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Dondaycee May 2018
(Flobots)
“I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
nooo handlebars, nooo handlebars,
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
nooo handlebars, nooo handlebars,
Look at me, look at me,
Hands in the air like it’s good to be…”
Alive; I’m a happy Artist because songs like this make me feel so dope,
Because not only can I hit a note,
I speak into existence everything they wrote,
This makes me think of my generation: The
Millennials,
Because we grew up knowing we’re dope how could they possibly expect us, a collective of genius to choke?
I know I sound pessimistic, but I’m equally optimistic,
I dislike the characteristics in materialistic,
Check the statistics, it’s unrealistic,
Emphasize artistic, ambition, or even narcissistic,
Simplicity shouldn’t be complicated, it’s our form of linguistics,
For some reason, imagination is not idealistic,
So those who use the right brain are classified as autistic,
Idiocracy was an illness, it’s why we **** us,
But get this,
They said I can be anything, I picked genius,
That’ll get you killed,
It doesn’t require skill so that career is of inconvenience,
I trusted myself, I discovered the paradox of choice, and taught that,
I took the old philosophy, modernized it along with the understanding of consciousness, and promised honestly when I harnessed it that the knowing would be brought back,
Anyone who’s been following my work would have caught that,
This is potent ambition, I saw an inevitable position,
Where my peers existed; some missin,
I told God: “I understand free will and all, but it’s the reason we’re able to **** at all”
So God blessed me with another vision,
It was an opportunity based on decision,
It was one without the condition of division,
Look man, I give love, I don’t expect anything in return,
I understand respect isn’t something you earn,
You give it because you have it,
It’s not a lesson we learn,
****… I can’t form a linear thought to explain what I’m doing,
I’m just looking for ways to ensure that you win,
I studied the mental and emotional state,
Because we already have answers for the physical,
I extend my hand to heal and they pointed a gun,
Like my philosophy is something political,
“**** me if you must, regardless I’ll still love you”
POP! POP!
Two in the chest like it was analytical,
My skin is dark, dogmatic things; it wasn’t the reason,
It’s fear in others; “I’m having a problem breathing”,
Stereotypical became sociopolitical when umbilical became mystical,
I’m talking Roots, trace it back to the tree and you’ll find intelligence,
A time where humans had elegance,
Adam fell and hit his knee,
Eve had left because she thought it was right,
I’m talking Roots, where slaves are black; whom only express negligence,
A time where hell was heaven sent,
Atoms, cells, no harmony,
We thought left like there wasn’t a right,
And these two stories happened at the same **** time,
You gotta understand that this is life,
Because these two stories is why we can’t think right,
The problem isn’t man, it’s with sight, side, sign, light,
This isn’t physical, but you see words,
Assume I am bleeding,
Resume to save me IF I am leaving,
Ignore the mistreating,
Adore the fist beating,
I’ll get to my feet and walk one day,
Maybe not, walk away,
But I’ll have just enough energy to talk one way,
One word before grave,
“Some nerve of em aye?”
Because I can say “Love” before I drop and decay,
And they’ll say “Where’s the ambition?”,
Before firing a third round…
After the sound, a laugh was missing,
Looking eye to eye; the rest cried like it was I who did this,
I, was crucified,
He, was suicide,
And they, had to decide if they would choose love, or fear bassed off the previous concision…
Namir May 2014
As it started to grow even darker, and as the sun began to set, The Snow Leopard nudged the Little Fox awake again softly saying to her "Come on. Wake up. It's time to get going before it gets too dark." The little fox pulled herself up groggily and almost toppled over herself in her half awake state, "But I'm tired" she whined softly, nuzzling herself against the leopards side. The leopard smiled and chuckled, "Then get on my back, and I will carry you" he said as he waited for her to move. She smiled at him in her half awaken daze as she clumsily climbed onto the leopards back and layed flat, her legs dangling off his sides, nuzzling her face into the fur on his back, smiling and resting. After she got onto his back the snow leopard stood up carefully and slowly, making sure not the let the little fox fall off, and startedwalking back to the direction they came. As he was walking with the little one on his back he kept looking around to find clues of the direction they went. But everything seemed to look different, Had I taken the wrong path? He thought to himself since he didn't pay much attention to where he went when he rushed to her aid before. Even if we are lost I have to find a safe place for her at least. He kept looking around for any type of shelter for the night, even if it was too small for him and he would have to keep guard. As he kept walking he took a few turns, keeping an eye out for anything that could be considered 'shelter', A overhanging rock, a cave, even a small tunnel, anything. But he didn't seem to find anything. He started walking a little faster but kept care to make sure the fox wouldn't fall off his back in her slumber. Time went on minute by minute, and as he started to feel like he wouldn't find anything he saw a small, but not too small cliff with some overlaying trees and rocks. He stopped for a moment, It's... Not to safe looking... But its better then nothing. he thought to himself as he walked over to he cliffs conclave alcove. He softly nudged the cliffs side with him paw to see if it was sturdy enough for the night, which it seemed to be. "Hey, Come on. Wake up." He said as he shook his back very slightly just to nudge her awake. The little fox yawned and groaned again, "are we... home?" She whispered as she rubbed her eyes. "Sadly... No," muttered the snow leopard softly, "but this will have to do for the night. Just to keep up sheltered and safe. I want you to stay in the corner over there to stay safe and I will stay right here to make sure you will be ok." said the snow leopard with a slight smile. But the little fox didn't like that idea, "..Nooo..." she said with a frown and a whimper, "I want to stay with you, I want you with me... Please..." She started clinging to him as if her life depended on it, She didnt want to sleep without him wrapped around her. "Alright. Alright," the snow leopard sighed with a smile, walking farther into the small alcove of the cliff. "Come on. lets get some rest for tonight. and tomorrow we will find our way back home." He said nudging her off his back a bit. The little fox hopped off the leopards back and curled back into a little ball on the ground. The leopard then curled himself around her with a smile, nuzzling his cheek softly against hers, and said "Goodnight little one. May you have sweet dreams till the morning sun rise," though making sure to keep an eye on the entrance to the alcove. The little fox smiled and snuggled up to him while staying all curled up, Muttering under her breathe without realizing and while falling back to sleep "Thank you... I love you..." The snow leopard smiled brightly as he heard and realized what she said, then softly muttered back into her ear as she fell asleep "And I love you," he then closed his eyes and layed with her until they were both asleep peacefully.
Part 4 of the short story series "The Leopard and The Fox"
Made by Myself for a very special young woman.
Universal Thrum Sep 2013
Hey Delilah, whatchu doin tonight
I'm comin right over, we gotta get over our lives..our lives

Hey Delilah, take my hand it is strong
Its gonna get over, we gotta get over your howl..
the sound..of fear

Heed the call now
It's waves resonate in you
shredding the soul
many steps we walk through..to the tune

Circular Paths, streets are callin wild
Resides in our heart
Our vibrational soul
in the while, for awhile, all our days

It would be a sin against my God to live in ignorance of your touch
Feel the Divinity of your womanly warmth, of your warmth
To Explore your innermost fathoms
and the Reflection of Desire in your eye
Found in the sensual meditation of your gaze,
in the night

Our Bodies belong together
The story of their union was told
Long before our birth on this earth, in the old, it was told

Like David on the roof top
For you a man would die in war
So meet me by the hillside
We'll grow old, in the shadow of the wood

Away from tired world notion
of what is right or good
Lay with me next to gurgling streams
Adorned with Gold
Whose gaiety of movement
it will match our own
Finding ******* freedom in the forest
The air both sweet and pure

WE CAN BE TOGETHER
THERE LOST IN TIME
HEED MY CALL IT IS WILD AND WARM IN YOUR EYE,
IN YOUR EYE THROUGH THE NIGHT

HEYAHA!

What I am I don't Know!
I run along Rivers and stand naked in snow
Climb Waterfalls, Smile in Trees, and Howl at the Moon
Surf on the Dunes
Swim in the Sea
Lie on the shore in the breeze
If you should ask me I don't know ask me again
I'll never know my friend

You want something from me
a guarantee
Not mine to give
Falling right over, we gotta get over the fear
of the fear

Feel these arms, they can take you down
fold you right up in the valley of womanly streams
Lost in the waters, Life is a dream

There is nooo goin back....From whence we came
Time is like a river wild, untamed, untamed
Endlessly moving forward
into stratums unknown
Make the most of this moment or ever, forever, feel the pains of cowardice alone

The past is like a window
Burns HOT like the sun
Everyone makes choices and hopes they're not wrong

Life is like a river with so many streams
We all go into the ocean drowning with dreams
With dreams left unsaid

It's been awhile, we're gonna find it again
A human connection, Life is dominated by sin
The material
The desire for more, are we here to acquire a Mate?
A family, a woman, a house?
A couple share their drink


Listen to the river of sand
The torrent of Maia
The reign of illusion, found in your hand
Desire
Are we man enough to face it?
To seize our fates?

We live, as cowards, surviving in shadow
What is our personality, Id or the Ego
Liar...Livin in Time

Standing in the Present Moment
Ignoring my Father again
all things come to an end my friend, your lonely soul therein

Deadened tissue of the heart
nothingness invading
wink of the light
rapturous smile, earthly delight, breeds tomorrow's sorrow

Livin' on the last straw
cresting a turquoise wave
Risking the razor's edge of our fall
Dying with a Song on stage
Sensual desire,
wrapped in the spirit,
touched by the Dark, touched by the Light
Hundred million reasons to fight

Rain Wash this age away
Leave me naked in the wind as I came, as I came
Spread cushioned by the bedding of green moss
Birthed in a forest, sonic cataclysmic sound
Consequence, all our dreamin and dreamin and dreamin around

The cog revolves around the wheel
Fire dancer breathing still
In the harmonium of the heart
Into the night we fly to survive
https://soundcloud.com/universalthrum/heed-the-call-pt-1
https://soundcloud.com/universalthrum/heed-the-call-pt-2
ZM Nov 2010
Am I doing something wrong?
Who am I REALLY?
I think I'm right.
I know I'm wrong.

My true love seems about as real as Spongebob Squarepants.
Did you think he's real??
Sorry...
But he's not.

Can somebody find ME somebody to love?
No?
Yes?
Nooo...????
YES!?!?
MAKE UP YOUR MIND ******!!!!

Maybe he is real?
Where is he?
Right in front of me?
Behind me?
Way ahead of me?
I wish he was beside me....

I don't want to be alone...
But maybe that's all I can do...
Or maybe that person is YOU! O.o
Ayeshah Mar 2010
I'm Having A Relapse
My muscles shaking my bones jarring
I'm stu- stu- stuttering,

I'm Having A Relapse
sleep walking while wide away,
dazed in a dream like state,
I need a fix I'm
itching- scratching
rubbing my hand and thighs

You, You you
oh why'd you do this to me
Screaming & tryna climb walls

I'm Having A Relapse

No no nooo don't stop
higher YESss Higher

bring me closer closure

I'm Having A Relapse
I went to the doctor to get help
He said He couldn't
Wouldn't help me is what He means
I run walk talk to myself
Help me Please!

Shaking, sweating,coughing with drive heaves
I feel so funny I can smell taste & feel it coming
I'm bursting with need Please
PLEASE release this desire
this fire which had consumed me,
Lived in my core my very being,

shut the blinds, turn off the lights,
I wont eat can't sleep,
Walking in a funk ,dazed and lonely
Don't hold me!!!!
Don't TOUCH !!!
Just give in Help me ,
Just um, Please
PLEASEEE,

Just Oh Lawd please
Just um  Baby Just
HELP MEEEEEE...........
YESSSSS!!!!!!!

**** ME!!!!

Until I can't  breath,

I need YOU.
you Oh You........
You know your the cause of me
Having A Relapse!

(*** Addiction Can hinder you or for me lol make love making so painfully good!)
Always me Ayeshah
Copyright ©Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Harsh Jul 2016
It's common knowledge that after getting a phone number,
one must wait three whole days before giving a call,
to make sure the interaction remains calculatedly casual,
as opposed to needy or uninterested,
which is complete cupid ****!
It's appalling that one's intense desire to contact an individual one is drawn to,
is not seen as a mere gesture of sentiment or affection,
but rather weakness and vulnerability.
Even in the darkest and drunkest hours
there will be no super likes,
for no one can afford to wear the heart on their sleeves,
in this world of left and right swipes.
The chase is so overrated not only does it never end,
but also overlooks the catch even when it's finally caught.
True feelings disguised by emojis concentrated into 140 characters
ridicule the ideology of love and romance,
when really we're nostalgic of the times,
we once murmured into brick sized cordless phones at wee hours in the morning,
"you hang up... nooo you hang up first..."
When did meeting the parents not become meeting the parents,
but rather the quick show of another chick to flaunt how well life is going at the moment?
When did compartmentalizing life mean pursuing romantic relationships over the weekends only?
When did to love, to want, to need, to show affection become such girly things,
those who are engulfed by romantic comedies and sensitivity did?
All I really want is to call you and tell you how much I miss you,
and just listen to you breath even if you don't have anything to say.
But, I guess I'll just wait for you to whatsapp me sometime during the weekend...
This poem is the sole property of me and cannot be copied or used without permission. [Copyright G.H. Rodrigo 27/07/2016]
zebra Nov 2020
***** addled eyes
glare bamba laya
dance monkeys
and thrill freaky
tinkling lady fingers
that glide rosy shaped bottle *****
for laden boughs
of wick and petrol mix.

she said
dont make me say 666
possum claw and dagger *****  
kissy talk
ooo nooo nooo
not the inflatable Jesus with silver fangs
that tears mercilessly
at my innocent trembling curves
and promiscuous spirit

her sighs and thighs
like flesh stellar nebula
opens curtsy ****
red mutating mouth
labyrinth of undulating petals
gasps spit and pearls

this swallowing scavenger
throat of spiral armed galaxies
like sails of fire 
yield wet lips 
while diamond eyes smoke
hounded moons
to lick summers perfume
menstruum's ****** tongue

drinking you
"The violence of censorship is more violent than the danger of *******"
Judith Butler
....
Judith Pamela Butler (born February 24, 1956) is an American philosopher and gender theorist whose work has influenced political philosophy, ethics, and the fields of third-wave feminist, queer, and literary theory. In 1993, they began teaching at the University of California, Berkeley, where they have served, beginning in 1998, as the Maxine Elliot Professor in the Department of Comparative Literature and the Program of Critical Theory. They are also the Hannah Arendt Chair at the European Graduate School.
Bardo Jul 2021
The town was quiet when the Poet rode in
Not a soul was to be seen
A dog barked somewhere and a door banged noisily in the wind,
He wore a long grey coat flecked with dirt and mud
Two buttons had been left undone and there through the opening could be seen, his gun!
His eyes they had a tired look as if looking out wearily on the world
As he moved up the street, curtains parted and nervous little eyes peeped out
Suddenly a door opened and a woman rushed out across the street
Behind a barrel outside the hardware store, a small boy... hiding!
She began to scold him. "Ah Ma! he protested, I just wanted to get a good look at him, see him up close"
"Quiet!" she commanded, then turning toward the Poet while shielding the boy
She said defiantly "Their bad! Their wicked evil men!
But the Poet just kept on going, riding on as if she wasn't there
His eyes fixed straight ahead,
Finally he stopped outside the saloon, dismounted, tied his horse to the hitching Post
Went inside, the spurs of his boots clanking on the floor as he walked
"What'll it be Stranger ?" offered the Bartender
"Gimme a whiskey", said the Poet,"an Irish whiskey"
At a table playing cards, some heads turned
Then there were some excited whispers
"Look! it's the Bardo Kid, the Bardo Kid!!!"
"What has you around these parts Stranger ?" asked the Barkeep inquisitively
"I'm looking for someone", answered the Poet, "goes by the name of... Zardo!"
Another man drinking at the bar suddenly began to splutter
As if his drink had gone down the wrong way
Bardo eyed him suspiciously
"Don't look at me Bardo, I'm not Zardo, Me! I'm Vargo"
"Well Vargo", said Bardo, "you seen Zardo around ?"
"I ain't seen Zardo Bardo" said Vargo
Then he quickly drained his glass and hurriedly left
Bardo watched him go.
"Whose looking for Zardo ?" came a voice suddenly from the stairs and the shadows
It was a woman's voice. It was Miss Lilly, the Saloon Madam, a mature lady, still pretty but who'd seen better days
She came down the stairs out of the shadows
Walked right up to the Poet
But then almost losing her breath in surprise
Almost as if she'd just seen a ghost
She said with a strange note of familiarity "Bardo!!!"
The Poet too, seemed taken aback
"Lilly!" he said a bit shyly and took off his hat,
They both stood there looking at each other for a moment
"You've gotten older Bardo... more worn, I'd hardly know you"
"Been a long time... I guess" replied the Poet awkwardly,
"Where... what...whatever happened to you... Bardo ?.... I often wondered".
It was a very disarming question, for a moment the Poet seemed lost for words
"I...I've been away... far faraway"
Then gathering himself he said with a tinge of bitterness
"What happened. Life happened I guess, dealt me a bad hand, I suppose I was never gonna measure up. It was inevitable wasn't it... me and this world
I could only have turned to a Life of...a Life of Rhyme"
Bardo looked at Lilly standing there in her tawdrily ostentatious red Saloon dress
Showing a bit of cleavage
Grown slightly plump now, with some grey strands through her hair
And crowsfeet starting to appear around her eyes, he asked sadly
"What happened to you... Lilly ?
For a moment she looked like she was going to cry.
"O! I do a bit of singin' ..dancin'... deal cards, serve drinks, and do a whole lot of listenin' to lonely men and their troubles, try to cheer them up and get them to buy some more drink, keep the party going.  That's the game anyway" she admitted almost ashamedly. Then she continued. "We seen some good times though, didn't we, you and I, once when we were younger, for awhile there we ran young and wild and free, didn't we ?"
"Yea, young and wild...and... and stupid" answered Bardo with regret.
"What's this... what's this about Zardo ? asked Lilly smiling, "remember you always used to like that name".
"He's been saying things about me, running me down... damaging my reputation
Says he's faster than I am, that he could take me anytime, says I'm nothing but trouble, that I'm a no good lowdown critter, said he's gonna bring me in one day soon.
I was curious about him, thought I'd maybe like to meet this person".
"But he's only young" replied Lilly defending him, " he was just shooting off at the mouth, you know young people, their full of arrogance and foolish pride. You know how Life twists people and makes them into something their not".
Bardo looked at her closely "Do you know him ?"
Lilly hesitated a moment, then said almost tearfully " He's my son Bardo".
"I never knew you had a kid" said Bardo very surprised.
Lilly looked Bardo right in the eyes and then confided "He's our kid Bardo... you remember that time, that Summer we had together, that brief moment in time when we found each other and we thought this world was ours" .
"Why didn't you tell me, why didn't you send word, you could have reached me, I would have come", said Bardo.
"O! You'd be so proud of him Bardo, he grew up to be strong and straight and true
He has a job here as a young Deputy now".
Suddenly they heard a commotion outside and then the batwing doors of the Saloon swung open
And in strode a lean figure wearing a Tin Star
It was...it was Zardo!!!
A big crowd had formed behind him, they were egging him on
"So!" he said looking straight at Bardo,"we meet at last, if it isn't the Great, The Bardo Kid
The Fastest Pen in the West
The Fastest Rhyming Couplets this side of the Pecos
I'm taking you in...Old-timer
Heh! You don't look so tough,
I bet I could take you easy".
Lilly tried to intervene "No son, you've got it all wrong !
"Stay out of this Mom !" he warned coldly, a bit embarrassed seeing her there
Then almost as if he'd just realized something very important he said angrily to Bardo
"What are you doing talking to my Mom ?
Why you ***** rotten varmint".
Lilly screamed "Nooo!!! "
Zardo drew first but Bardo was quicker
Before Zardo had got his gun out, Bardo's had already cleared his holster
Lilly cried "Please Bardo don't hurt my boy!!"
Bardo let off a whole barrage of shots
Zardo only got off one solitary shot
But strangely... strangely it was Bardo who dropped to the floor
Zardo stood there shaken and dazed
"How can I still be alive?" he said,"he was way faster than I was. And he fired so many shots, he couldn't have missed them all'.
Suddenly the Bartender let out a shout and pointed his finger
"Look!" he said in amazement, Look!  Look at the wall behind you"
They all turned and there on the wall behind Zardo, drawn in bullets... the outline of a little heart.
A bit like Red River this without the cattle LoL. I have to own up here and say. I had the first part of this written for a long time but couldn't do anything with it. But then one day I was remembering back and remembered I read a Western story one time as a child. The hero's name was Lane I think, Life had been unkind to Lane, he got into a lot of scrapes and developed a Bad Reputation. The story ended with him meeting his old childhood sweetheart and her telling him they had a child and he was now a Deputy. They then have a showdown, the Deputy son insults the Dad not knowing who he really is, Lane is quicker on the draw and draws a heart on the wall with his bullets. -I thought I'd try and put my own spin on it. Was never able to track that book down again.- And don't worry he only winged me LoL.
Tanvi Bird Sep 2014
To Begin...
There are things I feel that I need to express. Channeling my emotions this way is something I haven't done in a long time. Sometimes, when you feel that no one else understands or cares enough to understand, this is a good place to start.

I am a young, complex, sophisticated woman at a critical junction in her life. I know inside that everything will be okay, no matter what happens. I know that I have to constantly and consistently strive to be better in everything that I do. I know that no one else can make my dreams come true. I am a strong, proud woman.

I wish, that I didn't have to be so strong.

I've learned that the journey matters more than the destination. My boyfriend first told me this about a semester ago, when things were better between us. He was talking about our exercising goals, but I applied it everywhere. I held fast to his words of wisdom, like golden nuggets shifted and separated from dirt that the tide washed in.

He's right, you know. The journey matters more, especially because most people never reach their attempted destination. Sometimes, we half-assedly try. Most of us are too lazy or preoccupied to become successful quite the way we want, although some of us learn to make a compromised form of success. But that is life, you never know what happens next. The moment you begin to think you have it, you lose it. The moment you realize you have nothing, you find something that is beautiful yet unexpected. That is how it started between me and my guy.

Let me begin with our story. I still remember the moment he walked into that second floor Union building, with a somewhat shy, half naive smirk on his face, clumsily trailing behind his best friend Roney. I might have been wearing a sleeveless black top with small pink flowers, but I am not sure anymore. He was wearing over-washed, light blue jeans, black and white converse sneakers, a yellow shirt depicting a marijuana plant, a brown leather wrist bracelet. He had that amused look on his face, as if he was getting paid to be there. From the moment he walked in that door, I decided not to like him.

That day, I was assigned to handle our first "desi" meeting by myself. We had decided to start this impromptu organization, and they all decided I should be President for the obvious reasons. I was everyone's friend, they respected me, and took my advice. In a way, though they were my peers, they saw me as an elder. Although I made immature decisions in my own life, they saw some sort of leader in me, and I could bring people together. I was well liked, pretty, somewhat popular at one point, talkative, and convincing. I used to have a sparkle in my eyes when I talked, and people easily fell in love with me. Somehow my relationship with my ex-boyfriend had drained me totally. I didn't believe anymore, in anything. For the first time in my life, I was unsure of anything and I felt lost.

I wasn't confident, but that day I had to put on a face and pretend I could command a group of unruly, uncooperative south-Asian desi kids. I felt like I was losing control. He walked into the room, and headed for straight for a group of girls, Pooja and Sweety. No luck. Next, he introduced himself to a group of high school Caucasian girls. Maybe a little bit more hope there. At that time, I was so infuriated that this strange newcomer could frustrate my attempts to control the already unruly group, by flirting in the middle of an info session! "Guys--Quiet!!!!!" I remember trying to get their attention.

He remembers this story somewhat similarly. "You were the diva *****, the queen bee, and all your drones fluttering around to do your ***** work," as soon as he says it his mischievous face breaks into a warm, doting smile, and he quickly kisses my forehead. "I'm kidding, Jaan. Well..." I stare up at him, thinking about getting mad, but I also begin to laugh. Amused, he gathers me into his arms and holds me for a minute.

At first, I tried to dislike him for the mere fact that he was PKI, because one had hurt me before. Then one day, that didn't matter anymore-- G was mine. Just when life had begun to lose its appeal, and I didn't know who I was anymore, he walked into my life and breathed freshness into me. We looked perfect, we were perfect together, and we brought out the best in each other.

A winter flashback, before he left for his studies. "T, I don't ever want to lose you.... You are so perfect." We are sitting in his basement, cuddling in a brown, ethnic shawl. There was snow on the ground, that had fallen on the ground previous nights ago. I had assed my last law school exam of my first semester at W, Hakes Property final, so that I could rush into his comforting arms. He always told me that I can succeed. I knew I was smart, but he told me that I had a great head on my shoulders, and I could do the impossible. And eventually I would learn to believe him.

While we slugged our shots of whiskey and whatever else he managed to dig up, and as his older brother drank alone upstairs, we hugged each other, fearing what would happen to us.

The time he first told me he was leaving replayed over and again in my mind. It was earlier that morning when we first woke up. He didn't want to tell me the first night. "Did you cheat on me?" I had asked him, knowing he didn't. "No, T, never to you I would do that. You mean too much to me." "Well, do you have cancer?" "I wish, that would be easier to deal with." "Are you leaving the country-- flying to Pakistan and living there?," I laughed as I asked that last question, because it was impossible. "Nooo," he laughed with me, looking down. We had this same conversation on the phone every night he called me. "Well?" I waited for an answer. "Jaan, I will tell you in the morning. Tonight, you are all mine, just have faith in me."

The next morning he kissed me awake and held on to me as the sun rose. "Tell me." Fifteen minutes later, I burst into tears. As water endlessly gushed from my eyes and I blew my nose into his shirt, he quietly held me tight. It was that moment, I realized how much he really meant to me, and I to him. My feelings shocked me, but it pleased and pleasantly surprised him. For a few minutes, he teared up too before regaining his manly composure. "Jaan, we can get through this. We are strong. Nothing can come between us, and definatley not this. Just think of it as study abroad." I nodded and blinked back tears as he held me tightly to his chest. We laid there for most of the day, before going downstairs to dramatically drown our cute sorrows in the empty calories of alcohol.

Sometimes I replay these moments in my head, wondering what happened between us. Doesn't he like me anymore the way he used to? What happened to my G, the one who made me feel so happy and free. I wonder why he doesn't call. I wonder why he doesn't respond to my texts, or think about me. I wonder why he doesn't want to know how my week went, and how he doesn't listen to me anymore.

I think about asking him. Then I remember my futile attempts over the past summer, and him telling me I care too much about the semantics of our relationship, and that I am being too dramatic. I know for a fact that I am not being dramatic, but I stay quiet because I don't want to chase him away. I know I am not like other women. I am strong. No other women can put up with my man, because they could never be as strong minded and confident as me. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't so strong.

...The beautiful dream I once saw, etched in silver, on a quiet beach fades away the faster I walk towards it. As I finally catch up to it and open my hand, I realize I am holding only to plain, brown sand. I wish I could just know. I wish I could ask him what he wanted, why he quietly slips away like sand slips through the cracks in one's fingers. What happened to the glittering silver dreams, that danced and teased me on the shoreline? I wonder if I had imagined it all along, but I know better. I know somehow, somewhere in the distance, in a parallel dimension, it exists-- my beautiful silver dream. I can almost reach my hand out, and just grab it-- but I can't see it.

I still care about him, more than he would ever know. I would do anything for him, and always be there for him. I want to know why he is emotionally distant, whether he still has feelings for me, or if he is trying to force feelings for me. He knows I am strong. He knows no matter how badly I hurt inside, I won't ever show it. I will hold my head up high, and smile as confidently as the day he met me. I wish he could know that he means the world to me. I wish he could tell me how he felt- even if it hurt me, I would prefer the truth. I wish he would have enough courage to talk to me.

I am afraid that if things go unsaid, one day we will never talk again. I want to grab him, shake him, and ask him, "Has everything changed for you, or should I leave?" I want him to know that I would never judge him, after all he will always be mine in a way. I want him to know that I can handle it, and whether as a good friend or an enchanting mystery that exists in a parallel dimension, I will always be in his life, if he wants me there.

I want him to know that if he doesn't want me in his life, I will quietly leave forever- like a dream once dreamt that never came true. Because I care about him -  for him I will be strong. I want to ask. But I am afraid to speak.
Written in late 2011.
Check my frequency static stations easily
See haters after me cuz I invoke catastrophe
To all of my adversaries backed by hells army
Y'all can't harm me turning ****** into barbie
Dolls catch ya slippin' in the bathroom stalls guess death answered yo
Call still holding my ***** ******* to the laws
Raw as **** uncut lyrics made to gut
MC jaggernaut and what not? Strategized with plots
You can tell I'm from Houston cuz I rap alot
Smoke a few glocks that'll make  bodies rock
Hearse flow see how many I can make go
Six feet below my beef is eternal inferno
Feel the temperature rise in my
eyes
Ruthless forever as an outlaw so I'm destined to rise
Double my size fools need to
realise
My raps untouchable say y'all killers but NOOO?
******' with me you'll be sleepin' with blood on the floor
I'm ******* like nineteen ninety six deep in the mix
Watch for the snakes in the pit they nothin' but culprits
Mad at me cuz my money ain't spent ahhh ****
Another hit made by the ***** King Tut cut
Off my loyalties cuz they undercover enemies
Hidden tactics improvise my
  Machivelli
Skills gettin' them kills ending weak
  wills
Now I just signed your bills and still
We the rawest
regardless **** any other hating *** artist
We polish 'em
By a landslide makin' casket hides it's suicide
Tryna step to the Southside mafiaso
So
back back before you get ya wig pushed back
My raps more addictive than street crack
Giving the fiends an ear dose til they overdose
From playin' to close to the devil's playground
Though his son in law keep the lyrics raw
This is the styles of an immortal Texas outlaw
Letting off my lyrical shells makin'
hell
**** being carried by six I'd rather go be judged
by a panel of twelve well???
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Incantation
Strange was the night the harvest moon would serve as the pumpkin dark foreboding grips his heart as he walked what evil brewed
There were those recurring stories they were filled with mist had a groggy affect you slipped between the calm to the terrifying
Was it true did it really happen he was set to find out he always fancied himself as an investigator one who could probe the stewed
First he must find his way into the incandescing glow there he would separate fact from fiction at the very door of Haitian voodoo

He was set to meet Papa Legba he was in the form of an old man the gate keeper to the spirits and their world nonsense or truth
An old grass shack was where he had been instructed to go he entered saw a few ceremonial items setting on a crude altar
One thing for sure this god was not rich but devilment requires not earthen wealth but the souls of it followers behold the sooth
This babbler this one who transfixes minds on moon lit nights weaves the web no one will ever escape from and why would they

Come to this foreign chasm an opening that invites ever yawning behold its misteh mysteries dare not be afraid you will be wise
Here the weak are made strong the dead assist the living feel the cold clammy hand that desires to engulf you just surrender
The candles they will bring bondje or bon diea French for good god see him coming from the water under the sea oh great one rise
Tell us your humble servant what to do to own the night never to be frightened again by any circumstance you are foresworn as victor

Get on with it face your enemies send forth the vestiges of confusion the essence of delusion they will unknowingly do your bidding
It comes like a tidal wave the power oh what sway it holds you in its dark embrace moods enliven oh how it pervades stunning
There are no bounds no end this was what you were created for rifle the world all contents of moral chains forgotten are you kidding
One small thing our agreement has a catch put forth your hand the ceremonial knife must sacrifice tonight I’m the only one here nooo

Voodoo has mystery one to die for look well into your own soul on this evil Halloween night
Jessica Leigh Jun 2014
Oh
Yeah
mmmmmmmmmmmm

You know you love me, I know you care
Just make whale sounds whenever, and I'll be there
You are my significant other, you are my heart
And we will never ever ever be apart

If I was your wife, I'd never let you make out in the Ann Frank House
Keep you on my arm, you'd never be alone
I can be your Thigh, anything you want
If I was your wife, I'd never let you make out in the Ann Frank House, I'd never let you make out in the Ann Frank House

Girlie, girlie, girlie mmmmmmmmmmmm
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like girlie, girlie, girlie mmmmmmmmmmmm
I thought you'd always be mine (mine)

When I met you girlie my Hamstring went whale noise
Now them Iguanas in my Neck won't stop stop
And even though it's a struggle love is all we got
So we gonna keep keep fluffing to the mountain top

There's gonna be one more Hamstring going whale noise
One more Hamstring going whale noise
One more Hamstring going whale noise

Your Spine, my biggest weakness
Shouldn't have let you know
I'm always gonna do what they say (hey)
If you need me
I'll come groping
From a thousand miles away
When you grow beards at McDonalds I grow beards at McDonalds (oh whoa)
You fly big red dragons, I fly big red dragons
Hey

Na na na, na na na, na na mmmmmmmmmmmm
Yeah significant other
Na na na, na na na, na na na mmmmmmmmmmmm
If I was your wife
Na na na, na na na, na na na mmmmmmmmmmmm
Na na na, na na na, na na na mmmmmmmmmmmm
If I was your wife

My friends say I'm a fool to think
That you're the one for me
I guess I'm just a skanky fool for my girlie

Uhh ohhh
Oh my, ohhh MY
What is he doing to me
Electricity lighting up my body
Places throbbing like never before
Blushing profusely
Unable to speak except to say
Ahhhhh, mmmmms, oooooo, yessss!

Oh MY what is happening to me
His hands are like magic
Creating a world of pleasure
Unknown world to me
Having never felt anything like this
Oh no please don't let me embarass myself
Please let me resist his touch a little longer

OMFG
Suddenly my body convulses
Fire shoots through my veins
I feel the nectar of my tight pleasure well flowing forth
Breathing stopped as eyes watch the white sparks behind them
Bucking to his touch
The ****** so total  and consuming
Nothing ordinary about this one

Yet He does not stop
His hands continue to move
Touching places that should not feel ******
mmmmmm,, ohh pleaseeee

Please what? He asks

Face turns crimson as I turn trying to hide it
Muscles drawn tautly
Fighting each stroke of my wet *****

Pleaseeee....don't        don't stop  I said

Nooo I meant to say please stop didn't  I?
What must he think of me at this point
I notice him moving but was unaware of what he was up to
Suddenly his face was breathing hot upon the dew lauden petals
Writhing beneath his arms that hold my hips still
His arms trap my legs as they are parted wide

Shaved lips soaked
The smell oh the smell
Seems strong to me but all I hear

MMmmmm woman you smell so sweet  He said
Like peaches and vanilla He breathed softly

Body struggles to get away
Pleasure pearl is hard and throbbing
Suddenly his mouth surrounds the hard nub
I feel his lips tighten as He pulls as He nips and *****

Mary Mother of God I cried
Unable to keep still
Hips swaying lifting up towards his hot beautiful mouth
Needing to feel more
Begging that He not stop

He continues as I feel the precious liquid flowing between the cheeks of my ***
He slowly slides ******* deep into that tight tunnel and begins to stroke the soft flesh part towards the top
MMMMmmms, mmmm ohhhhh yessss yesss sYEEEESSSS

I hear him chuckle as he hears my response
His words comforting as he tells me to let loose and not hold back
He suckles down ******* my now tender ****
******* massaging that ******
The something I was totally unprepared for

His finger slid deep into my ***
Bucking wildly
Screaming out as the ****** ripped through my body
Juices burst free of my tight tunnel soaking his fingers
Fingers digging deep into the bedspread

OHHHHHH MYYYYYY
Panting as I can't breathe
The intensity so overwhelming tears fall from the corners of my eyes
He continues to pet and stroke me slowly
Bringing me down easily

I was gone for awhile
My brain was mush
Thighs quivered
Eyes closing

I did feel him remove his fingers
His tongue licking up the sweet taste of me
I felt him move up to lay beside me
Encircling me in his arms
His hands roaming over my hair

Every now and again my body would tremble
Jump then tremble again
Mind blown like never before
What just happened I wondered
I dare not ask
At this point I didn't care

Suddenly there was a clap of thunder
I woke up in a damp sweat
******! It was just a dream
I got up to go to the bathroom
Copius amounts of fluid drained down my thighs

Or was it a dream?
WRitten by Jennifer Humphrey  all rights reserved
judy smith Feb 2017
Leading fashion stylists and casting directors have been directed by clients to avoid doing business with Trump Models, a company that promotes itself as “the brainstorm and vision of owner, Donald Trump”, several sources have told the Guardian.

Trump Models refused to comment, but according to its Twitter feed several models had made it on to the catwalk. News of such directives comes during New York fashion week, days after the president used Twitter to condemn the retailer Nordstrom for dropping his daughter Ivanka’s clothing brand, claiming poor sales.

According to one leading casting director who spoke to the Guardian on condition of anonymity, directives to avoid using models represented by Trump Modelsbegan last fall, before the presidential election. They then spread by “word of mouth”, the casting director said.

The effectiveness of any de facto boycott is hard to gauge. Trump Models, founded in 1999, is not considered a big player in the fashion business.

“It’s not a great agency, so it’s not such a big loss,” said the casting director, who was not authorised to speak on behalf of their client.

A French fashion stylist, who also requested anonymity, said she was reluctant to engage with a business that would put money in the pocket of the Trump family. When asked if they would use Trump models during fashion week, she replied simply: “Nooo!”

“People certainly look twice if a Trump model comes for a casting,” said another leading American stylist. “But a boycott wouldn’t necessarily be a big loss to the business.”

A third stylist, a prolific veteran in the industry, said he hoped there was a boycott on the Trump agency but added that “if there was a girl I wanted, I wouldn’t mind if she was represented by Attila the ***”.

On Thursday, the fashion website Refinery 29 reported that hairstylist Tim Aylward had vowed to stop working on jobs that involved “talent” from Trump Models.

Trump Models once represented first lady Melania Trump, and currently represents dozens of models from all over the world. It also runs a division for “legends”, including Paris Hilton and Carol Alt.

The agency, which claims to be at “the forefront of cultivating a wide range of innovative and vibrant talent which personify the trends of the fashion industry”, has faced claims of mismanagement.

Last year, Canadian model Rachel Blais told CNN some managers at the agency had encouraged her to skirt US visa laws. “As a model, one of the things you learn quite quickly is that … you shouldn’t ask too many questions,” Blais said. “If you want to work, you have to do as you’re told. Yet you’re kind of aware that it’s not legal.”

Last year, Canadian model Rachel Blais told CNN some managers at the agency had encouraged her to skirt US visa laws. “As a model, one of the things you learn quite quickly is that … you shouldn’t ask too many questions,” Blais said. “If you want to work, you have to do as you’re told. Yet you’re kind of aware that it’s not legal.”

Blais was also one of four women who described their experience with Trump Models to Mother Jones. The women said they were forced to live in squalor in a crowded apartment in the East Village of New York City.

The women said the apartment contained multiple bunks, for which models paid $1,600 each, and housed up to 11 people at a time. “We’re herded into these small spaces,” one former model said, saying the apartment “was like a sweatshop”.

The then vice presidential candidate Mike Pence told CNN he was “very confident that this business, like the other Trump businesses, has conformed to the laws of this country”.

In court papers filed in 2014, Trump model Alexia Palmer said she was promised full-time work and $75,000 a year. She sued after earning just $3,880 and some modest cash advances for 21 days of work over three years.

“That’s what slavery people do,” Palmer told ABC News in March 2016. “You work and don’t get no money.”

Trump attorney Alan Garten said allegations of being treated like a slave were “completely untrue” and said Palmer had simply not been in demand. The suit was dismissed. Laurence Rosen, a lawyer who represented Trump Models in the case, told the Guardian his firm “is not handling any other lawsuits or claims concerning model representation, nor am I aware that any such lawsuits or claims have been asserted” against Trump Models.

Shannon Coulter, of the Trump boycott movement #grabyourwallet, said Trump Models had not been added to its list of Trump-owned or affiliated businesses because it was not a consumer-facing business.

“What we’re seeing is that the Trump name is becoming truly toxic,” she said. “It seems that people can’t get away from the Trumps fast enough now. I think those casting directors and stylists are making the right call not doing business with them.”

Coulter rejected the suggestion that a boycott of Trump Models might end up hurting the working models it represents, rather than the owners of the business.

“When you chose not to do business with a company,” she said, “you chose to do business with other companies that do have employees, too, so I don’t put stock in that.”

Amid continued questions about Trump’s relationship with his business empire and how it fits with federal ethics regulations, Trump-owned fashion interests have suffered adverse publicity.

On Saturday, retailers Sears and Kmart removed 31 Trump Home items from their online product offerings to focus on more profitable items, a spokesman said. The collection includes furniture, lighting, bedding, mirrors and chandeliers.

Last week, retailer Nordstrom followed Macy’s and Neiman Marcus in dropping Ivanka Trump products. That prompted a furious response from Trump, whotweeted: “My daughter Ivanka has been treated so unfairly by @Nordstrom.”

Nordstrom justified its decision, reporting that online sales of Ivanka Trump products fell 26% in January year on year.

Within the fashion industry, there is speculation that while the performance of Ivanka Trump’s line was disappointing, it was not enough to merit being abruptly dropped.

At least part of the reasoning, they speculate, was pressure from other brands and labels carried by Nordstrom.

“We would not base a decision on that. Our decision was based on the performance of her brand which had been steadily declining over the year. We had discussions with Ivanka and her team and shared our decision with Ivanka personally in early January.”

However, Coulter said it was likely Nordstrom had faced pressure from other suppliers. “The Ivanka Trump sales were down but it’s possibly not the whole truth. There are studies that say boycotts work at the brand level, not the sales level, so probably both forces were at play.”

White House counselor Kellyanne Conway later urged the public to buy the Ivanka Trump brand – and faced widespread criticism that she had overstepped ethics regulations. The White House press secretary, Sean Spicer, said Conway had been “counseled”.

On Saturday, Trump said on Twitter that the media had “abused” his daughter.

In New York, protests against the Trump presidency have rippled through the fashion industry’s market week. Calvin Klein played David Bowie’s This is Not America and a Mexican immigrant designer for LRS Studio showed underwear that carried the message: “**** your wall”. Public School’s Dao-Yi Chow and Maxwell Osborne sent out red Trump-esque baseball hats spelling out: “Make America New York.”

Senior industry figures, including Vogue’s Anna Wintour and LVMH chief executive Bernard Arnault, have, however, held meetings with the president. Vogue plans to feature Melania Trump on its cover.

Designers including Dior and Ralph Lauren have dressed the first lady. Others, including Marc Jacobs, have said they will not.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses
Beautiful Shame Jul 2014
She never had the best life.
Her brother used to always beat on her.
So at a young age she experienced the feelings of worthlessness.
As she grew up her parents taught her wrong, encouraged bad behavior, that's my girl they would say.
When puberty hit, she wasn't just that wild child anymore.
Now she was a downhill spiral.
She no longer knew self-control, or common morals.
She met drugs & "fun" friends.
Together they experienced different practices.
Few were good.
And now she walks around like she's in a rush, like a stiff, frantic, paranoid person.
You know what I'm trying to say.
A crack head.
NO!
NOO!
NOOO!
Where did that beautiful, innocent little girl go?
Why couldn't you have been strong?
Why did you have to change?
Why did you never like yourself the way you were?
Why did you give up?
I LOVED YOU!!!
You were precious!
You ruined yourself.
But the question that hurts the most, is did you overdose on purpose......?
I Hate drugs.
Cold rain falls
Patters on my head
I look to the sky
My eyes turn red
Flickering pupils
Dilated so wide
I tear off my shirt
Embracing skies tide
I open my mouth
To catch some raindrops
Tasteless liquids
Nothing makes the pain stop
Collected water boils inside
My mouth once dry
It's now a simmering ***
The demons inside me
Make everything hot

Deep inhalation of fresh air
I understand why I'm here now
I'm no longer scared
Steam streams out of my body
My hands are on fire, my lips tingle
I look to my left, a lamppost glows
I turn to my right I see people mingle
Outside a late night cafe, their life simple
A bus stop ahead with two people there
A man and woman, he touches her hair

I place the palm of my hand on the lampost
Just to lean and wonder how I'm here
The shade bursts and sparks fly
The woman at the bus stop screams
"Nooo I don't want to dieeee"
As the fluorescent lights fizzle and pop
The man she's with falls to his knees
Grasps his head "no please make it stop"
The small group of people freeze
Outside the cafe they violently fit
I don't know what's happening
I assume it is me doing this
I try to let go of the lamppost beside me
Pulling my arm with the other hand

I finally break free
I too now fall to my knees
Getting up is hard
My joints creek
With mechanical movements
I go over to see
The couple at the bus stop
The girl lays on the floor now
I shake her but she is surely dead
Her eyeballs have melted to red goo
The man still firmly grasping his head
Looking at him I don't know what to do
He chants repeatedly in words unheard

The people outside the restaurant
They're all still fitting
People are with them now from inside
I step backwards in to the bus shelter
Fear surges through me again
My conscious spirals a helter-skelter
Trying to hide from the people outside
Hearing sirens now my eyes dilated wide
I'm clueless as to what has happened
Panicking I run past the lamppost
Glancing at it as I pass
A dark black hand print is melted in
.
.
.
.
.
I have never written anything like this.
Your criticism will be greatly appreciated.
Jellyfish Dec 2016
We stand there laughing
As lobsters are fighting
I suggest their plotting
some kind of escape?!

You tell me nooo,
they're definitely fighting.

We stand and watch it out.

I lean against you and smile
at this tank in the store.

Then we move on
and continue to explore.
Aditya Roy Sep 2017
It’s over bank robber
Your lyrics are there
Left on this parchment right here
You writing tomes seems unfair

Dugging down the basement
Finding another excuse
From this harassment
To parental ostentation
And leaders to ****** road-side cheaters

Nooo the lyrics are permanently damaged
They really can’t be fixed
Due to sub-standard homework ticks
Leading me to lose my patience
Over false appreciation
Of my kitsch

Took me a while to really understand
My childhood and becoming a dude
To get really good
To finally understand why you brood
You know success gets you ahead
Now you’ve left me for the dead

Nooo get set get wet
Get the typewriter checked
After all the things you’ve said
I feel like my lines were only meant for ****

Nooow I’ve finally got something
Too get a groove on
Using a dude
Might sound a bit crude
You better get a move on

Time to learn some honesty
I better get out of my fantasy
That you aren’t my competition
You are my only enemy
My tribute to Bob Dylan. Except I want to get better.
Lynda Kerby Jun 2014
I like Stephen King
Not for his plot twists of horror
But for how he notices the very real
Human tics
And ideosyncrasies that every posess
Making us unique
Just like everyone else
He would notice
Let's say, something like;
The bored housewife
Sitting at her kitchen table
Drinking coffee with one hand
And hitting on a joint with the other
Like she's reciting rosary
To E.L.O.'s  "Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, don't bring me down,Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, Don't bring me down, , no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
Nooo-oooooh-oh
(I tell you once more before I get off the floor don't bring me down)
Bruce...

His next sentence jolts us
The bored housewife's ceiling
Would then fall down
Crashing down
On top of her
Smashing her skull
Buried under drywall and brick
Gotta love the details

But afterwards
Will the once bored housewife
(As well as you and I and Stephen King?)
Be given a test?

What Did You See?
What Did You Learn?
What Did You Do?

Did You Get It??

Will we need to sharpen number two pencils?
A mortalist?

