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Jessica Leigh Jun 2014
Oh girlie, girlie!
Oh Meghan, Meghan!
I must confess,
I still believe (still believe),
That I can crash to the ground!
Give me a sign,
To give me the clap Meghan one more time!

Oh girlie, girlie!
Oh Rebecca, Rebecca!
I'm addicted to you.
Don't you know that you're flamboyant!
And I love what you do.
Don't you know that you're flamboyant!

Oh girlie, girlie!
Oh Daniel, Daniel!
I think I did it again,
I made you believe that I can fly,
Oh Daniel!
To pet a cat like that is just so typically me.
Oh girlie, girlie!

****!.. I did it again!
I tried to pet a kitty cat!

Oh girlie, girlie!
Oh Anna, Anna!
I think I made you believe that I can touch the sky.
****!.. You think that I can touch the sky.

Oh girlie, girlie!
I'm not that cynical !
You see my problem is this,
band people,
Wishing I had a rainbow mouth .

Oh girlie, girlie!
Oh Meghan, Meghan!
Oh Rebecca, Rebecca!
Oh Daniel, Daniel!
Oh Anna, Anna!
I must confess,
I still believe (still believe),
That I can crash to the ground!
Give me a sign,
To give me the clap Meghan one more time!
SONG GENERATOR AGAIN!!!
Yenson Jun 2022
The real strong confident woman
is not one blowing as the winds blow
following the crowds screaming unison
compensating insecurities in dramatic displays

The real strong confident woman
bright intelligent assured and composed
holds 'say as you like but I have & own my mind
and its not for batter to populist whims or dictates

The real strong confident woman
is not for sham to gain approval & recognition
or in hock to prevailing tides and cheap power plays
true strength errs and atoned as true victory is owned

The real strong confident woman
seeks not to be dressed as darling of the hordes
but a life force able to think & go against the grain
wise in the knowing that a strong man is merely an equal

The real strong confident woman
has no time to play games or toss the dice
for to own yourself is to trust your essence and vision
and be able to dance heartily to the beats of your own drum










By Rachel Burchfield
Published 3 Days Ago
We didn’t see any public interaction this weekend between Prince Charles and daughter-in-law Meghan Markle, but apparently the Prince of Wales has a secret nickname for the Duchess of Sussex, The Daily Express reports—and it’s quite touching.

But we have to say, also a bit unexpected: The nickname, says a commentator, is “Tungsten.”

Before you scratch your head as to a.) why Charles calls Meghan an element on the periodic table and b.) why it’s touching, let Christine-Marie Liwag Dixon of The List explain why it’s a “pretty neat compliment” and harkens back to Meghan’s “resilient nature.”

“Meghan Markle hasn’t had an easy time of it since joining the royal family,” she said. “Not only has the press hounded her relentless, but she has also said that she felt less than at home in the royal family. The royal family may not have approved of Meghan and Harry stepping down as senior royals, despite them doing so to escape an environment that was clearly not good for their mental health. However, it seems that Prince Charles had a lot of respect for Meghan’s resilient nature. This was evident in the secret nickname he reportedly had for her: ‘Tungsten.’”

The reason why, Liwag Dixon said, was explained by royal correspondent Russell Myers, who said Charles “nicknamed her after the metal as she is ‘tough and unbending.’”

“Tungsten is the strongest naturally occurring metal in the planet,” Liwag Dixon said. “That makes this a pretty neat compliment, all things considered.”

Though Prince Harry and his father have had tension over the years, Charles and Meghan’s relationship has been known to be solid, culminating with Charles walking Meghan partially down the aisle at her 2018 wedding to his younger son.

By doing this, “Charles is literally welcoming Meghan into the royal family in such a kind way,” said Mail on Sunday royal editor Emily Andrews. “It’s [also] such a touching moment between father and son.”
who cares about 'sirs' and cheap respect, who wants a stepford partner or an unequal wife who you have to tutor, who want a ******* but the ***** Johnnies in Blighty, who needs a token wife or loves on the colour of eyes or whether the hair is raven black, what idiotic old man decides grey hair is a deal breaker. what wise man does not know that true beauty is both inside and out and a real strong woman, bold honest sincere kind loyal considered and real is the truest and best partner ever. Harry is a very lucky man....
Calliope Dec 2018
The beautiful girl with the raven hair.
A sleeve of pain she doesn’t remember.
A past of stolen innocence and growing up too fast.
A life of raising her sisters but losing her daughter, because money doesn’t grow on trees and 22 weeks was all the time she could get.
A heart of gold but a facade of steel, too scared to let anyone back in.
A soul that rages of fire, power, and more grit than anyone I’ve met.
A future that my heart wishes for her more than she will ever know.
She will get everything she desires.
Her sobriety will be the medal around her neck.
Her life will be the trophy she won back.
And her beautiful children will be the emblem of strength that let them be born.
I just got back from a psychiatric care unit and the people I’ve met have changed me forever.
Jay Wasnothing Jul 2013
I hate my memory
When it notices the date is a six,
Because that's the day we built a love out of sticks.

I hate my hair
When it's long enough to flutter down to my chest,
Because that's when you thought it looked the best.

I hate my songs
When one that I edited the lyrics of plays,
Because it reminds me of those happy days.

I hate my words
When they remind me of yours,
Because they can make a person crawl on all fours.

I hate my mood
When it reminds me of how I felt dealing with you,
Because my face is red with rage but I feel so blue.

But before I say adieu,
I have one final hate for you.

I hate my poems
When they're written about you, Miss Meghan Green,
Because they're so obscene.
Copyright 2013
Meghan and Harry

So, Meghan and Harry appeared on the unelected
queen of America´s Oprah, last night.
Banality swam in a sea of phoney weeping.
Harry, the prince, when not feeding, the chickens
had to listen to them and nodding his head.
He cut a pathetic figure.
The gutter press goes after all young royals coloured
or not, Harry´s mother was white as the driven snow
yet she was hounded, one can say, to death.
There is one winner here that is hard-as-nails
Meghan got her prince, and she has been
elevated to schmaltz, the upper class of triviality.
drumhound Jun 2014
She draws Crayola green meadows
in which she frolics and laughs
snuggling up to her
imaginary daddy whom she colors
in unstraight multi-hued stripes
accessorized by a large
unselfish heart in brick red
proudly erupting from his chest.
Her sepia brown-blob puppy is
rediculously happy,
just like her
holding the perfect father
she has always dreamed he is.
Together they stare at
blue construction paper skies
and cotton ball clouds
discovering sailing ships,
famous people heads,
and all the animals they will see
on the day he comes
to take her to the zoo.

~

He labors intently within the lines
coloring subdivided spaces
in one direction just the way
he would teach her
if she were here.
Pressing into the bold
outline on a tiger tail
he hears her giggle in his thoughts.

He closes the book
each page fully given life
placing it on the teetering pile of
earlier masterpieces
filed beside his desk
where he and his daughter stored
the art they created
on regular dates they never had.
He rises on the ritual of completion
toward his omnipresent closet
full of stacked and redundant "if onlys",
each one shaped as
a 64-count box
purchased and purchased again
with every book
he intended to share
on their next wax pencil excursion.
On his toes,
one more "if only" goes to the top.

He still colors.

She still dreams.

~

An Orange/Red sun drew itself
out of the bleacher tiered palate
and hung high betwixt
her cottonball clouds
29 years from the start.
Daddy holds his daughter in deep embrace
while a secret artiste' paints
a tiny translucent drop
on her quivering cheek.
The diligence of construction-paper prayers
are answered in the evidence that
there is no crayon for clear...
it is a tear,
and we are really here.

(I love you my precious girl, with every color in the box :-))
sarah bell Jan 2015
i was told i could be anything,
so i chose to be a feminist
because
when i suggested my father help with the laundry,
my mother told me i was crazy.
because
meghan tranior's "all about that bass"
is telling bigger girls to be comfortable in their own skin
because skinny girls already do, right?
because
i'd like to make as much as my male coworkers.
because
i was laughed at for wanting to be a doctor instead of a housewife.
because
people look at me strange when i say i don't want kids.
because
when i gave a speech about feminism in my english class,
i was called a man-hater.
because
"my shoulders distract the boy's education".
because
my mom shouldn't have to worry
about what goes in my drink at concerts.

i will be a feminist until
i can tell my boyfriend
"no babe, i'd rather watch the movie"
and i am not told
"you're depriving him of his needs".
until
my body is my body.
until
i no longer have to carry pepper spray on a keychain.
until
women in foreign countries can vote and drive.
until
woman means human.
until
we understand **** culture
and feminism isn't just about women,
it's about humans.
melodie foley Apr 2014
Seven year old Meghan boasted after school
that she already knew who she was to marry --
His name was Jack
and she had cold, hard facts
to back up her theory
on why he would be her perfect husband
"He's not crazy and we both like legos"

Fair enough.

if only we never grew out of our old toys,
never stopped building and re-building what got torn down
brick by brick
maybe then I'd still be hiding in the closet
kissing eddie martin with the lights off


But neither of us like legos anymore
and I guess we're both slightly crazy

Meghan will learn soon enough
that after a while you will step on too many legos
and you will have had enough
Bunhead17 Oct 2014
Dear future husband,
Here's a few things
You'll need to know if you wanna be
My one and only all my life

Take me on a date
I deserve a break
And don't forget the flowers every anniversary
'Cause if you'll treat me right
I'll be the perfect wife
Buying groceries
Buy-buying what you need

You got that 9 to 5
But, baby, so do I
So don't be thinking I'll be home and baking apple pies
I never learned to cook
But I can find a hook
Sing along with me
Sing-sing along with me (hey)

You gotta know how to treat me like a lady
Even when I'm acting crazy
Tell me everything's alright

Dear future husband,
Here's a few things you'll need to know if you want to be
My one and only all my life
Dear future husband,
If you wanna get that special lovin'
Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night

After every fight
Just apologize
And maybe then I'll let you try and rock my body right
Even if I was wrong
You know I'm never wrong
Why disagree?
Why, why disagree?

You gotta know how to treat me like a lady
Even when I'm acting crazy
Tell me everything's alright

Dear future husband,
Here's a few things
You'll need to know if you want to be
My one and only all my life (hey, baby)
Dear future husband,
Make time for me
Don't leave me lonely
And know we'll never see your family more than mine

I'll be sleeping on the left side of the bed (hey)
Open doors for me and you might get some kisses
Don't have a ***** mind
Just be a classy guy
Buy me a ring
Buy-buy me a ring, babe

You gotta know how to treat me like a lady
Even when I'm acting crazy
Tell me everything's alright

Dear future husband,
Here's a few things
You'll need to know if you want to be
My one and only all my life
Dear future husband,
If you wanna get that special loving
Tell me I'm beautiful each and every night

Future husband, better love me right
When Harry met Meghan, he held his breath,
would write her a poem, if only he could,
and no one else would he love till his death,
and bowed and smiled, as a gentleman should.
And she, in her sheer, unexpected joy,
would admit to herself: "Such an interesting boy!
Now, what can we do with those years ahead?
Watch each other´s eyes, and share our bed!"


(May 2018, ©  JVT Jensson)
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Queen for a day.
Prisoner for life.
Her 'crimes':
New mother and wife;
A woman of color
Thinking for herself;
Just leave her be, please,
Lest history repeat itself.
Fitz
Fritz
Fido
Sandy
Spencer
Chaplain
Bernard
Jesse
Snoopy
Charlie
Charles
Fred
Freddy
Bones
Remmy
Ren­a
Reno
Tony
Julian
Julie
Frisco
Meghan
Addison
Robby
Buddy
Rudy
F­riedrich
Fredrick
Bernie
Rudolph
Adolf
Ferdinand
Rose
Cassie
Cassidy
Lee
Balto
Little *****
Allen
Alvin
Jake
Demi
Randy
Alex
Richard
Alexis
Kenneth
Ken­ny
Chris
Jose
Josey
Rodger
Moe
Joe
Emilio
Walt
Emily
Emma
Maddie
­Anna
Jafar
Aladin
Jasmine
Genie
******
Amber
Gracie
Ramen
Gordy
G­ordon
Jordie
James
Bucky
Huff
Manny
Sam
Samantha
Mary
Marie
Tila
­Rita
Cathy
Tammy
Mickey
Cam
Amelia
Rene
Jeb
Dan
Bagel
Tommy
Donut­
Bubbles
Blossom
Buttercup
Mark
Cody
Andy
Cristo
Andrea
Whiskers
­Mike
Bill
Billy
George
Geo
Joy
Mitch
Trigger
Tigger
Stephen
Archi­medes
Anya
Duncan
Nitro
Crash
Bub
Crystal
Egor
Bernadette
Cammy
T­immy
Antonio
Natasha
Natalia
Ivan
Abbey
Abdul
Carly
Aaron
Omega
F­inn
Nina
Debby
Tomato
Tabby
Artie
Archie
Noah
Kyle
Alfie
Alfred
Conrad
Conner
******
G­unner
Fry
Fries
*******
Constance
Connie
Frank
Fran
Candice
D­andy
Lucy
Lou
Louis
Quincy
Doogle
Dubie
Dakota
Ace
Casey
Barry
Te­rry
Trenton
Gabe
Laurie
Cornelius
Kabob
Sky
Skylar
Rufus
Louie
Ba­rton
Kimmy
Angel
Capri
Basil
Cy
Ruby
Emerald
Eleanea
Elenor
Barth­olomew
Jazz
Dreamer
Thunder
Topaz
Amethyst
Salsa
Meril
Dodo
Toto
­Eric
Barbera
Hannah
Katie
Zoey
Ben
Pinto
Squanto
Columbus
Columbo
Porgy
Bess
Clark
Savannah
Ken­dra
Marco
Leise
Toby
Trevor
Tresten
Treven
Adrienne
Caleb
Carlyn
­Ricky
Gibby
Donny
Han
Solo
Hans
Gabby
Dirk
Spot
Sebastian
Dee
Sco­oby Doo
Shaggy
Polly
Reginald
Burger
Steak Sauce
Ethan
Bradberry
Lucky
Fergie
Cheese
Boxer
Napoleon
Snowball­
Gerald
Jeremy
Benji
Gemma
Pal
Mal
Preston
Jack
Jackson
Molly
Mac­kenzie
Alexie
Alicia
Dora
Olivia
Salvador
Beast
Beauty
Oliver
Dal­e
Rim
Marley
Diego
*****
Bobby
Ralston
Zeke
Rooney
Plato
Cole
Nep­tune
Sailor
Frida
Rico
Dali
Veronica
Victor
Copeland
Swift
Riley
­Tubs
Lassie
Yo-yo
Harvey
Lemonade
Coke
Pepsi
Tanya
Camille
Token
­Laser
Beam
Seamus
Dorthy
Ian
Moby
beth fwoah dream Mar 2020
ah ha hari

the clouds always dream
ananananee

the sun always rises in the morning




lola was egypt ray drew was her son

lola say boohoohoo
cry for your suns

(originally we are the stars

pamama

we want the sun forever

her husband lives as tray

in egypt they say
ananananah
the moon always rise

the sky is always perfect
ananeee

the stars always shine at night
anananmee

porta the zulu leader and da except lola

lola say lalala to da

hataab is here the anne christ christ protector

helios is here the sun god

meghansaid

timanee
i am god
meghan said

meghan ssaid

wawawa

people are always kind

but lola is preferred in africa

she ruled their 30 times
meghan only 3
kirk Mar 2019
There are people in this world, and I don't mean to preach
I am exercising my rights, and my freedom of speech
Opinions will be expressed, but there's not much I can teach
Except these people drain the land, all ******* like a leach

If your a copper lover, and you like the boys in blue
Politics may float your boat, perhaps you don't have a clue
Royalists could take offence, you know what you should do
a WARNING from this moment on, I wouldn't read if I we're you

Just forget about crap brexit, it's the British who will pay
Who cares about a ******* deal, or if we go or stay
We never had no interest, with that ***** Theresa May
Her cabinet is full of ****, but they've always been that way

We don't need any governors, trying to take our land
Or politicians trying to rule, with their unruly hand
A state for every president, all thinking they are grand
And local law enforcement, I can not ******* stand

All people in authority, treat the rest of us like flops
The civil servants are not civil, nor are the ******* cops
Their issued with a uniform, and believe they are the tops
Illegal **** and seized drugs, are shared in bent cop shops

You could get a thrashing, locked behind that steel cell door
Or mowed down in a pursuit, or beaten to the floor
They get away with ******, and a hell of a lot more
In case you did not realise, Police have immunity from the law

Never mind Ladies and lords, in a world of pure desire
The deception of constabulary's, and the monarchy's a liar
They all adopt god statuses, it could be even higher
Escort them to the Wicker Man, sacrifice them in the fire

The Governments they ruin lives, their footsteps where dirt soils
Our leaders are unscrupulous, every country's left in spoils
Prime minister's winding up the world, in continuous loops and coils
The queen should go and **** herself, along with all the royals

A horses **** springs to mind, as well as ugly trolls
When I see that Prince Philip, and Camilla Parker Bowles
Charlie boy well what a ****, dragging Diana through the coals
Their the spongers of the state, all living of our tolls

Just take a look at palaces, and look at where we dwell
We're treated like we're second rate, and we all ****** smell
They stick their noses in the air, and you can always tell
That we're seen as the common folk, and we can go to hell

When seen in the public eye, you know they are looking down
They're no better then anyone else, underneath their royal gown
Why are they put on pedestals, and made jewels of the crown
And live in places that could house, half an ******* town

Who cares about false visits, who cares where they have been
Their only trying to look good, their not really all that keen
Flood victims and tsunamis, well they just want to be seen
We don't want the tossers sympathy, and ******* to the queen

Isn't she just too **** old, she should be abdicating
The rest of them can *******, their all so aggravating
Higher aches no one needs, because they are segregating
We're categorised into a class, and there is no negotiating

Disband the current monarchs, because they are out of season
The Tudors should've been the place, to put a royal freeze on
Why are they the privileged ones, there isn't a good reason
They are all above the law, and maybe that's high treason

All successors to the throne, they never had a spine
I'd rather be a *******, now the crown has lost it's shine
When there's marriage on the table, their not likely to decline
Has Meghan Markle ever been, The Bride of Frankenstein ?

I knew you were an actress, take a look at yourself now
You are like Kate Middleton, your just another royal sow
Is William a pig ******, he's reared three swine's but how?
Perhaps Harry's had a bit of  Kate, and bred that stupid cow

Because a prince just came along, and it was you they plucked
Was it the thought of royalty, when in you were then ******
Does aristocracy have its folds, are they all neatly tucked
The only job you have now, is lay down and get ******

Can I make one suggestion, now please don't take offence
You don't have to reproduce, with these two smarmy gents
Do you feel obligated, to mix in with their scents?
Or because you're now a royal, you have free tax and rents

Never mind the cushy jobs, when your in the special forces
Send William to the front line, after his training and courses
Why should our country pay, for all their false endorses
Is Margaret part of their clan, or one of the sad horses

The Duke of Edinburgh's award, why didn't he just pass
Sarah Ferguson was a commoner, and from a different class
Did Andrew like her freckles, did they extend down to her ***
She wasn't all that bothered, once behind the palace glass

Celebrities tolerate her majesty, they must have some endurance
Those poor ******* on that show, the Royal Variety Performance
Britain's Got Talent has it's winners, I hope they have insurance  
They're there for the prize money, not for the royals assurance

A variety of royalty, but there not all that enticing
So many bent police officers, who take small cuts from slicing
We don't want dodgy minister's, collecting and over pricing
It's a constabulary of governments with too much royal icing
Fenix Flight May 2014
I've got my very own Puck and Ash
I am their Meghan chase

Jose
Puck
A trickster
that takes
nothing too
seriously
a smirk
every present
a joke
always being told


But behind that smile
behind that joke
there is just a boy
wanting to love his princess
but never able to

Matt
Ash
Silent and brooding
as cold as ice
hide behind your walls
a dark knight
in a world so bright
Bound by Honor
and ever
the gentleman

But behind the walls
behind the darkness
there is just boy
Loving a princess
Who loves him back

Nicole
Meghan
Stuck in her mortal world
best friend
who will always be in her heart
who loves him
But not the way he wants
who danced with darkness
with no fear
and fell head over heels


Whose best friend
and love of her life
hate each other
with feirce passion
her dark Knight vowing
to end the others  life

Uneasy Truce
Draw up between them
The dark prince
and the Trickster
Just to keep their
princess happy.
Based of the books The IRON FEY. (What can I say my sister got me hooked '**** you summer')
Liv Feb 2014
i miss this little girl
with colors in her heart
and fire in her veins
who sang songs about the sunshine
and soaked up all the rain
L W D Jan 2016
It was nice being
Seventeen
And still with
You.

Sitting in millennium park,
Tying knots bound by grass,
And kissing your lips

I remember holding your hand
And not caring
I was in
public.

Now I can't talk to a girl
Without feeling
Alone.
anthony Brady May 2019
The secret’s out – Hip! Hip! Horray!
Meghan Markle has had her way:
no papparazzi just a note to state..
..gold framed upon the palace gate..
a baby born to her and Prince Harry.

It was a very private affair - narry
a Home Secretary  was there to see
the birth - a custom ended by decree:
though historically meant as inclusion
t’was deemed at last a male intrusion.

Now in an age where all is bi-
ethnic black and white tie
parently neat and true
with the royal blood line’s
red, white,  and blue.

By George! To Will and Kate
in poetry  - I must relate
there is no comparison
other than that word
rhymes with Harrison.

Hey. Nonny. Nay.
Alack a day -
I must away,
for this verse done and said
I could withall lose my head.

Tobias
Meghan Gibbs Jun 2012
Edit
I will not ring the bell!
by Meghan RakChazak Gibbs on Wednesday, 17 August 2011 at 12:10 ·

It's not to late,

I will not ring the bell!

God, I give you my all,

I will not ring the bell!

I have not given into temptation,

I will not ring the bell!

Teaching has fallen on deaf ears,

I will not ring the bell!

My God has not forsaken me,

I will not ring the bell!

The Lord has given me strength,

I will not ring the bell!

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will not ring the bell!

Though the cords of death entangle me,

I will not ring the bell!

Though the anguish of the grave came upon me,

I will not ring the bell!

In the time to die and to weep,

I will not ring the bell!

When I feel alone, lost and confused,

I will not ring the bell!

I will not ring the bell!

I WILL NOT RING THE BELL!!!!!!
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2023
it's not like i was away from society,
sure, i crawled into my room and stockpiled on books,
the Tibetan Book of the Dead was never something
i was going to finish reading and find translatable
insights to compliment...
but there were plenty of books...
enough newspapers too... all the culture sections
written by critics: just today i was reading
up on two reviews in the culture section of
yesterday's the Sunday Times:
  poetry reviews! wow! wow! poetry is being
criticised in a mainstream media publication: still?
isn't poetry dead? last time i heard
TS Eliot killed poetry...
    well: if anything needs a killing -
i imagine trying to **** a dead person...
**** a dead person by mime?
**** a corpse by propping him in a chair...
talking to him, it, her,
pouring her, it, him a glass of whiskey...
dealing cards to them?
pretending the dead thing is somehow still
a body and all the mechanisation process of SIGMA
we dare to call soul or a seal of falling leaves or self?

horrors of the novel and all things
flashy and pop... i could if not for the autobiographical
drip drip drip...
   today i stood in the kitchen and imagined
myself: the demon cook of hell...
tomorrow i'll be making a Turkish dish
of finely cut beef... rosemary (oddly more complimentary
of beef than lamb), chillies, garlic,
sumac, pepper... cheese... white wine vinegar
to cure the meat...
                        black pepper... salt...
eaten with LAVASH...
                                          gorge of all gorges of
the thirst -
      but i will also be making two curries for the day
after tomorrow... to give myself more time for:
more time...

i went away from society: but didn't...
society tried to cement my ear into a lunatic asylum:
how i wished i made it among the madmen,
truly... how i wished i was at one point sectioned:
i tried my luck, i tried and tried but failed...
i never was... pop pill X white as nerves
and the bleaching of aluminium -
   pop pill Y... no result... the desired result...
the world span forward and still the same world
i returned to... although with quaked psyches
reaching out for hands instead of receiving
pointing fingers... exclude you: exclude i and you:
you-not-you i-not-i: or even:
i as "i" and you as "you"...
                    
in this kitchen: this, not this: any kitchen...
what was playing in the background? a spin on vampirism,
a blood-disease romance...
i thought about: if i wrote a YA novel about
vampires in the decadent period of the 1980s
with the height of the AIDS epidemic?
imagine: i "said" to myself...
    imagine vampires with AIDS... i started to imagine
vampires suffering from AIDS...
    not the sort of pristine vampires that needed
virgins or children to survive...
just a wild-thought: an unnecessary thought...
i'd be better off thinking of windmills...
    like that one coming up to Upminster from
Hornchurch...
               because this book, will never be written by
me... but a theme exists...
vampirism at the height of the AIDS pandemic...
vampires with AIDS...
             the homosexuality of vampires is yet
to be explored... seems these creatures might want
to exchange blood, spit and *****...
perhaps vampires would be immune to AIDS...
but then again: that's irrelevant since there's a cure
for ***: the virus that designated the past-"redemption"
state of AIDS...
or at least: this is what i "think" i "know":
point being - i don't care to know...
                              
the following rubric also came up...
on the topic of gravity...
swimming - ∇ (you find gravity in the top part
of your body... in the torso)...
the feet are slackers... they come in for the swim...
cycling - (again) ∇ nabla schematic...
your torso actually manages the coordination
of the body on the bicycle...
your feet do all the work... peddling...
but your upper body needs to coordinate
the centre point of gravity being: you're not falling...
you're not falling when either swimming
or cycling...
you're not falling when walking...
you're not falling when climbing, rock or tree...
∇... the legs are only there for the "ride"...

but? ice-skating... it should be the same!
it should be a ∇-schematic...
but is it?! is it?!
hardly some darkened mysterious, poetic O...
oh god... not another of those O O's...
like O is ****** or O is orbit
or O is eye or: whatever happened in Ur
and why not Oor for up-sigh-alone
   is not different to oh-mega-n: oh Meghan?
not a name in the tabloids... just
a coincidence, a little coincidence...

i can't be blamed for underachieving in the second
wave of literacy: basic example i can give:
frightoffreedom = "FRIGHTOFFREEDOM"
print(f"{frightoffreedom.lower()}")
who write so complicated but still performs
magic in 2D and can't translate 2D into 3D?
did every child start speaking said, any said
language to an unsaid capacity of a Buddha's
silence? gate-keepers some say,
a new literacy i say: i too could learn if
there was someone willing to teach...
but as the first pigs to the trough...
first learners come first and the rest "struggle"...
that's me sorting out the basics of ever used
EXCEL twice, properly...
HTML building blocks once...
sorting out my father's change of accountant:
three years prior to his retirement:
quick-books confuses everyday tax-payers
except for the intended audience of accountants...
but... how happy i was... filling out the rubrics
finding math fun without doing any math...
my new favourite expressions
are =SUM(D3:D34)
   that's for the total of money spent...
next column... =(D3*1.2)
   that's the rubric for the Netto (without VAT)
slide the mouse down from D3 through to D34...
next column the VAT (Brutto)..
    =(D3-E3)
             ergo... the VAT in cell F3... scroll down
to F34... then at F35 type in:
    =SUM(F3:24)...

                   modern poets are yet to have discovered
or used the internet or computers...
Poet-Luddite... conflated language:
i want to forget outside of the immediacy of having to
know an elephant is an elephant and
there are five blind men trying to tell apart
a chair from a table...
                 perhaps seeing each item represented
by a cubist painting would leave them
the same blind men if they were only given
a snippet of sight to tell a chair from table apart...

conkers left on windowsill and other locations
in the household allow you to spend the winter
months: freed from feeling spiders...
spiders apparently abhor the scent of oak seeds:
i've been huddling in my winter abode
freed from spider bites... in winter...
when spiders morph into mosquitos and draw
blood from mammalian flesh...

- i can't believe it though! it was so easy!
but... it had to take a lesbian to ask me out on a date!
it took me from the age of 21 through
to the age of teasing 37, done so casually...
hey: do you want to go ice-skating with me
after the shift is over? sure! why not!
today i paid for it... however many hours
i spent cycling, today i felt muscles i never thought
i had... but it took a lesbian to ask me on a date...
a coworker mingling scenario...
we worked the shift, we went ice-skating...
she filmed me trying my best not to fall over...
her laughter, or rather, her giggling reminded
me of Ilona... that masculine-feminine aura
of self-assurance...
i'm not attracted to these women:
they just seem to be attracted to me...
tattoos, piercings, bully-boy butch-Toms...
standing a proud 5ft4 eyeing up a 6ft2 example
trying to kick punch and kiss all at the same time...
well... it was so easy, so much fun...

it should follow that finding the centre of gravity
within the confines of ice skating
should be the same as that of finding the centre
of gravity while swimming or cycling...
i.e. ∇... that's the schematic...
upper-body: the torso is giving prime psychological
concerns... the legs are secondary...
but no... it's counter-intuitively: "intuitive"...
you can't exactly begin finding gravity while
either swimming or cycling by flapping your
arms about pretending to learn to fly:
but you do! you do!

            a drowning man is flapping his arms about
but his legs... his legs...
i'm starting to think i'm getting this theory all wrong...
swimming = cycling = ice skating = ∇...
i kept looking at my legs
pretending to walk while simultaneously trying to glide...

Δ schematic insinuates: don't look at your legs...
no one who walks upright looks down
asking the legs to do the walking...
one looks down to resemble a humbling
expression of grace: thank you: mechanisms of
what binds water to a tide and the mountain
to itch for rising above the setting sun...
thank you...
no one looks at one's legs insinuating:
you're not performing my unconscious demands
of moving from X to Y...
but on ice? ice skating...
it's a fake schematic... ice skating is truly like
swimming and cycling...
next time? my 3rd time on the ice? i will have to let go...
i will have to fall the nth number of times...
what's scary is generating a momentum
so easily without any obstacles of a hill
of grit of grind...
     it's a bit like: people exercising in the gym...
performance art... they can lift weights as a spectacle...
they can create a sexed-up physique, body-shape...
but throw the same people into a manual-labour
environment: with the drudgery of manual labour...
the bulkiest of them will stumble...
tell them to lift, perform "art work" on a roll of
      felt in the roofing industry...
lifting weights is an abstract compared to actual
physical labour...

still... aged 36 and the first "date": it wasn't a date...
was with a female who just so happened to be a lesbian...
what sort of heterosexual woman would go on
a date with me so simple... she asked to go ice-skating
i would have asked: want to go cycling with me?
want to go to an art gallery with me?
was there any talk about what job i have?
was there any talk about what living arrangements
i'm living "under": more like over given
the current climate of renting in London:
12 months upfront rent?!
             of course i still live with my parents...
i clean the house, i cook, i sort out my father's invoices...
i do the VAT for the accountant,
i tend to the garden...
                              i pay "rent"... well...
thankfully i didn't have hopes to get married...
so... my parents didn't have to fork out from their savings
for some grand fakery parade of ceremonial pomp
of ****** white: bride to be...
easier with the prostitutes in the brothel...
but i figured: if the the 8 year old me figured out
how to ******* before he could produce *****
he could also have an inkling into the current debacle
of men who *******: like that was ever a hindering
"problem": because women are all pristine
because they rarely talk about it:
cipher: Madame Bovary...

         two bad experiences having *** in one brothel
and i'm thinking about curing my ills seeking out
another brothel... but it's winter and my libido is
obviously not up to scratch...
so? three times daily... jerking off to the point
where i: i don't have to actually enjoy it...
no movies... just pictures... cleavage... ***...
eyes... mostly eyes...
                           bacon, butcher, bacon,
tenderising meat, curing meat with acids...
spices... herbs...
                 the more i do it the less i think of it...
worried about communal hot topics about loss
of testosterone?
                   i have hair on my chest
my stomach, my back and on my chin...
                  blah blah some parrot said...
seagulls dived in for a *******... the Kraken yawned...
Norse mythologies crept up on dying Christianity
and all was well... meadows covered by frost come
late January somewhere in the open green patches
of Edinburgh...

                - the labour and the pains of the crucified-foetus....
some say it's like waking into a world
where women perform the splinter-membrane
argument of what's living and what's not...
how ancient male mammals performed infanticide...
yet how chemistry and the abstract allowed
a new-mammalian-wave of female infanticide:
because: early birds in the dynamic of ***
made their first falls the fault in the opposite ***...
while some of us waited and waited and
by waiting became freed from ugly brides
and social expectation: Darwinism's pressures
to procreate...

i can't listen to both Darwinism and Buddhism
at the same time: i simply can't knife through
to the fork to subsequently spoon up and gulp down
this sort of duality...
like i can't stomach the dualism: if there is one
of consolidating the aesthetic with the ascetic...
i can't consolidate the AESTHETIC with the ASCETIC!
Christianity did just that! Christianity
married the AESTHETIC with the ASCETIC"

— The End —