"mothertongue" poems
*We were squeezed from corruption
armed with the monstrous cutlery
of rippers and tearers of rationed meat
for a day, for a day, for a day:
the butcher gives his best cuts
to the young and godless divorcee
find us, keep us : a spectre hiding
in the dark pig iron rust hooks looping
through your *** and shopping lists:
smelting your coin
and punching your face
Company is the full knowledge
of our protracted, 3 -stage decay
burn drift degradation
eyes crusting shut
in doom and settling bomb silt
palms up, taking a punishment
in the mothertongue
ignoring lessons in the gracious
expectancy of departure
We, A legion of ancient clockwatchers,
in on the joke of time
and folk fetish of apple-cheek poverty
[Gasp!] The gruesome romance of class!
!you cry! !safe! !always safe!
in the nuclear hotdog option , which is
observably, the title of this advertisement
We will never get you[ ]you're awake!
and your atmosphere is still In Da Black
We watch you
watching
the 5 car pile up
catch up rolling down your chin*
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC
if you won't learn a second tongue, that's foreign to you, like, let's say french, or spanish... don't expect me to "integrate" into your society, and leave my mothertongue in a ditch, in the gutter, in a forgetfullness... i'm keeping mine, and you'll have to cut my tongue off, to make me forget it!
why? what's the main reason? the r! the R!
the trill!
well... i have another name for the so-called trill...
great oral ***
for one...
but in my gob... that letter equates to
a rattlesnake... the english took the ketamine-numbing
approach to the R... the french? they, they...
they just ******* hark it out... ha ha... as if they were clearing
their throats from too many cigarettes the previous day...
my R is a rattlesnake...
so, once more... oh, i learn your language, i'll even
beat you at it... given my current expression...
but forget my mothertongue, and not have the odd sing-along to a song
in my native (tongue)? forget it...
you numbed the R... you're almost swallowing your tongue
when expressing it...
where's your serpent regarding
the letter? oh... an anaconda... quasi-bear-like hibernation
after eating some animal in one gulp...
where is the snake's **** by the way?
do they have one?
i'd love to see a snake take a ****
but that's like: a month's, if not half a year's worth of "indigestion".
n'ah... i'll integrate, for sure, i'll use the tongue,
but not using the native? forget it!
you learn a second tongue! we have to meet halfway, after all.
i feel sorry for R in the hands of the french, or the english...
the former are harking it... the latter are numbing it...
me? thankfully using it like a rattlesnake.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
I find myself stopping in a crowd of people and time slows still. Their laughter, their unpredictable movements, the fights and the resolutions and the bonding of brothers--all quiet. I am left in the fabric of things to wonder at the tapestry we call a culture.
How am I to know what is proper when all have their own true mothertongue? Who can teach me what to say when all I know is jumbled and disheveled based on who I've been and what I know?
I leave behind a southern legacy of liturgy and doctrine that outlines exactly what is human and exactly what is not. I step into a society that constantly years to fill a void--please Lord, find us someone who knows the Truth.
Their apathy and nonchalance is false; bravado is left wanting. I know they they all cry out for connection and seek it in flesh rather than spirit. I am caught in the midst of the pursuit of happiness and the quest for morality. I know not what brings joy to humanity, I hike towards that river and hope it is not run dry like all others.
In the study of psychology, I have found so many places where words fall short and the great carnal animal within all of us takes precedence, demands attention, seeking comfort in a world that often overlooks those that need it the most.
Love is a fragile, timid thing that is most often hard to find and difficult to voice. Instead, we lash out in aggression to hide that inner child that needs a tried and true comfort of a known embrace. We seek forgiveness and express it in anger, manipulation, meeting our needs however possible because this is America, after all.
This is all we want in our sequestered human heart, the beginning of redemption.
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 6:58 PM UTC
how about... the irish and the scots re-learn gaelic... and the welsh upkeep their pseudo-germanic style of spelling, of what i might call indigestion, or in english: names of chemical compounds in shampoo?
there's a limit to assimilating into a foreign
country...
sure... i'll learn the language,
i'll even speak it better than the natives...
but when it comes to my mutterzunge,
(mothertongue), and my private life,
in my own home?
like **** you're going to force me
to forget the language i was born in...
only asians in england, can be so "humbled",
or rather tricked, or coerced,
just so they think they're somehow
superior... which becomes a complex,
and then they start feeding themselves
this ******** nostalgia, for a "golden age"
of the caliphate;
to me? just ****** parenting,
that avoided the stresses of embracing bilingualism,
and, thus, embracing a fluidity of
a merchant class... instead we have these
parasite bourgeoisie... who feel either self-entitled...
or victims.
like **** am i going to give my native tongue up!
i'll speak yours... but you're not
going to plant c.c.t.v. in my home to make
me forget my native heimatsprechen;
like the idea that these, so called "citizens" have
the right to school me? even the queen wouldn't
aspire to such vermin level of politics.
bo? gówno; życie! na kurwanędzą!
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
When i think of my mothertongue,
I feel this...
"Hind" word of urdu
India's widely spoken language
Nationalism's proud
Derived from sanskrit
It's the first letter of each line
H I N D I
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC