"ogle" poems
G. government
O. organization
O. ogle
You...
..yes you are so interesting or threatening to the government that they feel compelled to watch you all day, every day, constantly and a tech company is aiding them in violating a core principle of freedom; the right to privacy.
A tech company is complicit in a tyranny against freedom and individuality while selling you knowledge?
I hope Trump finds the courage to start hanging traitors because Google will be the greatest weapon against freedom ever created by man.
*There is not such a thing as democracy.
There is no such a thing as freedom.
There is no thing called capitalism.
America is a myth.* *
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
Put your head down
and werk.
Put your feet up
and twerk.
Run quickly
and watch the
pavement blur.
Don't ask questions.
Love you answers,
and explanations,
your valuations,
and justifications.
In the mood for pizza?
Cause the shop's on your left.
In 0.5 miles, it will be on your left.
ON YOUR LEFT.
YOUR DESTINATION IS ON THE LEFT.
Rerouting...
the protocol is exactly THIS,
not THAT.
So just do it.
checkmark.
Nike said so.
Just buy it.
we suggest it.
Just try the Quesarilla
#tacobell #mexicanfood #foodporn
#pleasegetmemoreviews
How bout a selfie
where you look miserable
and unhealthy.
But you're a celebrity.
Rub your likeness
on me and
I'll get you publicity.
#fire
#ice
#rain
What happened to real pain?
And did dissonance disappear?
Why must I hide my tears?
And be bright and happy
And ogle guys with fohawks
trimmed so carefully.
And live a lie,
of numbers and rye
bread is the worst,
sandwiched in bursts.
We all live
and we all hurt
and we all deserve
a life like hers.
who you say?
Kim Kardashian,
of course.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
Our love is like a microwave
We nonchalantly recognize its presence And we happily utilize it everyday
Yet we rarely sit and ogle upon the magic it contrives.
The beguiling beauty of the zappy microwave.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Upon a midnight’s visage airy,
T’was a lake frozen by fairy,
…and weighing on mind’s tonnage bearing?
There for ice’ opaqueness winter’s seized,
…and arms encased in rime; trees.
“Oh my,”
At dark of sky thought the eye of something troubling upon my mind?
And the frosty cloudy glass,
Take to it upon my axe,
…and the sting of shards will pass.
And will I eat at last.
Thusly, thrusting through the skull, wettened, weakened for the cold.
…and burden carry I with me,
So encased in rime is he,
Doth make of fishing’s night a chore,
Something that I do abhor!
…and stare I did into that sea,
…my frory breathe in imagery,
Dismay it did fluster me, when my eye captured by Sea,
...and in whirling thoughts could reflection see?
…and something else came back with me.
Pool with drops, light curves, dark rings; in vapid mind now find nothing...
T’was a misty sheen seen after showers?
A damp muggy place of reflecting hours,
Typhoid strange did make snowing;
The Asteraceae of my wilted flowers,
…and that Wren philosophically sings,
…and at lake a lone be -ing,
Appearing peering my soliloquy, I am therefore I into thee.
…and fixed calm stared back at me,
“What pray tell I Enquiry?”
Did something else look back at me?
...and glaring gaze thus did see, something I had hid from me,
…and gawking in my mind did ogle; a malevolence of thought once frugal...
A gaping, oscillating, pierced Abyss, forced farther back into consciousness...
Deeper in and further still,
Climb atop Old Arthur’s hill,
…and the winged Raven’s nearer, reflected on me in my mirror?
…and time did pass turning frozen dying, icy tears of sadness from my crying,
…so did silent Hume release, all the pain that’s troubling me; whilst frozen frame thus held in peace?
I fell forward and felt submerged,
Both characters, both now have merged.
And that creature which accompanied me?
Found a solace back in wine dark sea.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 12:31 AM UTC
A frizzy blue black shadow, there you hold,
curtaining off the door to the pleasure garden,
in my frenzied day dreams, it seems like everglades
where your chiseled alabaster legs smugly join in.
It would take many shapes in my hazy dreams
when my ***** imagination, for you is in an overdrive,
at times it's a soft winged butterfly flitting around your *****
intermittently sitting on your thighs, inching slowly upwards,
how it takes my breath away! in each of it's tickling move.
