone's character based on the words of another. Instead, study the motives behind the words of the person casting the bad judgment. An honest woman can sell tangerines all day and remain a good person until she dies, but there will always be naysayers who will try to convince you otherwise. Perhaps this woman did not give them something for free, or at a discount. Perhaps too, that she refused to stand with them when they were wrong — or just stood up for something she felt was right. And also, it could be that some bitter women are envious of her, or that she rejected the advances of some very proud men. Always trust your heart. If the Creator stood before a million men with the light of a million lamps, only a few would truly see him because truth is already alive in their hearts. Truth can only be seen by those with truth in them. He who does not have Truth in his heart, will always be blind to her

— The End —