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Bathsheba Dec 2010
Rob the ***’s an ignorant man
Ill educated
Illiterate
A
chancer’s dripping pan

The day he fell in lust with a Roman Catholic *****
He entrapped her as his prisoner
So men could not gaze at her no more

Within a month
A life was spawned
Up the aisle they did flee
This is
my friend
Just the start
Of the
???????? dynasty

Deserted by their families
Cast out
To breed alone
Rob was dictatorial
A king upon his throne

No longer would she work for Smedleys up the road
Her life to now be governed by her husband’s crazy code

First came a boy  “1”
Followed by a girl  “2”
Followed by a girl  “3”
Followed by a girl  “4”
Followed by a girl  “5”
Followed by a boy  “6”
Followed by a boy  “7”

Now “I” stand in this pecking order
somewhere at the top
The inheritance of madness
Nobody can stop
The boys were brainwashed daily
Taunted with being gay
Withdrawal kicked in very quick
And with them it did stay
The girls were ****** and *****
Irrespective of attire
Educated so very young to
Suppress
all natural desires

After the birth of the firstborn
Rob decided to no longer work
His job was in the house now
In shadows he would lurk
Rules and regulations
Beaten with a stick
Quite an achievement really

FOR    A    MAN    SO    *******    THICK

Do you remember No1?
How you practised with your fists
Smashed his ******* head in
Til he was shrouded in a mist
He wore 4 jumpers every day
Because you told him he was puny
Are you proud of your inheritance?
You raving ******* loony

Note: No1’s best friend turned out to be a *******
but that’s a whole new chapter



Do you remember No2?
What happened when she was seven?
I don’t know what’s wrong or right
The truth lies in the vaults of heaven
She cut a blackbird’s head off
And danced with manic glee
You created all of us
One great big ****** up family
Proud?

Note: No2 ended her marriage after falling in love with
her 15 year old baby sitter



Do you remember No3?
How you decided she was loose
So she crawled inside a bottle
of alcoholic juice
Every day she went out thieving
just to feed her habit
Rob do you remember the day that
you made her eat her rabbit?
Could not put down roots
So roamed from town to town
Keeping her head above the sewer
For fear that she might drown

Note: No3 is happy and leaves the past in the past where
it belongs ... for now



Do you remember No4?
That must have been some job
for her to have been sectioned so many times
When you stand before your maker
Will you admit
to all of your crimes?
Or will you shrivel up?
Try to pass the buck?
Well … listen up here Rob
You’re running out of ******* luck

Note: No4 is now living with another fellow loony and
trying to normalise her existence



Do you remember No5
The girl now thinks that every man is a *******
Can you imagine anything that really is more vile?
You turned the girl into a cunning compulsive liar
Lost forever behind the shield of the constant surface fire
Are you proud of all your children?
Does your heart not swell with pride?
Is this what you envisaged?
On that day you took your bride

Note: No5 is on the lookout for a rich farmer to impregnate
her so that she can live of off his money



Do you remember No6
Oh yes, of course, he lives on the same estate
But he won’t give you the time of day
Is it time yet to contemplate?
He keeps his family separate
Tries to keep them pure
Antidote was easy
Separation from you was this man’s cure
Feeling any guilt yet?
Shame for what you’ve done?
Or do you still think that we are all *******
Each and every one

Note: No6 lives on happily with his family and has
had no contact for 15 years ... for now



Do you remember No7
The 7th child of the 7th child
Now where do I begin?
Fed him sweets and biscuits
Smirking with that evil grin
Kicked him out the house all day
Come the rain or shine
No wonder that he ended up
With a mind that’s much maligned
Paranoid
Delusional
This man was surely worth a punt?
But not by you
Apparently
You
****** up ******* ****

Note: No7 continues trying to slay the dragon and is more
grounded due to the love of his son



So ******* Rob and **** your ways
I will hate you til the end of days
You had no right to **** up the lives
Of your children
Or your ***** of a wife
And when you die
When the time is right
When Beelzebub has you in his sight
That’s the point the cork will blow
Time slows down and you will know
Your wicked ways were not a given
You will never ever be forgiven
Into the bowels of hell you’ll burn
To late for lessons to be learned


**ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
ROT IN HELL YOU WICKED EVIL MAN
This poem has become deeply personal to me because as a consequence of penning this ..... my loving parents decided in their wisdom to divorce me and my brother Jack .... Oh ... how we laughed !!!
Thomas Charlton Feb 2019
So there’s a girl across the street
A girl to whom he’s grown accrete
A girl he’s just to scared to greet
But yet still he sits and hopes

You see she’s in love with Darren
However Darren’s in love with Karen
And Karen sits and stares at Bob, who’s probably gay, probably not,
But still he drools over Linda,
Who’s stare is blank and barren,
Pointed at the anti-nerd, football loving, guru Darren.

Yes it’s really that simple,
Forget love triangle, more love enneadecagon,
Gone,
That reminds him, as it hits his head like a hadron,
Gone,
Are his hopes of him and the girl across the street.

Her features to him, were long developed similes,
They came to his brain, seamlessly, chemically,
Of course he’s never express these feelings formally,
But to him they acted as a soothing love remedy.

Her eyes were golden like caramelised sugar,
Or the enticing qualities of slowly melting butter,
Each eye, a galaxy waiting to be discovered,
And yes he means the chocolate bar.

Her hair is crimson like strawberry laces,
Which reminds him of the disadvantages of having braces,
But he braces himself as though it’s his duty,
Braces himself for an overwhelming amount of beauty.

She talks to him about all the awful things that guys do,
She then says she wishes that more guys were like you,
She says she wants that guy to show up this year,
But what she doesn’t see, is that that he’s standing right here.

So there’s a guy across the street
A guy to whom she’s grown accrete
A guy she’s just to scared to greet
But yet still she sits and hopes

You see he’s in love with her neighbour,
A chore that she knows can be a labour,
Yet she knows she can be the saviour,
Because she is even greater

So one day to no surprise, he’s looking out with eager eyes, they lock eyes, butterflies, quite surprised, more butterflies, they remain like that til sunrise, emotions start to normalise, then fluctuate because of those **** butterflies.

So there’s a girl across the street
A girl to whom he’s grown accrete
A girl he wasn’t scared to meet
And now they live and bond

Because that girls in love with Darren,
However Darren’s in love with Karen,
But who cares,
They have each other for the rest of their days

And beyond.
Amanda May 2015
You absolutely do not get the honor of burning a numerical value on her self-worth.

You certainly do not get to measure that assumption from the hem-line tailored on her thighs. Or the daring dresses she wore because it made her feel a different kind of beautiful.

She is not asking for it. What she will demand for is neither your attention nor stares. She wants respect.
Can you do that?

Oh, and when you are emboldened by your 'witty' validation that she  is a ‘****’ or of promiscuous nature, all down to the clothes she wears on her back.

Don’t.

Cotton stitches against warm skin. (She was enjoying a walk.)

Silk swathes on slightly chilled bones. (She forgot her jacket on a Wednesday night out with friends.)

Thick knits adorn even more layers of cotton. (It was a winter night.)

Their cold lips pursed by the late hour, scream silence.

With that validation, you normalise and excuse the acts of ****, soul-destructing ****** offences.
For you have blamed the victim.

You excuse a depraved psychological state.

The veins that choked from ice and no’s. You have forgotten.

Rapists and ****** offenders do not get the luxury of being excused.

Neither do you, ****.
The anger and frustration I feel at victim-shaming or '****'-shaming.
Maria Imran Dec 2016
I wake up from my sleep, try to open my eyes and adjust to the morning that is dark without your presence -
and so cold,
My body refuses to normalise, limbs don't move
I try to stretch, my chest fills with a nameless void -
nameless but so real,
And then my phone beeps from across the bed on the table; heart flutters; hope smiles
I get up and walk to find someone else's text. Brain says you knew it wasn't him
Weakly, I walk back but now I am moving, and I get on with living another day.
True that it's the expectation of impossible that keeps me alive.
Do not talk to me of your version of God
One that personifies God by egoistic mind

For ego by definition is Exit God Out
For your personification of God
Does not resonate with my knowing of God

The hell you believe I will burn in
Is the heaven I will transmute all my sins in

The hell you believe I live in
Is my route to heaven

The hell you believe in
Will drawn you in an ocean
Of guilt and shame

Keep your fears to yourself
I can no longer entertain them

Do not talk to me of God
When you want me to silence my soul
God can never be silenced by your egoistic minds

Let me redefine for you ‘كفر’ *
Let me redefine for you ‘blasphemy’

It is being a slave to your ideas
It is being a slave to your mind
It is being a slave to your concepts
It is being a slave to your fears

I am not here to be a slave to human minds
I am here to be a slave to my creator
His breath gave life to my body

I am not here to worship your fearful mind
I am here to worship my creator through my heart

Do not talk to me of God
When you refuse me the right
To exercise my divine gifts

Do not talk to me of God
When you rob me from free will
Divinely gifted to me at birth

Do not talk to me of God
When you rob me from exercising
The gift of freely speaking my mind

Do not talk to me of God
When  you forbid me from listening to my heart
Yet forcefully enslave me to your mind

Do not talk to me of God
When you fail to accept me

Do not talk to me of God
When you vilify my shadows

Do not talk to me of God
When you fail to see my divinity

Do not talk to me of God
When you deprive me
From the experience to witness
The limitless capacity of my body

Do not talk to me of God
When you reject parts of me
Yet God accepts all of me

Do not talk to me of God
When you fail to forgive me
While God offers me eternal forgiveness

Do not talk to me of God
When you abandon your son after he sins

For the God I know
Will never forsake his son
Nor shame him for his sins
Nor will he love him less

For the sins he does is the forgetting of self
When one acts against his self

Do not talk to me of God
When you fail to embody his love

For you have yet to know God
If you still refuse to embody his divine qualities

Do not talk to me of God
Till you reflect his unconditional love, grace, mercy, forgiveness and acceptance

Do not talk to me of God
When you sexualize my body that he has created

Do not talk to me of God
When you shame my body
For the sacred red fluid that flows out of me
The body that gives birth to his creation

Do not talk to me of God
When you separate me
From divine creations

Do not talk to me of God
When you justify killing
Yet vilify love making

Do not talk to me of God
When you normalise violence upon his creations
Yet shame the pleasures of love between his creations

We will not be silenced
By the barbaric volumes of your egoistic minds
Our divinity can never be a slave to your fears

You can not fears us into enslavement
Our divine faith runs deeper than the fears that hijacks your minds

Let us love each other
While we both try to experience God

Let us love each other
While we both try to understand God

Meanwhile I swim in the ocean of grace where hell does not exist

Thank you for being here - NwK
* كفر translates to blasphemy in arabic. This piece is dedicated to every soul that has experienced and continues to experience a force of both suppressive and oppressive silence by this world under the umbrella of any ‘so called’ moral authorities not limited to religious authorities.

Dedicated to all who feel unseen, unheard and unaccepted in any way or form. I say to you; you belong, you are seen, heard and accepted.

This world was created by fearful minds of humans. Let it not silence your heart, soul, truth and love. You are not disloyal for your choice not to conform to the fearful norms of this world.
You are not unfaithful to question all that has been told to you. Allow your experience to determine what truth is for you.
Festus Boamah May 2019
The game is still on
The race is me
It is ours to run
To fight against racism

A prejudice beyond acts
Discrimination above attitude
Reflected in systems and institutions
Preventing people from dignity

I learnt there is something we call "Human race"
We can't be humane with racial stereotype
Colour doesn't define us
As a person but who we are

We've had enough already
This is like an Olympic game
Not just for a race of black or white
Embodies other acts of harassment

Political stereotyping and gender activism
Ethnocentrism and nepotism
Can we stop this ism now!
Allowing human race transcend egotism

Reconceiving our race
And accepting tolerance and respect
Let's stop using humour to normalise racism
It's not funny perpetuating ugly stereotypes
Remember! We share a common history
Laundry is the only thing separated by colour

#PoeticKoncept
#Elikem
Inspires
Open to our inner desires
We want to find true affection.
Hoping such emotion is real.
With our heads in the clouds
We don't anticipate,
The imperfection
Or the human situation.
Before the errors
We frequently make.
We experience,
All the turmoil and drama.
We continue to chastise.
Even despise,
We tolerate and normalise,
An entire world of suffering.
In contrast to the vision, we see.
Do we truly know?
The path love will go.
How to have sincerity
We're not sure where to start.
Absorbed in the vision of
The idealism of the heart.
I've concluded.
Life isn’t what –
We imagine it to be.
The concept of love
Is stronger than –
The reality.
Always the dreamer
Okay
Listen to me now:
This is my political address
But I'm gonna talk to you now
Like you're all my friends
Because if we're gonna make it through this
We're gonna have to look out for each other in the end.

First thing's first,
let's set the record straight
It doesn't make a bit of difference
if you're straight or gay
And it really doesn't matter
from which country you originate.

And whichever god you pray to,
It's not okay
to sexualise a body or normalise ****.

And if your love for your children
depends on who they love,
then you've got your parenting wrong.
Tinnie Aug 2022
Regal, we must in physical form
To the societal standards, we blindly conform
Desensitised to find value in one’s own worth
We are love conditionally since our birth
Validation is our strongest pursuit
Judged us wrongly, we’ll refute
Our cuts and bruises have tales to tell
It’s there to justify that we’ve been through hell
Delirious to the idea of wanting is where the mind delves
All for the sake of ideal imagery, we defile ourselves
Patterned scars can be seen on our soiled skin
As we try to conceal the pain buried deep within
Why must we pretend to normalise such dysfunction?
Have we become too shallow to even function?
Gradually, we’re consumed to be demoralised
To our crippling selves, we barely recognised
Shackled to the harsh truths of our reality
As we failed to see the reflection of our inner beauty.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
right now i have a mind-frame worth of a Janissary, so don't **** with me!

i have what you fear... an, idea,
is that not, the case?

            there few men that
delve in fear of idea,
                 new york is no odessa....

americans deserve the swine and
swivel - and the stench
of the immortality of nations....

if your beloved be Baghdad,
mine is l'vov...
as is your precious Constantinople....

byzantine...
                        unto my wish
sultan Mahmet....
the roma the bulgar...
the serb abnd croat...
                  i have you heel...
                    i have too by blinding
a deserving alliance...
a father's unsaid words...
                  most welcome the
undeserved,
                      a revealing scapegoat
of a a master,
                     what futile labour
of the 72 ****** awaiting whip & tail...
                                    
            no crimea the tartan tongue
worth speak,
and no *battle of tannenberg
,
    wert sprechen...
                     united europe?
brexit unison?
                            apparently there's
no unison concern for a hasting's 1066...
you, ******* idiots!
                          learn a  bit of history
of your neighbours,
before you juxtapose your own,
upon the others! *******,
english, brats!
                      i hate the english for being
so ******* isle abiding,
they think they're icelandic but can
hardly compete...
               they have so much history
outside of europe that they're confused
about being european,
in than europeans have a history...
                 and they are dislodged from it...
the irish know more about england
than the english known about england.
n'ah, you know what, **** it,
   i'ld rather be a turkish white-boy slave
in the ottoman empire
than normalise the nag hammadi library
of keeping the narrative of:
it's safe to say, the madness of trans-gender
adolph ****** is pinching the revival
button...
        no... i'm not signing up to faking
the 2.0 of the next crucifix...
                               count me out...
i'm done...
                            first you flirt with
normalising schizophrenia,
before you "flirt" with "normalising"
the transgender,
    then you tell me where "la la land" is,
then you let me torture peter pan,
and then we torture alice in wonderland,
simply because you ******* normalised
a madness that requires institutionalisation,
the sane are deemed mad,
the mad are deemed sane...
                         you pushed the wrong
buttons, for far too long...
**** it, i'm pushing the
                        apostasy button...
looks like even though i drink, excessively,
islam will welcome me...
why? BECAUSE I'M NOT AS ******
UP AS YOU ALREADY ARE!
David R Jul 2021
the chocolate brown, curling brew,
with ebony structure,
opens my eyes so i see you,
conscious rupture

what magic is this that stirs the mind,
bewitching spirit,
opens the eyes, gives sight to the blind
breaks speed limit

though indeed i rarely gormandise
this be my third cuppa
i need four cups before i can normalise
to last me to supper
BLT's Merriam-Webster Word of The Day Challenge:
#gormandize
leechyna Mar 2022
I let everyone passby
Without saying bye
Though we will all die
Normalise saying hi

To the tired
To those who tried
Even those who cried
All your good things are set aside

To the loving mothers
Who fight like others
Who her hope never withers
Hope you will be Angels; with wings and feathers

To the lonesome fathers
Who play role of mothers
I will write you in heaven book like others
Who held their love like no other

To those who laugh on our backs
Like how dog barks
Oh God let them eat barks
But forgive them

To us
Who never thought of saying us
Or owning her with an a**
Anyway lemme let it pass

In the end
Those who believe in bible
Who believe in the end
In heaven let God give you a title
Commuter Poet Oct 2019
Blue coats
Fried food
Headphones and alcohol

Gates and overhead fans
Travellers
Waiting
Clutching passports and tickets
Whilst giant machines
Queue up
Waiting to power along
Soaking wet runways
Blasting tiny humans into
The fantasy of imagination

We have learned to fly
And normalise
The experience of disconnecting ourselves
From the solid earth

We float in the air
Like babies in amnion
Normalising the abnormal
Dreaming our earthly lives away

It’s all but a dream
All of it
Organised into parcels of time
Bundles of adrenalised experiences

Inside all of us
Our hearts beat
Once
Twice
Thrice

Calmly counting
The measures of our time
In this incarnation

Until we stop
Fade
Disappear into the fabric of the air

Wider
Freer
Greater than any jet plane

Abundant in our disappearance
Untraceable
Unrecognisable
Lost in the wisps of our former existences
24th October 2019
Vanita vats Oct 28
Why
Pale colour
Agony and anguish
Reacting and rebelling
Earthing cries
Vaporising tears in sky
To find a place to sigh
for sleepless nights
For dark circles drawn under eyes
For all rumours around
For what had lost
telling stories
Cool air above and air bubbles
Turns the salty vapours into
soft ice flakes
to come down to spread white sheet on the land of heart
Slows down all emotions and normalise the blue sky

— The End —