We live here but once
Stephen King
Bored housewives
You and me
Jamie L Cantore Feb 2017
I was told by A"shrink"LAST month that I had Hypermania because I talk faster than the average Joe or Jane. I said, you know, some people read faster than average too. People speak at a speed they are comfortable with. If they don't want to make mistakes during speaking, they tend to speak at the speed they read at or maybe a bit slower. I on the other hand happen to speak fluent gibberish, because I am a virtual speed-reader of *******, so I have a go at it comfortably. Just joking, I don't read *******. I will admit I should slow down when doing a Poetry Reading though, because you shouldn't rush through such. It's kind of like hauling *** on a motorcycle on the scenic route while on a weekend cruise to relax. Anyway, to top off this he claimed another qualifier for my Hypermania was that in my writing to him I was in such a hurry that I "accidentally" wrote abstruse when I obviously wanted to write abstract. I said, "Nooo, I meant to write abstruse." It is a word. It just so happens that one of the definitions of abstract is abstruse -ha ha. But he didn't know that until I told him. Abstruse- Difficult to understand. It's a word, Doc. Ha ha, WordDoc.

You told me you thought I had an extensive vocabulary in the first 5 minutes of meeting with me, so why would you assume it more likely that I ******* up so grossly on a word, than consider the possibility of a word existing without having crossed your eyes or ears? Lol You got a picture in your head of his eyes crossed, didn't you? Me too. ;)

But yeah, I was  "hypomanic" during the observation. Shhh... Even a broken clock is right twice daily.
Pompous Doctrine about a pompous doc
CLARYT Feb 2019
"Sleep when you're dead",
"Oh come on, liven up",
"What?? Nooo, please come",
"One two three drink!!",
"Snap out of it!",
"What's wrong this time??",

These and more, are phrases used by you "normal" people, in a ploy to entrance us very special, very unique, very very awesome people who have a condition known as depression.....
We'll sleep when we want to,
We'll liven up when our brain chemicals allow us to,
We'll come along when, or if we have the confidence to,
Don't.. Don't ever tell us to do that,
And, what's wrong?, if you knew us at ALL, you'd refrain from asking that question!,

Think on normals, we have feelings ya know!
# understanding # respect #love #empathy
(c)eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 2019
Elihu Barachel Dec 2014
You will burn in Hell, for all eternity
Burning red hot coals, grief and agony
-
Were you a ******* *****? Drug dealer of a thief?
Nooo…a lovey dovey “Christian”, “faith” was your motif
-
You were goody-goody, every Sunday went to church
Ha! Is that so? Your religion is a smirch
-
Pray tell explain, why you don’t know ****
“Goyim” is a word, that best does you befit
-
Do you have a Bible? Or diarrhea on a page
Can you discern? Will THE TRUTH assuage?
-
Unless you have the KJV, the book you have is ****
New translations are corrupt, more than a little bit
-
Hey lovey-dovey “Christian”, does this matter? Do you care?
You’re religious ****, of you I will beware
-
Not only are you ****. Your “gospel” is a fake
Your Jesus [1] is so too, in Hell you’ll burn and bake
-
You will get to prove [2], if you are Elect
Or a *******, in a condemned sect

[1] 2nd Cor 11:4
[2] Rev 16:2 & Rev 14:10
Mr Xelle Apr 2016
Ohh nooo!!
If they don't wanna stay they can goo!!
It seems love don't live here anymore
I find my self walking alone
Singing "I love you".


For me
For you
Pray about the same ol' soul
Til my knees are bleeding cold
I do
Love you
..it's true.

Lyre
calls me
I thought you was gunna show!
But I waited just to long.
Is it cool
If I just don't move..?
My love I tried like..


Ohh nooo!!
If they don't wanna stay they can goo!!
It seems love don't live here anymore
I find my self walking alone
Singing "I love you"
chris Jan 2017
you never left me no messages
        no mails
             no calls
Nameless Mar 2016
"The people around me,
They don't know yet.
they don't know..."
That you're the only one...
"Only one---- only one--"
-Look AT US!!!
"I DO!!!"
WE ARE REAL
      I cover my face,
I've started rocking again.
... Something to sooth an infant,
so why not me?
Because 'we' are here
No...
Say it, where WE can hear you
"no... No... NO! NOOO, No---- no, no, no."

I feel my fathers hands on my shoulders
shaking me, awake.
Another nightmare, I hear.
He holds me in his arms,
drenched in fear and sweat.
They've gone...
Left me alone,
soon dad will too...
Even for a short time---
Just long enough for me
to catch
a glimpse
of *'Her'*
Donall Dempsey Jun 2017
JOLLY GOOD SHOW

All day
stuck up this ****** tree

in the middle of ****** nowhere.

All the landscape
shrunk to this crossroads

like the cross-hairs
on a gun sight

brings the distance
into focus.

“****** Nora! ”
He swears to himself and laughs.

His mother’s name was Nora.

Always thought it was hilarious
to swear by her.

Remembers one time as a boy
swearing at her:

“And eh by gum
she didn’t half hit me hard! ”

“Blood seeping through the gum
still taste the taste of it on my tongue
****** ‘orrible it was!

Hated her ever since.”

“Now, look whatcha made me done! ”
she hollered at him.

“Yes…sorry our Mum! ”

He didn’t dare cry
‘cos she’d hit for crying!

“She was a hard one…our Mum!
Had to be with us ****** lot!

She were fun though when she were happy! ”

He hoped to God
that his man would come

so he could **** him
and be done.

Didn’t know him
from Adam

(leader of the insurgents
capable of getting men around him) .

“Dangerously charismatic! ”

Better dead
to keep the British peace alive

as the Empire lay dying.

The sun setting
dying him a golden brown.

“If he don’t come soon
I won’t have the light to **** him.”

“Remembering shooting game with our Dad
rabbit…pheasant...up ‘eath in sunlight

. . .such as this.”

The dangly ****** rabbit
turning into next night’s stew

eating a celebration
of what you can do

- do well...****.

How he came to be
here

up a ****** gum tree
gun in hand…staring

waiting for a man to ****.

Same ****** thing.
Simple ****** plan!

Waiting 3 days now
and no man.

“Keep your position ...over.”
“Maintain radio silence.”

“Report in when job done.”
“Roger ok that...over & out.”

“Eager to get job done so I can go ****** ‘ome!”

“Didn’t believe it myself
until I seed it! ”

Dot in the distance
translating itself into a man.

Just enough light left
for killing.

“And now, put out the light
...put out the light! ”

He muttered to himself.

****** Othello!
The only Shakespeare he knew.

“A lass I once knew
A real brain & chatter box! ”

“I only ever wanted to get into her knickers
& the only way to do so was to listen…so I listened.”

“Trying to teach ****** me Proper English
and she ****** well Scottish!

****** cheek!
...och aye...but nooo! ”

The crossroads funnel him into
the killing spot

“Trot trot trot trot!
like Noyes’s THE HIGHWAYMAN!

Noyes! No...yes!

Why think of
Majorie Wallace and her ****** poetry now!

No poetry in killing
just plain ****** prose.

Dead is dead is dead.

A blown rose
fading on the periphery of his vision.

The cross-hairs
come to rest

like a deadly spider
on the rider’s face.

He’s ****** grinning.

The man doesn’t even know
he’s already dead!

Won’t even know what’***** him!

(Probably thinking of a sweetheart
and getting her into ****** bed)

Just like I am.

Just the gentlest of squeezes

like stroking a lassie’s ****
(Oh Marjorie ****** Wallace!)

Then - that’s it!
The rifle spits and speaks

in the language of the dead

and only one man understands
what’s said.

And where there was a head
there is now no head.

You see it only
for the briefest of seconds

and can’t really believe it!

How the head blossoms!

Like a sudden flower
and then fades

in that
instant.

Mindless now...

he plucks the faded rose
(or whatever it is it’s called around here)

reminds him of
England.

Pops it into
an amo pocket.

Good clean ****.

Head shot – one shot.

Tries to pretend...
but it always hits him hard

taking a closer look
at his handiwork.

Kicks the body:
“You poor stupid ****** ******! ”

“A man no less a man
than I am...”

Faceless.

Lying there
in the dirt
as he were only having a kip.

Becoming dirt.

Breaks radio silence:
“Come and ****** well pick me up! ”

“Jolly well done! ”

The radio cackles back.

“Jolly good show! ”
I got purple haze in my brain
things just aint the same
im never excited i dont know why?
Excuse me while i kiss this high

Purple haze staring all around
dont know if im up off gravity
or on the ground

Too **** high in this worldly game
i feel the evilness in my veins
never satisfied til i explore my brains
cuz lately things just look the same

Purple haze a hit feels like many days
Radiate my soul like sun beam rays
Urgin' for a crave
whatever it is that chick put a spell
on me
  

Oooo oooooo oooooo nooo
yeaaaaaaaa

I cant go on like this .this got me in a trip
im going ludicrous
Bradley A Peters Mar 2014
it's 5 am, and i'm the loneliest i have ever been.
this used to be different, i mean i should seriously be asleep right now, but
there is an intensity that is BUILDING up inside me, i feel it boiling over and my insides, they can't take the heat.
i don't know how anyone can feel like this, but this is the only place i know where to start..

and god i wish i could remember what started this feeling, what lit the fuse, but now i am a time bomb, and i am scared that i will lose.
lose everything i love, and lose this game i'm in,
i really don't understand though, i believe we have all have sinned.
so what makes me different, what makes me so bad?
is this just cause myself was the only thing i had?
and now i have it all, and i have the tools to succeed,
but i can't ******* bring myself to do it, i am helpless on my knees.

god will you help me?
isn't that a ******* joke,
like seriously we are alone,
and i know you have always known,
but back to the subject at hand,
i'm going ******* crazy, and i keep trying to understand.
i can't sleep at night, and there is a ghost in my room,
nooo, not the kind that haunts you, the kind that scares you to a fool.
and he whispers that i am nothing, softly in my ear

but guess what, he is nothing, i am just making that up.


you probably think i am crazy by now, but see if i give a ****

because i know you can relate, because everyone has it
the fear in their head, and i know you can't shake it

so just take one thing with you, after you finish my text
remember that i finished this,  at 5:06 am, and i probably am still depressed.
hopefully you can relate.
Sharde' Fultz Mar 2017
Im not gon' write a poem about you.
Uh uh.
I'm not about to allow you to make me FEEL
And allow you to fill
Me up
In such a way that my subconscious has to throw you up and onto a page
Nope
I'm not about to write a poem for you
Nooo siree, you see I've made that mistake
Prior.

When I was young and silly and hopeful.

I went and bought a fancy pen
The kind that writes so smoothly and makes my cursive extra pretty, but you know it bleeds?

I thought the ink that dripped from MY pen once it soaked through
It would sort of seal  us in the paper
Like I said, I was mistaken so
No.

I'm not about to write a poem for you TOO

And just leave myself exposed?
I mean who knows
if I replace those little tiny "o"s for hearts over my "i"s when I dot em that soon you could care less
For the stress on my esteem after you're mean leaving the apples of my cheeks with salty tears streaming down them
So naw'l
I refuse to tell the world how you made me blush when your lips found them.
Or how we had so much in common
It was raining but we just kept walking
You made me laugh until I was coughin'
I ain't gonna do it
I've learned its better to not let you soften-

my heart

But instead I mold bricks
cause it seems noone wants to actually bring any GOOD to it.
Seems 9 times out of ten all they want to DO
Is to do IT
when all I want is you to put
my hand in yours and stare into my eyes and search my heart and not my thighs
I'm not gonna try

And make this something more than what is was.

Just because of what I felt the warm and fuzz of flirty words spoken over Patty melts?
It was nice.
But I dont think that warrant's you a poem.

Not an admonition of my humanness
Not another proclamation of my foolishness

for allowing myself to think,
dare  I say hope
that those two hours of my precious life were 2 not wasted?
And Not worth the energy for me to store the memory
in the best way made for me to preserve it?
A poem?
How am I supposed to know that you deserve it?

But how can I resist within that moment?

After reflectin' on my day I find my mind keeps
pressing replay
on those two hours in Ferndale
And how we talked until nightfell.
Forgot to feed the meter cause what is time?
Hell I was frozen by you, guy.
I digged my nose into your life and just kept goin.
  
You had the audacity to inquire about my dreams and all my passions
and what makes me get up outta bed every morning

So I HAD to ask you back

And I listened
And I enjoyed what you said
And as we parted ways I had to immediately LIE
and document it in my head
Under "non-important"

It was nice

But don't let yourself get excited

Felt like I was on cloud 9 but gotta hide it
Come off the high
Cause what if in the end it's unrequited?

and I'm upset with you
Regretting you
No.
HATING you for letting me feel slighted
Yeah you tried it.

I mean YOU didn't.

At least not yet...

I just don't wanna write another poem that I'll want to forget.
Molly Oct 2019
The cult ran our dances
They ruined
Ruined!  My memories!
My High School Experience

I wanted a
normal winter formal
that the school put on
But noooooo
The cult
The religious
Messed with my school experience

Plus they wouldn’t even let me join the cult
**** all the beautiful ****** in jobs daughters.  Which you couldn’t do.
Girls ask the Guys

No sponsor to get in
Mom find me someone!!
We have to be related somehow
Or we could lie...
I just wanted to be like my best friend.


Ancestral blood magic
They’re running everything.
Well, I’m gonna burn something
To release this.
I can’t?

Meghanne
Who is in charge?
A man without a name
The Shriners

They’re in charge
The pub
Nooooooo
You like Mike
It’s not the other one
beautiful building
And the upstairs...
You only had a dream about it
Haven’t had a party there, yet.
Not time

It’s a good place
It’s Hibbing
It doesn’t belong to them
Michael
The same name as my brother
Magic protects us


Getting old or
We all die in the Apocalypse
8 years to go
#Gretaistheshit
The last test
We have 8 years to Master this

When you’re rich you might want to
Buy him out
Well.  
Idk, if I want to be a ‘bar person’
Just owning bars

Too tacky
False
Thoughts

Made the girls ask the boys
But never got over social anxiety
Sadie Hawkins would of been lame
They had an original name

Okay they’re a good organization
The cult of the Nazis
Only the pure get in
Exactly, this is what you’re up against.
America gave them all our great 3

Your dream of them last
Night
Darkness
Blood no wrong
Redness around the nursery
Sense
The darkness
His darkness
Is getting strong

The war is on
F.e.a.r.
A dream of your fears of them
Not the ones who joined
The ones who run it
Feeling a little Old Testament
Again

Drive around in silly cars
Don’t be scared we’re friendly
Evil sorcerers
We donate to charity?
Not good enough

A boys and girls club
No one gets in Alive
Next reincarnation
Hence, why I almost died, because
Of you,
And, your organization
Suicide
Not true=trying to shame you

Then
I get into your blood cult
Maybe who knows
Your Bible
Isn’t the only magic out there
They’re other Chinese gods
Were all warning
You

Gods live inside me
Or so my DNA thinks

The DNA that makes yours
Look weak

See this is a ******* stupid cult
No inclusion
Christ
Would be disappointed

That’s the point you satan worshipers
All you car about is yourselves
And your money
And your families too
What your prayers can get you
Namaste
Witches

Free Masons
What your buildings bring you
Darkness lives inside of you
Locked in
Prison

Same as me
Nooo
I hate money
Tied down
Planet
Born Aug 2017
I was here
When you wrote a fully encrypted poem
Words wrapped in heavy firewalls
Decryption code hidden in time
Looping through ages of wisdom

Greek written in plain English
that's what ordinary us see
Codes that can't be deciphered
alluded as metaphors.
and nooo
don't get me started on syllables
Or they call them enigma these days

Those woven words
Those written graphical contents leave us in awe
Only the 5th generation circuits gets it
the softwares involved are not for the average minds
Only a high speed drive would comprehend the contents

No petty malware would Penetrate through those walls
Only a malware with enviable skills
Ones that would suffocate and annihilate
Re program the chess board to its advantage
Inciting the readers that they understand the depth  of that poem

— The End —