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Saša D Lović Apr 2015
žustri su me žmarci
obavili
strujim sa njima
i ne znam
dal da se smejem
senci
koju baca moje
zgrčeno telo
u redu za nestajanje
ili
pamteći samo radosne dane
zaplačem nad ovom
scenom
Johnny Noiπ Jul 2018
The Land of Nod (Hebrew: ארץ נוד‬, eretz-Nod)
is a place mentioned in the Book of Genesis
of the Hebrew Bible, located "on the east of Eden"
(qidmat-‘Eden), where Cain was exiled
by God after Cain had murdered his brother Abel;
According to Genesis 4:16:

And Cain went out from the presence of the LORD,
and dwelt in the land of Nod, on the east of Eden.

(וַיֵּ֥צֵא קַ֖יִן מִלִּפְנֵ֣י יְהוָ֑ה וַיֵּ֥שֶׁב בְּאֶֽרֶץ־נֹ֖וד קִדְמַת־עֵֽדֶן‬)

"Nod" (נוד) is the Hebrew root of the verb
"to wander" (לנדוד). Therefore, to dwell
in the land of Nod is usually taken to mean
that one takes up a wandering life. Genesis 4:17
relates that after arriving in the Land of Nod,
Cain's wife bore him a son, Enoch,
in whose name he built the first city;

"Nod" (נוד‬) is the Hebrew root of the verb
"to wander" (לנדוד‬). Therefore, to dwell
in the land of Nod can mean to live
a wandering life; Gesenius defines (נוּד‬) as follows:

TO BE MOVED, TO BE AGITATED
(Arab. ناد Med. Waw id.), used of a reed
shaken by the wind, 1Ki.14:15; hence to wander,
to be a fugitive, Jer. 4:1; Gen. 4:12, 14; Ps.56:9;
to flee, Ps. 11:1; Jer. 49:30. Figuratively, Isa. 17:11,
נֵד קָצִיר‬ "the harvest has fled" ["but see נֵד‬ ,"
which some take in this place as the subst.]

Much as Cain's name is connected
to the verb meaning "to get" in Genesis 4:1,
the name "Nod" closely resembles the word
"nad" (נָ֖ד‬), usually translated as "vagabond",
in Genesis 4:12. (In the Septuagint's rendering
of the same verse, God curses Cain
                  to τρέμων, "trembling")

A Greek version of Nod written as Ναίν
appearing in the Onomastica Vaticana
possibly derives from the plural נחים‬,
which relates to resting and sleeping;
This derivation, coincidentally or not,
connects with the English pun on "nod";

Josephus wrote in Antiquities of the Jews
(c. AD 93) that Cain continued his wickedness
in Nod: resorting to violence and robbery;
establishing weights and measures;
transforming human culture from innocence
into craftiness and deceit; establishing
property lines; and building a fortified city;

Nod is said to be outside of the presence
or face of God: Origen defined Nod
  as the land of trembling and wrote
  that it symbolized the condition of all
who forsake God; Early commentators
  treated it as the opposite of Eden
  (worse still than the land of exile
for the rest of humanity);  In the English tradition
Nod was sometimes              described as a desert
    inhabited only by ferocious beasts or monsters;
Others interpreted      Nod as dark or even
underground—away from the face of God—

Augustine described unconverted Jews as
dwellers in the land of Nod, which he defined
as commotion and "carnal disquietude"
Reece Mar 2015
Lonely black lab on the path behind the garages I used to sell crack
Went to the shop, brought some ****, blacked out windows on a cab
spells danger backwards that's Reg Nad
So I'm looking all around me, back at the cash grab
Where old ladies clutch black bags and wear glad rags
I'm not glad lad, '*** the world looking like rag mags
with girls selling soul on corners right now
where their daddies sag lag on the track; Baghdad
where war heroes return home back to the smack
and clap traps where they get and share the clap; sad
or when little kids run to their mummies 'cross roads all alone
to their home that used to be a home but now is a dome for the dome
so food can be put on tables that rust and break and the kids get hurt
child protective services, what's worse
I'll tell you what's worse living in a hearse
or a one berth tent on this Earth where the ones in charge
discredit your worth
or better still when they ignore your very existence
so we're standing here screaming and pleading
bleeding and scheming
because there's no food in the cupboards
quit dreaming
stop the screaming
Lousy demon fiending, feeding the sea men with *****
on seashores the sea's ****** sing hee-haw the horse of remorse
hits the veins and see more the way the see-saw zig-zags
back to the black labs on lagging black paths
behind the garages I used to sell crack
RIP Reginald Naden
Kuzhur Wilson Apr 2014
No, it wasn’t happening for the first time

I don’t know whether anyone wrote ‘Tattered sky’ in a poem before. Maybe it was me. I haven’t met a poet in whose life memory and forgetting are so mixed up. Even if I wrote, maybe I had forgotten it..

Still, I am sure I am the first poet to write ‘tattered sky in the lake’ for the first time in the world. Otherwise, ask those crows pecking it to tatters. Or ask the kingfishers who fly in that tattered sky.

It is not the first time it is happening, you know?

I have cried in keka and kakali meters. I have begged in kalakanchi. I have lied in kalyani. I have laughed and guffawed  in anushtup and sardula vikriditham. I have masturbated in slathakakali, and ****** in anna nada, and let it flow innathonnatha. I have dozed in manjari and died in maakandamanjari. I have gone mad in mandakranta, and have lost myself in meters i don’t know the names of.

Two nuns who went to Aluva river sands to pay annual obeisance to the dead to Jesus

One day, while going via Aluva, i saw two nuns. They were two poor women going to Aluva river sands to pay to Jesus the annual obeisance to the dead.  One among them had the looks of my mother, and the other, that of my girl friend at the church compound. Even when i recited aloud VG Thampi’s lines ‘I am Jesus, unfinished’ they didn’t listen to it. They were not in any way related to me. Then, i was a handicapped Jesus.

It is not the first time it is happening, you know?

I have cried in keka and kakali meters. I have begged in kalakanchi. I have lied in kalyani. I have laughed and guffawed  in anushtup and sardula vikriditham. I have masturbated in slathakakali, and ****** in anna nada, and let it flow innathonnatha. I have dozed in manjari and died in maakandamanjari. I have gone mad in mandakranta, and have lost myself in meters i don’t know the names of.

My name was Shemeer then

In the hospital at NAD, my job was to sleep in the place of that fat insomniac doctor. My name then was Shemeer. I can’t prove through my writing how well I performed my job snoring loudly all the way.  I don’t think anyone would have worked like this so totally oblivious of oneself. My sleep was not in the least affected by the rounded ******* of doctor’s jasmine vine of a wife, or by the odour (i wanted to say smell) which was capable of bringing the dead back to life. Moreover, his two candle-like daughters used to play hopscotch on my bed sheet, which was my work place.  But what to say? They dismissed me from my job for opening my eyes a wee bit on a day at dusk. I heard a shriek. That too, a familiar one. They had brought Madhavi Chothi to the hospital when her asthma got worse. True, i did open my eyes. I am Shemeer, the one who was dismissed from his job for the first time in history, for having startled awake from sleep.

It is not the first time it is happening, you know?

I have cried in keka and kakali meters. I have begged in kalakanchi. I have lied in kalyani. I have laughed and guffawed  in anushtup and sardula vikriditham. I have masturbated in slathakakali, and ****** in anna nada, and let it flow innathonnatha. I have dozed in manjari and died in maakandamanjari. I have gone mad in mandakranta, and have lost myself in meters i don’t know the names of.

One could have adjusted at least a day..**

Something that smelt of breast milk. I think my name was Shinto or so at that time. I was an altar boy who had lost his belief in names after having cognac from a bar in Chicago. There was a little bird too. From that day, i developed the habit of calling even a crow a little bird. Whatever it maybe, there was a little bird. And that bird was building a nest. The bird brings the twigs, strands of hay, a bit of a flex sheet broken at the edge of a word. The bird brings a red wire, the bird brings. It was beginning to take life in the address ‘The Little Bird, Nest, Tree PO ‘. A day. A week. An year. Yes, it took a long, long time. Bird, nest, tree.. tree, nest, bird.. The moment i asked ‘Hey little bird, don’t you have kids?’,  it flew away. Here it comes with its little ones to occupy its home. Yes, that very day. On that day, just after those who won the tender contract, had cut that tree down. This was too much. They could have adjusted at least a day..

