Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
1SP Dec 2017
Mwen te fèt nan mond sa,
Mond lan nan peche ak dezespwa,
Tankou lòt moun...
Mwen te mache yon chemen nan pèsyade.

Mwen te fèt nan mond sa,
Yon mond nan peche san lafwa,
Tankou lòt moun...
Mwen sote nan lanmè a nan trayizon segondè.

Men avèk favè Bondye,
Mèsi pou Bondye pitye,
Mwen gen yon nouvo lavi
Epi mwen vle pataje levanjil la.

Mwen te fèt nan mond sa,
Mond lan nan peche san paswa,
Tankou lòt moun...
Mwen te monte ti mòn lan nan tout dèt.

Mwen te fèt nan mond sa,
Yon mond nan peche ak tout jwa
Tankou lòt moun...
Mwen te kouche nan kabann lan avèk laperèz.

Men avèk favè Bondye,
Mèsi pou Bondye pitye,
Mwen gen yon nouvo lavi
Epi mwen vle pataje levanjil la.

Mwen konnen kounye a sa...
Gen jijman,
Gen kòmandman
Gen volonte Bondye,
Epi gen favè Bondye.

Pa gen okenn kriye ankò,
Pa gen okenn lensomni ankò,
Gen Bondye pitye sèlman
Se yon privilèj pou gen favè vrèman.

Favè Bondye.
My First Christian Piece written in Haitian Creole. #MinistriesBeyondMissions
I

What new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
        a new thing under the Sun?
At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,
        Scientific theme
First penned unmindful by Doctor Seaborg with poison-
        ous hand, named for Death's planet through the
        sea beyond Uranus
whose chthonic ore fathers this magma-teared Lord of
        Hades, Sire of avenging Furies, billionaire Hell-
        King worshipped once
with black sheep throats cut, priests's face averted from
        underground mysteries in single temple at Eleusis,
Spring-green Persephone nuptialed to his inevitable
        Shade, Demeter mother of asphodel weeping dew,
her daughter stored in salty caverns under white snow,
        black hail, grey winter rain or Polar ice, immemor-
        able seasons before
Fish flew in Heaven, before a Ram died by the starry
        bush, before the Bull stamped sky and earth
or Twins inscribed their memories in clay or Crab'd
        flood
washed memory from the skull, or Lion sniffed the
        lilac breeze in Eden--
Before the Great Year began turning its twelve signs,
        ere constellations wheeled for twenty-four thousand
        sunny years
slowly round their axis in Sagittarius, one hundred
        sixty-seven thousand times returning to this night

Radioactive Nemesis were you there at the beginning
        black dumb tongueless unsmelling blast of Disil-
        lusion?
I manifest your Baptismal Word after four billion years
I guess your birthday in Earthling Night, I salute your
        dreadful presence last majestic as the Gods,
Sabaot, Jehova, Astapheus, Adonaeus, Elohim, Iao,
        Ialdabaoth, Aeon from Aeon born ignorant in an
        Abyss of Light,
Sophia's reflections glittering thoughtful galaxies, whirl-
        pools of starspume silver-thin as hairs of Einstein!
Father Whitman I celebrate a matter that renders Self
        oblivion!
Grand Subject that annihilates inky hands & pages'
        prayers, old orators' inspired Immortalities,
I begin your chant, openmouthed exhaling into spacious
        sky over silent mills at Hanford, Savannah River,
        Rocky Flats, Pantex, Burlington, Albuquerque
I yell thru Washington, South Carolina, Colorado,
        Texas, Iowa, New Mexico,
Where nuclear reactors creat a new Thing under the
        Sun, where Rockwell war-plants fabricate this death
        stuff trigger in nitrogen baths,
Hanger-Silas Mason assembles the terrified weapon
        secret by ten thousands, & where Manzano Moun-
        tain boasts to store
its dreadful decay through two hundred forty millenia
        while our Galaxy spirals around its nebulous core.
I enter your secret places with my mind, I speak with
        your presence, I roar your Lion Roar with mortal
        mouth.
One microgram inspired to one lung, ten pounds of
        heavy metal dust adrift slow motion over grey
        Alps
the breadth of the planet, how long before your radiance
        speeds blight and death to sentient beings?
Enter my body or not I carol my spirit inside you,
        Unnaproachable Weight,
O heavy heavy Element awakened I vocalize your con-
        sciousness to six worlds
I chant your absolute Vanity.  Yeah monster of Anger
        birthed in fear O most
Ignorant matter ever created unnatural to Earth! Delusion
        of metal empires!
Destroyer of lying Scientists! Devourer of covetous
        Generals, Incinerator of Armies & Melter of Wars!
Judgement of judgements, Divine Wind over vengeful
        nations, Molester of Presidents, Death-Scandal of
        Capital politics! Ah civilizations stupidly indus-
        trious!
Canker-Hex on multitudes learned or illiterate! Manu-
        factured Spectre of human reason! O solidified
        imago of practicioner in Black Arts
I dare your reality, I challenge your very being! I
        publish your cause and effect!
I turn the wheel of Mind on your three hundred tons!
        Your name enters mankind's ear! I embody your
        ultimate powers!
My oratory advances on your vaunted Mystery! This
        breath dispels your braggart fears! I sing your
        form at last
behind your concrete & iron walls inside your fortress
        of rubber & translucent silicon shields in filtered
        cabinets and baths of lathe oil,
My voice resounds through robot glove boxes & ignot
        cans and echoes in electric vaults inert of atmo-
        sphere,
I enter with spirit out loud into your fuel rod drums
        underground on soundless thrones and beds of
        lead
O density! This weightless anthem trumpets transcendent
        through hidden chambers and breaks through
        iron doors into the Infernal Room!
Over your dreadful vibration this measured harmony        
        floats audible, these jubilant tones are honey and
        milk and wine-sweet water
Poured on the stone black floor, these syllables are
        barley groats I scatter on the Reactor's core,
I call your name with hollow vowels, I psalm your Fate
        close by, my breath near deathless ever at your
        side
to Spell your destiny, I set this verse prophetic on your
        mausoleum walls to seal you up Eternally with
        Diamond Truth!  O doomed Plutonium.

                        II

The Bar surveys Plutonian history from midnight
        lit with Mercury Vapor streetlamps till in dawn's
        early light
he contemplates a tranquil politic spaced out between
        Nations' thought-forms proliferating bureaucratic
& horrific arm'd, Satanic industries projected sudden
        with Five Hundred Billion Dollar Strength
around the world same time this text is set in Boulder,
        Colorado before front range of Rocky Mountains
twelve miles north of Rocky Flats Nuclear Facility in
        United States of North America, Western Hemi-
        sphere
of planet Earth six months and fourteen days around
        our Solar System in a Spiral Galaxy
the local year after Dominion of the last God nineteen
        hundred seventy eight
Completed as yellow hazed dawn clouds brighten East,
        Denver city white below
Blue sky transparent rising empty deep & spacious to a
        morning star high over the balcony
above some autos sat with wheels to curb downhill
        from Flatiron's jagged pine ridge,
sunlit mountain meadows sloped to rust-red sandstone
        cliffs above brick townhouse roofs
as sparrows waked whistling through Marine Street's
        summer green leafed trees.

                        III
                        
This ode to you O Poets and Orators to come, you
        father Whitman as I join your side, you Congress
        and American people,
you present meditators, spiritual friends & teachers,
        you O Master of the Diamond Arts,
Take this wheel of syllables in hand, these vowels and
        consonants to breath's end
take this inhalation of black poison to your heart, breath
        out this blessing from your breast on our creation
forests cities oceans deserts rocky flats and mountains
        in the Ten Directions pacify with exhalation,
enrich this Plutonian Ode to explode its empty thunder
        through earthen thought-worlds
Magnetize this howl with heartless compassion, destroy
        this mountain of Plutonium with ordinary mind
        and body speech,
thus empower this Mind-guard spirit gone out, gone
        out, gone beyond, gone beyond me, Wake space,
        so Ah!
        
                                        July 14, 1978
I thought                                         you'd left us, long ago
desolate on a swing
                       rocking stale, dry grass and still air
                      
                      crossing
never quite                  the hurdle

                                                               ­                                                    lost

unaware
sweating youth in this humidity

I thought we'd never make it past the
rusty red and brown of weathered fences

                            like
              felt                        moun
   They                                  
                                                     tains

                                                               ­   Made of dirt
                                                                ­                       (guilt)
and an endless turmoiling scent, still fresh



I thought you'd forlorned us                  
h     e     a     v    y       r  a  i  n   and warm bodies
standing next to oxidized hoops
                                                          one adjacent to the other
The haze of the heat hard, but not impossible
to withstand                swaying like the gust of wind, swaying  
                                            the blazing sun and my open palms swaying




Why was it here                                         that it felt like you left us
                                                              ­                                              stumped,  
unaware,­
consuming  with no  
                                              idea of the Greater



2.


                                                W­ H A T was it about inner cities
And skin that would tan
Or resist the sun
   that made you  mutter murky words  


judgement
                   that made me hike a

                                  K
                       A
            E
P
that for so long made feel like a (lost) traveler
unable to come find my way   D O W N.

Still on a mountain top
Never quite crossing the hurdle.
That’s how you wanted me
A
     B
          A
                N
                     D  O N E D.

3.

But my tongue made sounds
copper pots and plastic measuring cups
became the pious  accompaniment
of a song sung inwardly
until it manifested
Words on lips
                            Lips willing to kiss the purple clouds made out of strange fruit and a high border walls over my hand and back

4. A Swimsuit and a pool that could cool
me
small children see the cicatrixes
      But I walk towards the water; I have long abandoned shame.
(An mémwa granfré an mwen Dodo, frè jimo a Roderik, ki disparèt an *** lanmè koté Sentlisi lé disèt maws démildisèt anbo kanno ay, In God we Troust, menm jou ti frè an mwen Toto fété swasantkatran ay)

Lè Manzè Frégat, on vyé zwazo épi tèt a sizo lan mè, rivé

Konpè Dodo té ka ba dé kudmachwa adan on ponm arak kon i té ni vyé labitid fè

Dépi lé i té ti manmay chak trwazyèm vandrèdi a mars o pipiri chantan

Sété on sèl pélrinaj pou y té pran gou a sé prèmyé ponm malaka ki té vinn friktifyé

Vyé zwazo la diy konsa: « chaben, apakonsa zafè ka fèt ! avan ou té sèvi kow, avan menm ou té comansé manjé plen vant aw, ou té dwèt ban mwen lajan an mwen, ban mwen sa anfwamenm »

Konpè Dodo pa enmé pon vyé zwazo diy pon vyé biten ! I wondi bouch, i toufé, i manké tranglé :

-Ki pawol a foumi fou ki la ? i taw ?

-i tan mwen. ban mwen lajan an mwen, man, ou alo, ranjé zafè aw byen pas dènyé vandrèdi aw rivé !

ou pé kriyéy jan ou vlé malaba, malaka, kwachimelon, otaheite, pomme d’amour, ponm tayti, manzana malaya, séw ki sav, ou pa papay

sé mwen ki mèt ay, ou tann ! Ou tann byen !? Pa fè mwen trapé dézod épiw

Pa fè mwen jiréw, avan ou ay pran zafè a moun prokiré sav ki moun ki mèt a kann la

mwen ja las jouwé domino épiw, kouté sa byen, wouvè gran zorey aw ! An ja diw sa, yo ka kriyé mwen an lot koté Jambo, Prensès Scisour Lanmè

mwen pa vlé sav si ou métodis si ou advantis si ou ka fè penti

si ou rosikrisyen si ou catolik ou si ou ka trasé lèt asi olivetti

si bon dyé aw vodou, endou, ou témwendjéova, fwa aw sé taw, tan mwen sé tan mwen,

Non an mwen pa Séza non an mwen pa Bondyé sé Jambo

ponm arak ta la sé tan mwen, sé awryè granpapa granpapa mwen ki té arawak

ki plantéy, si ou vlé sav, ban mwen diw on ti biten malgré vyé mannyé érétik ou ni dépi toupiti. ou ka ékri tout koté « In God we Troust » sé pousa ou dwèt ka vinn trousé mwen ! foutémwa likan, espèce de malélivé

manjé kénèt aw ou chenet aw ponmsitè aw fé sa ou vlé épi yo mé pa mannyé vyé pyé ponm arak an mwen

sa ja ka fè plis ki katvensètan ou ka fé la fèt asi pyé ponm arak ta la

Ou pa sa li fransé , chaben ? espèce en voie d’extinction! An ké diw li on lot fwa an nanglè si ou pa vlé tann fransé

Endangered species !

Mé Kompè Dodo pa té vlé tann march ! Kompè Dodo mété koy ri ! I pa té pé rété ! Telman i té ka ri i té ka pléré !

Ki jan i té kay péyé pou on ponm arak pou on vyé frégat malkadik, dapréy non ay té « Prinsès Scisour Lanmè »

Manzè Frégat ou ni on jan dapréw ou sé yen a dan lé trwa Moiw, on Manzé Atropos

Konsidiré séw ki mèt a bobiné é débobiné

Mé apa mwen ou ké kouyoné, sé pa jodi jou disèt mars pon vyé zonbi ké koupé filsèvolan mwen

Banw diw sa, Tiré gran zèl nwè aw anba la pli la é ay pozé kow anba on pyé kowosol

Demen samdi avan jou ouvè mwen ké vinn kué ti ponm arak an mwen

Manzè Fregat pa pèd tan, vitman i poté mannèv, i anki ouvè gran gèl ay, bèk ay té ka parèt sizo

I vorey i varéy i valéy, i wotéy – zyé a zwazo la té ka sanm on sèl fé dartifis woz fichyia –

A las siete y media de la mañana, eran las siete y media en punto de la mañana

Kompè Dodo bat dènyé ti domino ay, a las siete y media de la mañana

Manzè Frégat comansé ranjé tou dousman sé domino la an bwat a domino la

Epi rès a ponm arak la i préparé pouy on ponch ponm malaka.

Sé pa pou ayen ni on proverb ki ka i konsa:

Pa jen jouwé domino épi on frégat si ou ka dwouéy on biten.
The Good Pussy Feb 2016
.
                      Mount
                Everest Moun
              Everest Mount E
              Mount Everest M
                 Everest Mount
                  Everest Mount
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Mount Everest
                  Everest Mount
                  Mount Everest
                Mount      Everest
          MountEvere  stMountEv
         erestMountE  verestMoun
         tEverestMou   ntEverestM
           ountEveres     tMountEv
              Mount            Everest
Dorothy Aug 2014
I lay motionless in front of the fan blowing a warm breeze, any sudden movement will have me drenched in my sweat mixed with insect repellent that I had to spray all over my freshly bathed skin to avoid the spreading mosquito virus. I already have 29 bites,itching while counting each minute they allow us to have electricity see, here the government can shut off the power throughout the entire village as they please even in 100 degree weather heat. Don't take the electricity, eyes tightly shut..don't take the electricity, maybe if I concentrate hard enough, don't take the electricity, i continue to plead. It's funny how we can take things for granted. As I think this the fan stops. The heat instantly begins to engulf itself around me there's nothing else I can do so I continue to lay still, it's now silent and In the distance I can hear faint voices talking. Mom and dad and a couple of friends are reminiscing on the good ol times when they were all together in the past. It's been 18 years since then. And I'm glad to be here with them to see their emotions filled with happiness. Visiting old family members and friends, they greet with their warm embraces, I smile. And even though more then half the county's population is in poverty on top of not being in the best medical condition you can tell that they except what life gives them so they continue to keep moving to keep going to keep fighting with less crying. Man It's funny how we can take things for granted. Mom and dad aren't the richest in fact they aren't rich at all but it's encouraging to see them still giving. We've only been here 5 days and it seems like they gave everything they have, but I trust that Jehovah will continue to provide materially for them, so I'm not worried about they're survival when we break up with vacation and go back. I have faith. Reality of todays condition hits when you witness someone who has far less then yourself. Kids playing race car with a wooden bench and sticks is a sight to see. You wondered why you cried when mama got you that cheap plastic Barbie doll, you girls know what I'm talking about, the one with the legs that easily popped off. Instead of the one that came in a fancier box. It's funny how we can take things for granted, even as innocent little children. And at least you get the option to ride on a bus that cost 2 bucks with comfortable enough seats and cool ac. Talk about luxury. Try riding in a pick up truck packed to the brim in the summer heat knocking on the back of the drivers window seat to signal the next stop and then paying him 8 bucks. See It's funny how we take things for granted. Now that I'm older Im grateful for what I had while growing up. That I have parents who fought to get where they're at with Jehovah's help. Haiti is my love, I'll embrace my culture with open arms and warm tender cheek kisses. Stitch my people's pain inside the bottom of my sleeve. And weave the essence of Haitian on the outside rim of my beating heart. Knowing that, when this system comes to a complete end this, this is when my country Haiti will truly live again. For Jehovah said “I am creating new heavens and a new earth.”​— Ayiti ou se peyi mwen, menm si mwen pat fet ladan, map toujou renmen ou ne *** sa moun yo di mwen, konye a wap soufri men pa pou two lontan, kontinye kenbe djanm nan fen system la. As long as I am Jehovah's Witness I'll be there to witness Haiti's rebirth. And I will not take that for granted, not while in Jehovah's paradise new earth.
I went to visit my mothers land for the first time when I was 5 years old.
This second visit meant more to me then ever before.
Kendall Mallon May 2013
“But it is no a matter
of choice; I can live
here only [with you].
I am a part of this
scene; each and all
its properties are
a part of me…”

As it is a part of you
we are both children of
the red earth—grown
into adults—nourished
by its water and clear,
crisp mountain air.

I know now, having
left, that I cannot
truly call any place
home other than
our single rectangle
of red dirt and blue
white-tipped moun’ains.

I can live anywhere
with you, but I now
understand and feel
the connection you
spoke to me when I
proposed leaving
it for a while to you.

We are a part of this
land—it courses through
our veins; you can take
certain plants from their
native soil, and they may
survive, but they will never
thrive; we can only thrive,
flourish, in our Colorado.
First stanza is from Mary Shelly's 'The Last Man'
Sew doudou pyé piman an mwen.
Sew doudou mèt kann a piman zwazo
Sew ki ka fè bonda manjak
Konsidiré I miel
Sew doudou piman miz an mwen
Sew ki ka soulajé ko mwen
Sew ki ka fè mwen lévé
Sew ki ka fè mwen soukwé soukwé adanw
Kolé séré
Sew ki ka fè mwen briyé kon letwal a lorian
O pipirit chantan
Man enmé bektew telman
Si ou té sav ki jan man enmé bektew
Man enmé bektew kon foufou
Man enmé voré asiw kon rakoun agoulou granfal
Piman miz an mwen
Pyé piman miz an mwen
Pyé la sa ka toujou poté
Piman aw ni mowdan kon pins a krab
Ban mwen on bon moso piman aw Pou nou mangé kon granmoun kalalu an nou doudou.
Piman aw woz woz woz doudou
Piman aw wouj wouj wouj
Piman aw nwè nwè nwè
Piman aw cho cho cho
Piman aw ka brenné
Piman miz aw ka chofé tout ko an mwen doudou
Ki sa ou mèté adan i pou I ka pike mwen konsa
On bon to piman doudou
I bon you bonnman doudou
I ni on ti gou mirtiy
Man pa Jin manje piman konsa doudou
Metey adan flakon
Pou mwen te parfumé mwen
Metey adan zakra jiwomon doudou
Pou man pe chofe ko mwen doudou
Piman miz
Piman miz
Se on ras piman ki telman Bon
Se on kalite piman
Ki ka dérayé moun ki pa save koman kuiziney
Piman miz piman miz
En Nou dansé doudou
On bel bolewo épi piman la sa ki ka voyé mizik asi nou doudou
andy fardell Feb 2011
Remember what they fought for
remember why they fell
remember all the killings
and living life in hell

Remember what they did for us
remember who they were
remember all the people
that they did fight and fall

A day to show our pride
a day to bow our heads
a day to moun our family
lest we forget
Andrea Rizzo Apr 2014
I saw it in a magazine,
on a gloomy indoors night.

The art of deconstructing;
     I read the article.

It took things apart,
but didn't place them

back together.

Deconstructing,

where taking apart
someone's soul
becomes as easy as
unscrewing a box.

Deconstructing,

we take each part and
lay it tidily over a white table.

And we do too,
deconstruct.

Like children unhappy
of their building blocks masterpiece,

we

fall

apart.

Everything we ever thought
we were comes away
with a blow of the wind.

We dissect our minds,
and become like all the others,
broken,
     empty.

We deconstruct and build
ourselves upon society's
stereotypes.

We moun our lawn
of personality,
all of our flowers
gone.

Crushes, smashes,
sounds of death.

We have become
like all the others.

The art of deconstructing,
or as they call it,
the Art of tiding up.
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
Adam Lay Ybounden
(anonymous Medieval English Lyric, circa early 15th century AD)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Adam lay bound, bound in a bond;
Four thousand winters, he thought, were not too long.
And all was for an apple, an apple that he took,
As clerics now find written in their book.
But had the apple not been taken, or had it never been,
We'd never have had our Lady, heaven's queen.
So blesséd be the time the apple was taken thus;
Therefore we sing, "God is gracious!"

The poem has also been rendered as "Adam lay i-bounden" and "Adam lay i-bowndyn." Here is the original poem in one of its ancient forms:

Adam lay i-bounden, bounden in a bond;
Foure thousand winter thought he not too long.
And all was for an apple, an apple that he took,
As clerkes finden written in theire book.
Ne hadde the apple taken been, the apple taken been,
Ne hadde never our Lady aye been heavene queen.
Blessed be the time that apple taken was,
Therefore we moun singen, “Deo gracias!”

Keywords/Tags: Middle English, translation, Medieval English, Adam, Eve, Genesis, Garden of Eden, apple, God, grace, gracious, Mary, heaven's queen, Lady, clerics
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
who needs a giraffe
when you can **** a rhino?

elongated neck,
a smirk,
a take on being
the emblem of savvy...
the last of the worth
of 20 odd years...

jeff buckley:
before i hear your cry...
and i will hear
your cry: your *****!
you will cry! *****!
it's jeff buckley!
you will cry!

i don't want to,
but i will...
and i will because
i am not .i.am.
and because i...
want to & too...

i have more worth
of a heart,
yet i heave so much less
to incorporate
a tear to guarantee
be a bitten beat
of rhythm...
your:
my kiss my heart,
and the tooth nibbling
spare,
to be left in youth:
a promenade's worth
of a a spring's
and a promenade's
buckle scoop
for a squander...

     jeff buckley
would never become
a brandon lee..

          with such song on
the air, and with such ache,
dying...
   will be satiated by
an anaesthetic...
whereby:
  all of dying revolves
around the simpleton's quest
of the worded: just fine...

i am willing to die,
to have died,
with such tenderness
of a closure with
the gravity of
jeff buckley's:
hallelujah
of the mea culpa
             variant...

ha! no life prior
to 30 and not having listened
to miles davis' kind of blue...
as if i were
prior to learning
the concept of lounging
and billy the kid
experiecing the object of
sofa...
   and...

what comes within the confines
of... a "lost feather"...
and what is the "necessary"
base for script...

              and what is
the submerged feel
of tongue...
  and what is akin to it:
a broken wing...
and...
                the turmeric's worth
for the worth of:
sun begot slip,
and slip begot the baron
clot of hindsight
of a scraatching vinyl
on ice lord: loop.

i need both a lemon
and an orange, peeled,
for a sunset...
but to be given either,
as both,
to make resemble,
an equal clarity!

             how about...
i lose any and all
ambition to cherish
anything of worth and
anything at all to have
have been lost,
and synchronised
in being cherished too?

how about that?
am i, what deserves a p.s.
and only thus,
said and lost
and lost and said and better
forgotten...
and no rubric,
and certainly not the Beatles
and certainly no Evlis...

and you my cold Monday,
and you...
my lazy Sunday,
and you my: never a cure
the cure pop slash of song...

stranded sire,
of a sinking ship,
bound to an achor,
and weaving
waves to a wadering
wind
made tumult:
what could have
been a thought,
a soul,
a, a breath,
came as lightly as...
nothing more than
an elongated vowel
and the captured
elongation of a vowel
in a consonant:
AH...

            what was
to be a riddle...
became as simple as...

a...
        
                  sigh;

sighs do not allow themselves
to be congested by
a tomb...

       i: tow the debt of...
whispers without an
anonymous script of:
people who'd love to be
associated
with given: scrap 'o'
           cohen...

who is the www.poetryfoundation.org?
who is anyone,
who is:
the person with a head
for a shank of lamb
prior to the Edward crowned;
oven invitation only:
         supra to no ditto?

choc. chipped cookies:
and all that's
assured the conventional
terminology of
an Etonian, mess...

         me?

             what: ****'s worth
of ******* a ******?
do i look like some
English bourgeoisie?
      no!
                 i have hibernian
attaché "squirm"
              spots of minder
to "attempt" to gravitate from...
in Catholic,
as in:

      'eire and the paul's slack
& lack...

           fidgit: the LOAN TITO TEEN OH
'phbet...

scout the 'ed
& eer' 'n' oh...
                  to loan a sme'ck...
and rattled by 'eeve'
  to confine a:
Mr. to every Moun't'aey.

— The End —