"morden" poems - Hello Poetry

Look at all those monkeys Jumping in their cage. Why don't they all go out to work And earn a decent wage? How can you say such silly things, And you a son of mine? Imagine monkeys travelling on The Morden-Edgware line! But what about the Pekinese! They have an allocation. 'Don't travel during Peke hour', It says on every station. My Gosh, you're right, my clever boy, I never thought of that! And so they left the monkey house, While an elephant raised his hat.

0

4k

Spike Milligan

Look at all those monkeys

Look at all those monkeys Jumping in their cage. Why don't they all go out to work And earn a decent wage? How can you say such silly things, And you a son of mine? Imagine monkeys travelling on The Morden-Edgware line! But what about the Pekinese! They have an allocation. 'Don't travel during Peke hour', It says on every station. My Gosh, you're right, my clever boy, I never thought of that! And so they left the monkey house, While an elephant raised his hat.

16

megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all. Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall. Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation. Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic. The magic that is the ear bud to your ears. The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers. We heal with metaphors. When the pain comes again it won't be like before. The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure. It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop. One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough. As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes. Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores. With words, the mind and soul resasitation. Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation. Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition. For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre. Poetry is alive in us. Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch. Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew (personified by poetic devices)

0

Nov 29, 2018

Nov 29, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC

megacreative-poetry-crew

Poem entitled "Megacreative Poetry Crew" by Phozi Poetic Skinny Bae ( Pholohana Sello Vincent )

megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all. Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall. Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation. Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic. The magic that is the ear bud to your ears. The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers. We heal with metaphors. When the pain comes again it won't be like before. The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure. It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop. One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough. As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes. Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores. With words, the mind and soul resasitation. Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation. Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition. For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre. Poetry is alive in us. Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch. Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew (personified by poetic devices)

20

I want my body to be post-morden art I want my actions to be guerilla theatre I want all my words to be poerty I want my reality to be surreal I want my mouth to be a ampilfer for my heart. I want to be a teacher I want the world to know every part of me I want you to know how i feel.

0

Oct 9, 2014

Oct 9, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC

brandon-reid-swaim

I Want

I want my body to be post-morden art I want my actions to be guerilla theatre I want all my words to be poerty I want my reality to be surreal I want my mouth to be a ampilfer for my heart. I want to be a teacher I want the world to know every part of me I want you to know how i feel.

8

first of all i unblock the reading block. then i unblock the writers block, that i feel heavy in my chest the rest is the monk in me exposed to write dailies on all sorts of matters. this aspiration i am declaring will be re-written by monks hand i can feel flow of the monk, like Geoffry Chaucer reincarnated modern day Canterbury Tales, i will write on my poetry pilgrimage . i am an aspiring poetry monk i foresee a poetry monk, who will invent and reinvent words for poetic stories to be told infinitely like numbers.

0

Dec 14, 2015

Dec 14, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC

givemore-manyengawana

Morden day Poetry Monk

first of all i unblock the reading block. then i unblock the writers block, that i feel heavy in my chest the rest is the monk in me exposed to write dailies on all sorts of matters. this aspiration i am declaring will be re-written by monks hand i can feel flow of the monk, like Geoffry Chaucer reincarnated modern day Canterbury Tales, i will write on my poetry pilgrimage . i am an aspiring poetry monk i foresee a poetry monk, who will invent and reinvent words for poetic stories to be told infinitely like numbers.

16

Society crumples me up, tosses me into the gutter, tearing through my fragile lines of imperfection. Bruised. Bent. Bleeding easily. I feel every movement of your hand when you drag words across my skin words heavy with sorrow, sharp with anger, inked with pain. Every sentence you carve into me leaves a scar. I feel the weight of your frustration, the bitterness of your voice pressed into my surface. But tell me… why must you hurt me? Am I not worthy of gentle hands? Can I not be treated like something living, something breathing? Can I not exist in this modern world with dignity just because I am made of paper? And though you wrinkle me, though you tear me apart and cast me aside remember this: Even paper has the power to carry truth, to hold stories, to preserve voices long after the ones who wrote them have faded away. So be careful how you treat me because even something fragile can hold something powerful. ✍🏽

0

Jun 21, 2015

Jun 21, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC

siphelele-mbatha

im made out of paper

Society crumples me up, tosses me into the gutter, tearing through my fragile lines of imperfection. Bruised. Bent. Bleeding easily. I feel every movement of your hand when you drag words across my skin words heavy with sorrow, sharp with anger, inked with pain. Every sentence you carve into me leaves a scar. I feel the weight of your frustration, the bitterness of your voice pressed into my surface. But tell me… why must you hurt me? Am I not worthy of gentle hands? Can I not be treated like something living, something breathing? Can I not exist in this modern world with dignity just because I am made of paper? And though you wrinkle me, though you tear me apart and cast me aside remember this: Even paper has the power to carry truth, to hold stories, to preserve voices long after the ones who wrote them have faded away. So be careful how you treat me because even something fragile can hold something powerful. ✍🏽

45

megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all. Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall. Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation. Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic. The magic that is the ear bud to your ears. The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers. We heal with metaphors. When the pain comes again it won't be like before. The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure. It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop. One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough. As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes. Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores. With words, the mind and soul resasitation. Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation. Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition. For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre. Poetry is alive in us. Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch. Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew (personified by poetic devices)

0

Nov 29, 2018

Nov 29, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC

megacreative-poetry-crew

Megacreative Poetry Crew by Phozi Poetic Skinny Bae himself ( Pholohana Sello Vincent )

megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all. Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall. Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation. Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic. The magic that is the ear bud to your ears. The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers. We heal with metaphors. When the pain comes again it won't be like before. The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure. It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop. One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough. As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes. Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores. With words, the mind and soul resasitation. Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation. Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition. For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre. Poetry is alive in us. Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch. Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew (personified by poetic devices)

20

Let me cry So I can feel human Let me cry let me scream let me get angry What a lie 9 to 9 like I got no soul Call it work But you're nothing but a foolish **** 9 am to 12 am like I got no soul They tell you keep it professional How can I when its 24/7 Are you God and my work is taking me to heaven ? Cause I don't do that much for God himself You expect me to do it for living in constant hell ? Have I lost all meaning if I dont "work hard" Work till my bones scar With all the natural toxic outcomes that I've been shoving inside To keep it professional 24/7 Tell me are you the one taking me to heaven Work hard to make it Make it till more people know you while you fake it Shove down this so called human Emotions, true connections Are you delusional ? Make you more money while I take the 0.00000000000000000000000001% To stay alive and work harder to make it Make it till I take the 100% And pay it on the few minutes I am free Pay it on therapy On all the scars it has caused to me Imposed on me since birth To be more this or that I cant even finish this poem cause Im sleepy Exhaused to the bone its getting creepy 9 to 9, am I alive ? Cause its seems Im only that when Im crying for what I should strive I have no words to express no more Theyve been exhaused on being your money ***** Make it work Make them the money Make it work Stop acting funny For 1 min For 2 mins But you need to work till you finish Your life Is not yours for living. Morden time slavery.

0

Apr 3, 2018

Apr 3, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC

lina-s

Slavery

Let me cry So I can feel human Let me cry let me scream let me get angry What a lie 9 to 9 like I got no soul Call it work But you're nothing but a foolish **** 9 am to 12 am like I got no soul They tell you keep it professional How can I when its 24/7 Are you God and my work is taking me to heaven ? Cause I don't do that much for God himself You expect me to do it for living in constant hell ? Have I lost all meaning if I dont "work hard" Work till my bones scar With all the natural toxic outcomes that I've been shoving inside To keep it professional 24/7 Tell me are you the one taking me to heaven Work hard to make it Make it till more people know you while you fake it Shove down this so called human Emotions, true connections Are you delusional ? Make you more money while I take the 0.00000000000000000000000001% To stay alive and work harder to make it Make it till I take the 100% And pay it on the few minutes I am free Pay it on therapy On all the scars it has caused to me Imposed on me since birth To be more this or that I cant even finish this poem cause Im sleepy Exhaused to the bone its getting creepy 9 to 9, am I alive ? Cause its seems Im only that when Im crying for what I should strive I have no words to express no more Theyve been exhaused on being your money ***** Make it work Make them the money Make it work Stop acting funny For 1 min For 2 mins But you need to work till you finish Your life Is not yours for living. Morden time slavery.

48