It is not the first time it is happening..
Translated by C.S Venkiteswaran
Lukáš Vejsada Sep 2016
Chyť se mých křídel
na zrncích písku
slova jsou moře
a já jsem vzduch

Cesta vede tmavozeleným tunelem stromů
a září zatím neškrtlo sirkami hodin
o hřebínky vln.

V eternitu střech a vybledlých korunách domů
jsou kalná podkroví
a u zahalených břehů nahá samota mladých leseb a přehřátých starců
zkalená do němoty modrého dne.

Než plíce jehličnaté noci naposledy vydechnou
do jílovitého ramene
oxidující pískovec fasády léta
a září škrtne o hřebínky v trávě
nad závity stébel a sedmikrásnými stvoly se ponesou otáčky kol
a šelestění kloubů od stolů a slunečníků u silnic.

Děti pak pošlou matky na březové ostrovy hledat věčná napajedla
a hejna dronů rozhodí svoje sítě mezi souhvězdími
aby na sítnici zachytily bronz milenců
a v nekonečně krátkém čase sestrojily triangulaci neopakovatelného
z kterého není návratu.
Pískovna Cep, Suchdol n. Lužnicí/Majdalena, září 2016
sowa Feb 2020
HERODY Herodenspiel Akt I, swieczka 7 CANTO DLIV

Dzisiaj kanclerz Angel spada z krzesła
Adolf ****** w Bayreuth znowu gość
W hełmie czujny baczność ma SS-Mann
Siłę Wagner i Pańskość na oku
Panowanie Emocji nad Epoką

Wsiadamy do windy, jedziemy na Saturn
Po drodze mijamy pod kinem Uciecha Park
Miasteczko Czeladź, jak kot napłakał
Kościół, karczma, synagoga i łaźnia
których nie ma już od siedmiu boleści

Grabek, Węgroda, Bożecha, Warszawka
Czegóż tu jeszcze szukać ze świecą
W oknie sepia: oddajemy wet za bet
Za brak ostrości na fotografiach
Młodości sielskiej, angielskiej

audio: https://gloria.tv/post/rEmkNDmNWjL31sZBaheWv7ew1
The meaning fo metathesis si easy ot recall
When you give your love a ikss or throw your sno a ball,
Aks fro sugra ni your cup nad dressnig no the greens
Obedience school fro the pup ro you may riks a scene.

Og fro the glod ni all you od nad when you've done your bets
Relax nad know that you will og fra along your quets,
Snik a putt ot get the pra like pors no the V.T.
Write a sotry, count the stras, climb the lod brich tree.
metathesis: transposition of sounds or letters in a word.

Copyright 2000 JB Marshall
Lukáš Vejsada May 2017
***
Všechno je projasněné,
už nejsou žádné temné kouty.

Nikdo už nad ničím
hlavou nezakroutí.

Vše projasněné je
jak nebe, než se zšeří.

Bez klik fantazie
jsou nástrahy příšeří.

Do světa pohádek
poletí nazpátek

stíny bez páteří.
Lukáš Vejsada Jul 2016
Stínové divadlo, plátno bez mraků
Polibky paprsků chutnají mdle
Žně slunce, výstřižek kadeří prachu
Scéna se spalovnou na čelním skle

Tváře a vteřiny končí pod koly
Nad pěstí siluet vztyčené gesto
V stříbrném příboji plovoucí vory
Za hradbou doutná hořící město

Sto věží padá na žíhané domy
Sto věží nad kvádry, ze kterých zebe
Pás oken zazdil tašky střech do tmy
Pár trysek kreslí žíhané nebe
Štěrboholská/Jižní spojka, březen 2009
Lukáš Vejsada Jul 2017
Cihlové stínadlo, divan bez prachu
Výhybky prskavců chutnají zle
Hne sumcem, vylíže střídavě bráchu
Semena s holbou na výkladním skle

Páry a mrdiny končí pod voly
Nad hrstí úliteb vítězné gesto
Stříbrné příbory v podpraží hulí
Za bradou dřímá horoucí těsto

Proč běží sádla na získané body
Proč běží pro kádry, ze kterých jebe
Pásovec zas dal hlavičku do tmy
Pár krysek sladí sžíravě sebe
sowa Mar 2020
49.

Men, Niemen?
most, rzeka i autobus
zatacza się w pagórki
          Wilia?
          w upale budzą się Suwałki
          Memel zaciąga brzeg lasem
          znużoną powieką
Memelland ist abgebrannt
          mury
          pagórki
          coraz to milej do ciebie
          miłe miasto

https://yandex.ru/collections/card/5e6f063db651624b1a7fd6ad/


53.

NA ANTOKOLU


na Antokolu
barok wkoło
stiukowi święci
w plafony wzięci
królowie
            żyd jak żywy
            w peruce na głowie
            triumfuje w purpurze
nad ołtarzem w górze
zaś przy drzwiach
z krzyża zdejmowany
nie baczy na rany świeże
dłoń składa na grzbiecie
na nowym habicie
w ofierze
wpółobjęty
z jednego gwoździa zdjęty
ledwo, a już łaskawie
nad mieczykami z ogrodu
błogosławi płotu
regina pacis
dwa bębny tureckie
zdobyte pod  Chocimiem
milczą w kruchcie nad Wilią


60.

JAK WILENKA

spóźnimy się na wieczór Alicji Rybałko
jak Wilenka po Zarzeczu kluczymy; mosty
w zaułki - miasto dla nas na trzy klucze
zamknięte, jak bajka o spiżowym wilku

w Pikieliszkach za dworem księżyc studzi jezioro
para łabędzi przy brzegu - tak prosto romantycznie
i książki w bibliotece dla dzieci tu
nadal dostać można jedynie po rosyjsku

a poezja Alicji, jak gotyk św. Anny
na palach olchowych i workach piasku
w płomienistym po wielokroć łuku
przenoszę na dłoni ten kościół



Stefan Kosiewski; OBY DO WILNA. Wiersze. Wstęp: Dr Romuald Cudak: Na marginesie. Redakcja: Barbara Jędrzejczak. Opracowanie, korekta: Tadeusz Adam Knopik. Łamanie: Robert Kosek. Wydawca: Stowarzyszenie Europejskie PONS GAULI; współwydawca: Radio PLUS Katowice Sp. z o.o. Drukarnia im. K. Miarki w Mikołowie. Katowice 2000 ISBN 83-914127-0-9
OBY DO WILNA
Robert Salát Jan 2015
Šest tisíc mil asfaltu a prachu.
Kolik tisíc chlapů vydalo se na tu cestu?
Už dobře poznáš tu hranici strachu,
když blížíš se k proklatýmu městu.

Tam lidi neznaj slitování
a ženský neznaj lásku,
a ty proto nad svítáním
nosíš ocel na opasku.

A tak jedeš dál,
možná najdeš svoje sny.
Seš silnice král,
ale štvou tě pouštní psi.

Snad až si jednou spočineš
na lůžku z kapradin a mechů,
doufám, že pak nalezneš
klid hvězd, co ti poskytujou střechu.
yo **** this ***** name jalel
whos really a woman whos tried to appeal
to be a man but understand
youll never be me im like eazy e
and you be d to r e
makin' threats but ya gets no respect
but a gun check respect the tech as load it through ya neck
ya guillotine hoppin' on th3 scene
with my sixty four creepin' slow
with 304s galore i adore
ya aint ready for war
i told you gotta put kids to bed
before midnight ****** in my sight
killin' emcees softly
not speakim' lauryn hill entice fright and thrills
make bodies freeze colder than the ice on my windmills
necklace blinging ***** im from texas
we ball lacs n throw blades on the lexus cant get with us crew be dangerous trust its a must
that ya step back or else get put flat on ya back imagine that?
me loosin to this janky ***** name jalel ya frill than a third wheel
cant even rhyme for ****
sound hesitated constipated
i patiently waited
for you to give me something to vibe but ya just too horrible
sped up ya flow fool
cuz ya sound slow as ****
i rep the old school sound the tools
from every angle
make ya bo legged like bojangles as ya body drools
nothing but blood covered
its a baptism as i continya breakin' nerves like annuerism
nad yea aint it dont stop
cuz its 187 on a muthaphukkin' flop


shut the corny *** lines up
u aint rippin' up **** but ya own ****
******' ya self with self gratification its me against the nation
im black n my brothers be ****** rasta jamaican
***** you fakin'
cant hang with the y to the o to the s to the e f
yes im fresh then a dead body on ya porch steps
sending warning scorning
while in ya morge stiff
ya family mourning
over ya cant **** with the best in the industry
do ya like james did to tammie
terrell entice hell everytime fools try to send mail
my way hop in the six tre
i got hoes to **** check my gangsta limp.
***** i am eazy e son of lost dynasty i see ya eyin me
peepin' **** cuz it hits
like a slug to ya cranium strong as titanium
got extra clips to withdraw
adn im.aimmin em
at your headpiece as ya body grows obese
bigger than della reese feast
only on the weakest i be the wickedest stick my **** in this
instrumental cant hang with me
you worse than that ***** jalel be
writing them corny *** lines
with them horrible *** rhymes
wouldn't even amount to a dime compared to mine
ya make me look flawless
rippin' vocal chords got ya jawless i be the rawest
on this competiton i got for bloodraw with no intermission
i see ya beggin'
but go back to jalel so ya can
start peggin'
each other yeaaa and it dont stop cuz its 187 on a ***** names pablo and jalel
Why am I always hurt
Day and day its always the same.
He hits me and kicks me
And says its all my fault
That he suffer's at work.
I try to hide the bruises
Under the make-up and clothes.
But the physical pain is to
Much to bear.
I dont think I can take much more of this.
He walks through the door
All mad nad ticked off.
He grabs me and hits me
With the back of his hand.
I start to whimper
He yells horrible words
And slams me onto
The cold hard floor.
When I start to cry
He picks me up
And throws me on the bed.
Then he feels bad
And gives me a kiss.
I feel like i'm standing alone.
Fighting with right and wrng.
Should I stay or should I go?
But in the end
I always choose wrong.
I wrote this about abuse, I personally have not experienced anything like this but I have come close. I left before it got to bad. Seeing all kinds of stuff about abusive partners on the news and how they end up going right back to it made me want to write about it, hope you all enjoy!
Lukáš Vejsada Jun 2018
***
Je jedna adresa na vrchu nebe,
kam jednou doručí

mě, možná i Tebe,

ale je jedno místo o dost blíž zemi,
kde topí zadarmo,

kde nejsou peníze,
tak jako v nebi.

Tam někde nahoře máš výhled shůry
a můžeš tam potkávat

nebeské můry,

ale tam někde dole Ti shoří křídla
a žízeň uhasí

jen podzemní vřídla.

Je jedna adresa na vrchu nebe,
kam jednou pošlou

můry i Tebe,

ale je jedna adresa o dost níž k zemi,
kde vaří zadarmo,

kde nejsou stravenky,
tak jako v nebi.

Tam někde navrchu jsou nebeské kůry
a andílci z KFC

maj' křidýlek fůry,

ale tam dole pod zemí jsou kosti bez stehen
a duše tam nespravíš

jediným stehem.

Je jedna adresa na vrchu nebe,
kam jednou doručí,

co zbyde ze mě,

ale je jedno místo lehce nad zemí,
kde život se v prach

pro jednou změní.
Volně inspirováno písní "Heaven and Hell" (John Entwistle).
Dana Skorvankova Aug 2016
Musí to přeci jít
Musí to jít
Žít bez citů

Vždyť svět o sobě
Neví, že je má
Tak, jako neví,
Že vnímám

Musí to přeci jít
Musí to jít
Dívat se bez slz

Vždyť dokud v naší zemi
Nebylo lidí,
Nikdo nebyl s to
Slzu utratit nad ní
A je ticho,
tak, jako bylo
tak, jako bude
Lukáš Vejsada Jun 2017
Za plotem v zahradě pár bývalých přátel
plameny k nebi šlehá

Západní slunce nad hrází
si do korun stromů sedá

Po břehu korzující dívka s harfou
a větrem zčeřená hladina s kameny a trávou.
Holá alej s pahýly.
Zastav se na chvíli.

Džungle v zámeckém parku
a jaro za oknem léčebny, z které se už nevrátíš, babi.

V suterénu dech vlhkých zdí a torza laviček v parku.

Lítost se právě probouzí,
minulost ukládá k spánku.

— The End —