Excited I ogle, and just then it assumes the look of a face,
with such inviting succulent lips, I fully lose my patience
at first the kiss is soft, a fervency takes over,then, I slip in to a trance
erotically charged and ecstatic, I hear you moan,when I explode!
കാമ നിഴല്നാടകം
------------------------------------
കുനുകുനെ കരിനീലയാമൊരു
നിഴല് അവിടെ നിനക്കുണ്ട്
സുഖകവാടത്തിനു മൂടുപടമൊന്നിട്ടപോലെ
എന് ഭ്രമ ഭരിതമാം പകല്സ്വപ്നങ്ങളി
ലതു നീര് നിലമായിമാറുന്നു.
നിന് വെണ്ണക്കല് കടഞ്ഞ
കാലുകള് ചേരുന്നൊരിടം.
എന് ഭാവന യുടെ കാമ സ്വപ്നങ്ങള്
നിന്നെത്തേടിപ്പായവേ
എന് അവ്യക്തസ്വപ്നങ്ങളില്
അതു, രൂപാന്തരങ്ങള്തേടുന്നു.
ചിലനേരംനിന്അരക്കെട്ട്ചുറ്റി
യൊരുചിത്രശലഭംപറക്കുന്നു
ഇടയിടയില് നിന് തുട പറ്റിയിരുന്നു
മേലോട്ട്മെല്ലെനീങ്ങുന്നു.
അത് മെല്ലെ ഇക്കിളിയിട്ട്മേല്പ്പോട്ടു
നീങ്ങാന് തുടങ്ങവേ
എന് ശ്വാസം നിന്നുപോവുന്നു!
ഉന്മാദിയായിഞാനവിടെ നോക്കുന്നു,
അവിടെയൊരുമുഖമല്ലേകാണ്മൂ
മദ ഭരിതമാ ചുണ്ടുകള് കാണുമ്പൊള്
ഞാന് എന്നെത്തന്നെ മറന്നു
മൃദു ചുംബനം, ലഹരി പകരുന്ന മുത്തം
പിന്നെ,എല്ലാം മറന്നമയക്കം!
രതിലഹരിയില് നിന് വിതുമ്പല് കേള്ക്കെ
ഞാനുമൊരുകാമ വിസ്ഫോടനമറിയുന്നു
(In Malayalam Translation)
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
I was not born afraid of strange men.
I was not born to panic when the only empty seat on the bus is next to a man.
I was not meant to cross the street when a boy walks towards me.
I was not supposed to check the underpass for rapists when I walk home at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.
Were you born to make me itch and crawl in my own skin?
Were you born to sprawl your legs out on the bus and occupy much more space than is necessary while I perch on the edge of a seat and pray that the driver takes the corners slowly?
Were you born to give me sweaty palms and panic attacks and an uncertainty of whether or not I should wear that V-neck shirt to school?
I am going to tell you something that you will not want to hear, but you are going to listen. You are going to listen because I have been glaring and sighing and crying and screaming at you ever since the first time I wore a bra. Since my first period. Since the first time I wore makeup. Since a boy catcalled me before I knew that it was wrong.
You need to stop.
You cannot do this anymore because I will not let you. You are not allowed to follow me home because my hair glimmers in the sunlight- you are an obnoxious boy and I am thirteen. You are not allowed to ask me my name while we’re on the bus- you are a middle aged man and I am sixteen. You are not allowed to stare at my ******* while I debate whether or not to sign up for AP Biology- you are a hair-raising teenage boy and my body is not yours to stare at.
I am not a quiet, soft thing for you to ogle and speak to whenever you please. I am a person, and my favorite pair of socks are green. I am a girl, and the next time you open your legs and overflow into my space, I will sling my foot on top of your lap and ask your age until you understand. I am a human being, and I do not care if you think my hair is pretty. You need to leave me alone.
I am a person. I am strong and sarcastic and lazy and funny and weak and smart and riddled with anxiety, and I will not let you stare at me.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
Alexander k Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
The most misused natural resource is animal emotion
Animal jelousy, animal love, animal happiness, animal libido,
Animal compassion, animal grief, animal ogle, animal ***
Animal ego, animal fear or stampede, but animal anger utmost
It is a resource of value and virtue if used in prudence
Least vicious off all lest ghoulish natural disposition
Whose exemplification follows below in juxtaposition;
Out of anger a human animal kills
Revenges in full feat of anger
Causing accidents and damages
In employment of anger to uphold ego
A snake will not bite until ignited to anger
But in its calm state it’s an agent of ecological peace
Lioness is herbivorous in their truce but irascibly carnivorous
Buffaloes only crash if catapulted by anger
But romantically crazy in the emotional bliss
Man is fountain of peaceful jealousy
Man is cradle of venerative bigotry
Man is a well of murderous love
Humanity engendered is matchless ocean
Of cantankerous infatuation crushing for doable
And non-doables, deservation of pity,
All these natural ornamentations
That echo vicious virtues of man
Are protégés of perfected anger.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Lady from deepest dirt, deeper than the ocean, denser than Marianas Trench, speaks so proper, in a sweet subtle voice: “I do.”
Gentleman from highest sky, higher than the clouds, brighter than the morning star, speaks so assertive in a firm and quiet whisper: “I do.”
No hesitation in either of their voices, as always they give off the radiant atmospheric glow of love. In their lives, long lasting is his proposal, long lasting is her gaze.
The greatest of events is this wedding, greater than time itself.
He is a ‘gift from God’ to her, and he forever ‘excels’ to stay by with her.
He dreamt of her before, but never like this, she fantasized her wedding but never dreamt of him.
Can there be anything more right than the love of husband and wife?
Can there be anything more right than the pact they have formed?
Can there be any place more special than the familial bond?
If there is than by the magnitude of heaven, it should be destroyed.
Hope is so well-founded, faith is so assured, joy is so abundant, but love creates them all.
He never lost trust in her, she always felt rested in his arms.
Kisses always tenderly embraced, a long ogle at all times; every coming together.
He stands always ***** never bended to one knee, she understood as the love they share together was and is always never traditional.
They understand each other with little but a gaze, they care for so little else but their love.
No necessary dreams of the future anymore; fantasies are now their reality.
Dreams exist outside of the head: the nightmares will be fought together.
The dragon is far from slain, but together they ward it off as one.
One flesh, One soul, One mind, One heart, all fighting together.
The battle will be forever, but Love never fails.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
The blue dew is raining in
roaring fury!
It's a love cascading violently
from ****** blue mountain,
inviting grit from ocean of
courage, to offload tons of
bashfulness overload.
I reach a dime with hazel gaze
to a blue-eyed goddess in the
love garden, popping ogle
champagne in blind lust to
******** world.
I grin!
I grin in summary epic!
The amorous picnic turn and caress
me in mercurial adjectives, embalm
me in emotional stiffness, aloof
from the real, unfrozen me into
insatiable insanity.
Not long, the craze evaporated
into eternity!
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 2:07 AM UTC
I admit that I am a man
and with that comes man things
I'm obsessed with the shape
and can't help but stare
when you pass by
Albeit a subtle glance
sometimes it's a full out
ogle
Tight jeans or yes...
the classic yoga pants
can drive a sane man wild
What is it that makes me crazed
why can't I stop?
If there was a 12 step program
to taper me off
I would be in rehab
Even the summer tiny shorts
and beach thongs... why do you
tease me to break my neck
I want and need help, but
a well designed bubble,
apple, onion, aka *****
is a terrible thing to waste
I love and respect all your
feminine parts, ****
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 4:03 AM UTC
They kissed you with that mouth
Wrote books about you
Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads
For humans with high testosterone to ogle
While they ******* the top of a beer bottle
Like it will bring their fathers acceptance
Back into their eyes.
Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash
Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn
Your spit
Indigestion
Because they kissed you with that mouth.
And you still believe,
You asked for it
You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for
The hood
what good is the hood and the hood-rats
You ******* ***** in alleyways
All 10 of them lined up
said I might as well have the money upfront
If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it
They bashed your head into concrete so hard.
You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like
Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like,
I don’t know your story
I don’t know your name
I don’t know you
I just know that your friend
And my friends
Last night
Came to the conclusion
That you were a ****
And you were asking for it
You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete
And hey maybe you did
Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget
The hate inside
The misogyny you swallow
and wash down the drain
maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like
what being wanted felt like
because you thought you were worth the money
but they didn't
because maybe that's what you asked for
because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes
rather then take your higheels off and fight
because your laughter sounds more broken than you do
because your eyes hold remnants of your skull
because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly
because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist
my male friends the protector of women
came to an agreement
you asked for it
put yourself in the position to
smell the inside of your brain
because your blood meant power
because finishing them off
meant swallowing or bleeding
and you did some of both because
maybe you chose survival
because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with
another mans hands down your throat
some to aid air some
to constrict
weather you bleed or swallow you are only
emptying out
and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but
there is so much anger about what happend to you
and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises.
Because you were once a chandelier of candles
And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building
Because your **** gives you free crack and
My friends have disgust on their faces
And I feel
Pity
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Boys, I warn you, you are not
to look at Twinkle Girls;
I, Glum Master of the Universe, command
that none of you boys
look at those Shiny Girls who
are Bright as Stars
and so are called Twinkle Girls –
remember, you are not to look at
or wink at Twinkle Girls.
You can, O you immature boys
you can chase butterflies
and climb trees and fall off them and break your legs
but chasing Twinkle Girls,
no – I expressly forbid you from such a pursuit.
Twinkle Girls always come with a chime and charm
still, when they pass by and their scent gets into your mind
you are to poke your noses into your books
and you will contemplate the secrets of addition and subtraction
and the intricacies of algebra
until they pass you by…
Look, boys – you can have computer games
and you can play role-play games
and you can twitter and text
and you can steal cookies from the pantry when mom’s not looking
and you can spend the whole day
at websites your parents told you to stay away from –
but looking at Twinkle Girls,
that, I, Glum Master of the Universe,
I expressly forbid
And what will I, Glum Master of the Universe,
do about it if you ogle at those Twinkle Girls who giggle?
I’ll amend the Books that Surely Lead to Heaven
so boys like you will all end up in Hell…
So, if you want to go to Heaven and eat for free
without mom nagging at you to be neat
and you want to play computer games for all eternity –
boys, I warn you, you are not
to look at Twinkle Girls…
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 2:39 PM UTC
I walked around the lake
but it didn't feel like a lake
anymore
my path was paved
the trees were shaved
and the water
was quiet.
a goose stopped to ogle me
and the other passers-by
it craned up its neck
and yawped
like a cry for help
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Quite enticing, plush
she is a spectacle,
all the same lacking
substance and depth.
A coffee table book
everyone who is
someone, curiously grab,
turn the pages in a jiffy,
just to feel the gloss
eye the seductive shine
ogle the ostentation,
and caress the pictures
in opulent colors,
then, let go quick
without any qualms.
Throw it back on the table
with a resounding thud
in no time and leave
without even looking back once!
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
I left Florida for the weather.
Where summer pulses stagnant heat,
to the rhythm of waves crashing.
Today feels like yesterday,
feels like last year,
reminds me of that time five years ago
when thunder seduced my soul.
Ssshhh.
That's death rising from swollen swamps,
listening for the sound of prolonged blinkers.
Jurassic eyes ogle leather flesh,
cracked,
salty,
alien.
I moved north for a fight.
I jumped in the ring with scholars,
pennies clamoring in sidewalk cups,
applause.
A crooked nose now leads the way,
shadows take root beneath youthful,
sun-kissed pools of blue.
I'm still spinning.
I left Atlanta for the people.
Well, just one really.
The girl whose soul once kissed thunder in the rain,
and can't quit chasing storms
until they touch again.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
So
You've found a girl who can hold your gaze
You've found a girl with those sinful curves
that girl with the lips that you want sayin' your name
Oh she's beautiful alright. How did you get so lucky?
Maybe you're not as lucky as you think you are?
Does being
luscious, limber, lavacious, and alluringly lustworthy
make up for being
lewd, lethargic, and a lackadaisical liar?
So what that she's
ogle-worthy, optically pleasing, orgasmically ideal
if she's
offensive, ostentatiously ornate, and overbearing?
She may be
vivacious, voluptuous, and sexually voracious
She's also
vain, vapid, vacuous, a vengeful *****
Don't let her
exotic, ****** efficaciousness
Blind you to her
egocentric, evasive, envious nature
Those lips won't look so enticing when they're spitting poison barbs into your heart
Wouldn't you rather have a girl
Who is likeable?
Who is original?
Who is vibrant?
Who is enough to make you happy?
It's all you need
Do I have to spell it out for you?
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
I always carry a pen in my pocket.
I watch I Love Lucy reruns when I’m upset.
Chocolate is my obsession, my “péché migon.”
I listen to quiet chatter and music without lyrics when I’m trying to focus.
I am far from a picky eater, but I cannot stand ketchup or licorice.
Watching Gilmore Girls religiously for five years taught me that life is too short to talk slowly enough for people to understand you.
I find the world hilarious.
Making it easy for people to laugh with me is my goal.
I ogle over Ducky from Pretty in Pink with my best friend every time I need a reminder that not all boys are ****
I want to walk down the aisle holding a bouquet of stargazer lilies, as my mom did before me, and I lose myself in Degas’ “L’étoile” every so often.
Burt’s Bees honey lip balm reminds me of my childhood Winnie-the-Pooh scratch-and-sniff book.
Every cup of Constant Comment tea, pair of jeans that fits perfectly, night spent listening to rain hit the roof, and run through damp grass with bare feet reminds me that life is beautiful.
Once, I ate so much pineapple I burned the lining of my mouth.
I cried the first time I heard “Save Us” by Cartel and saw the ending of Cyrano de Bergerac in French.
I am going to marry the genius who invented cinnamon brown sugar Pop Tarts.
Everyday, when I leave the house, I blow a kiss to the picture of Walter Payton my dad hung above the doorway to our garage.
When on vacation, my family and I buy pastries and coffee and walk in front of a jewelry store, attempting to recreate the scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Life should be a little crazy most of the time.
I may seem difficult to live with, but I’ve shared a room with my little sister for fifteen years, and she only hates me sixty-three percent of the time.
I hope that you are up for a few good laughs and an extraordinary year.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
He took issue with the small gestures in life. The birthday message from a friend not seen in a decade, the idol chit chat that filled the cafe's, cinema's and other such places, proclaiming them fraudulent unthinking habit, a motion with no true sentiment and in return the followers of such social constructs took issue with him - or worse, pitied him.
He despised most human interaction because of this. Often being told that he 'rubbed people up the wrong way' or was 'too antagonistic' He just saw this as another excuse to expel him from the group (whatever that group was) All because he didn't partake in the usual social etiquette and fakery of the masses- this view only led to him being mocked further and neatly labelled as a stroppy, teenage rebel. His thoughts and voice cut down with replies of "Aaah stop feeling sorry for yourself!" "Stop going on about it!" " You're soo negative!" Because in all honesty nobody wants to be around a down in the dumps, killjoy, party pooper right?
He could find no solace in the little things nor understanding in the greater questions of life, so he drifted along. Bitter onlooker to a species so separate from his own. Desperate to somehow integrate into their ranks but convincing himself that such thoughts were mere acts of desperation.
And he was a desperate young man, desperate and despairing at his separation from the world and all others in it. Yet admittance to such feeling would rarely depart his form. No, he would mock and ogle at them from afar.
He would rather be Outcast than Cast Out.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
the donkeys bray
and panic
when bricks
fly through
bank windows.
gobsmacked,
the ***** ogle
the trashed Starbucks
and ask,
"but...who will serve us
cappuccinos?"
the elephants intone,
"violence is never the answer"
and neglect to add
that's why they pilot
remote-operated
predator drones:
you won't see those stomped
in the elephants' stampede.
their ***** wars are covert.
peace cannot interrupt
the cash-flow.
as pigs fit armor over
bellies buttressed
by doughnuts,
they stare down
the wolf pack—a bloc
awash in black—
and slap their sticks
in primitive percussion
shouting, "do not resist,"
punctuating the order
with concussion grenades
and tear gas.
the wolves howl back, "no cops,
no KKK, no fascist USA!"
equal parts bark and bite
in the fight for humanity,
solidarity with the least of these,
laughing in the face of the State.
each time the wolves show their teeth,
the pigs shrink back
and quiver in fear,
while the wolves roar,
"refugees are welcome here!"
we will make racists
afraid again.
antifa, here to stay
so long as there remain
Nazis to punch in the face.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 9:25 PM UTC
Stop right now and NUT IT OUT
Which way you wish to go,
Do you want the wealth and stressful strain
Or blithely flick and throw?
Do you preen yourself with smiling pride
Owning shining chattels new,
Whilst shallow OTHERS OGLE
With those envious eyes on you?
Or do you seek the clean four winds
Untrammelled by concern,
With sleeping bag, a crescent moon
Whilst crackling bonfires burn?
Have you thought to chuck it all
The car, the house, the boat
And cause your superficial friends
To snigger, leer and gloat?
To simply live in HUMBLE CIRCUMSTANCE
To wake without a plan,
To greet the day with unconcern
And breathe a new, fresh man.
Is the courage there to TAKE THE CHANGE,
Can you make the first big move,
Or does convention stay your hand
To stray from comfort’s groove?
Have you thought about what others think,
Reactions from the crowd,
The clamorous cacophony
Of objection rendered loud?
“Absolutely NOT, my dear”
Pygmalion my ****
To throw it all away, Silly,
Simply would... betray your Class!
“It’s all so rudimentary
This thing of living rough”
“Reminds me of the great apes,
And other basic stuff!”
There’s loads of reasons why YOU CAN’T,
The mortgage at the bank,
Insurance is essential
And while we’re being frank...
There’s the tennis club subscription
And the afternoons I’d miss
Sipping lattes with the ladies
..though, the gossip’s SO remiss.
Perhaps we’ll put it off for now
Another day perchance,
When devilment and joi le vivre
EFFUSE another prance.
When the dream of having freedom
With the cold wind in my hair,
Will drive me to release
The inner WILDNESS hidden there.
Marshalg
Victoria ParkTunnel
4 March 2011
Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 6:14 PM UTC
Along the riverline
we've known in gaze
you who passes in gumed lips
not even a hiss my ear is privileged to hear
frightening holds my courage
i dare not you in sharing of feelings talk
i do not believe that you look me in the eyes
and you smiled to me
the thirty two occupants covering
by your lips brightening my eyes
they are my weakness
my heart melts in gladness
sorrows within fled
at the ogle of your eyes
my delight is
the naked covering of your teeth when you smile
is my heart beat
Come teach me the love song
tell me the love stories
teach me the road to your heart to follow
come lets be one bound with love.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
Cactus,I could guess the secret
you'd rather love to see buried deep,
isn't the thorny rose ,you dream
in your lonely sad nights?
Torrential rains lash long hours, you wait,
sun breaks his barrage of light on you,
it doesn't matter, foggy evenings tip toes to
ogle the dark beauty night wears,
oh! her starry necklace, that won't
brook any kind of description,
rose you have sent your fragrance
looking for the scent of your love, cactus.
Apart from thorns there is nothing
that bring you both together.
With the yearning each for the other
slowly waning, you remain apart.
as a binding factor, are just thorns enough?
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
paris...
no american in sight, or how i just see utopia...
songs on the steps of sacré-cœur, kissing
an american girl, then cheese and wine
next to the Eiffel tower, laughing, joking, trailing
and tailing off with talk of nabokov,
the nightclub scene with ping-pong ecstasy dances,
youth, youth, youth,
of youth that congregated once in those places,
parisian girls congregating for a game french hushes
with the chinese whispers and anglo comic charades
learned from the conquering normans...
paris back then, what wouldn't i have given for it,
but i learned of starving north,
where lecture upon lecture repeated david hume,
and i said:
it's the 21st century after all!
make edinburgh the new paris!
oh paris, but paris stay intact,
with the eiffel tower in my palm,
where all love met no love
but love met love all the more fictive,
written with a million reincarnations
that once told a tale of warring fractions known
as factions,
and it was told so: paris of my past where
i walked the streets with the compass height
ordaining coordinates that the tower was
to thus learn:
in times of panicky sentencing est mort,
people congregate in hawkish gaze
at monuments of their bone and marrow
turned into cement and irons of scaffold,
and there they congregate to ogle a new hope
when encouraged by a new fascination
of those that are less amazed by the phonetic
simplicity of animals than those who keep them.
oh paris, how i too wished things would have
remained a truer you begging truancy
from international press coverage,
how that one summer i became embedded
in taking to sleep on rock that felt like
woollen napkins filled with duck quills.
and in the memoriam altar two boys played
this song: as entombed by the title.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC