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Jade Wright Jan 2022
The parks are ours
No matter what the signs say
Though the crunch of the woodland
calls from far away
calls us to hunt, to gallop on through
fields, mud and marshes
double-sniff around of favourite lake too.
We pad the tarmac
plod the concrete
whether the sky is day-pink or dusk-black
we will walk together
and sometimes you’ll chat aloud to me
I’ll take in each warm word
even as I feel the oosh of the sea.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
nacht! mein kalt! (pips and cult of shrining *******)
                        (night... my calm!)
esp. watching Tan
beat Serena Venus
at Wimbledon... the former just played
better tennis...  to hell with the crowd...
Tan reinvented tennis...
i was a huge fan of playing
squash... i loved the warm-up periods
where you had to oosh...
yeah: oosh... usher in
the right sort of temp.
for the rubber ball...
          she was... Tan: spinning the ***** like a
Shane Ward...
    it was lovely to watch...
in the end: force x **** didn't pay
off for the Williams' end of an era
match...
   *******... just be a mum...
    i clearly imply: thank you...
but... come on...
      joking aside...
looking at her husband...
you might be left wondering...
for the egoism of massive Africa-American
boyos of the massive ******* persuasion types...
are... with the blonde ******...
while Serena Williams gets to mother
the ***** of a... soy-boy...
wow!
       you look at that...
you try to "reiterate": you can be suddenly
squashed in the diagnosis of: "schizophrenic"...
point being: THERE'S NO REALITY...
it's all make believe...
the higher you are up the food chain
the more rigour-stance you exfoliate...

i like the taste of ***** *****...
i love eating ***** *****...
i also like eating eggs...
     i love sniffing anuses...
i love eating eggs like they're abortions...
i also like *******...
******* genocides into the loo...
problem?!
  my body! my choice!
i do about 3 genocides in a day...
problem?!
      are we going to, have... a... problem?!

because how ever many times i wished
to be a father and have the mother to / for my children...
****... it... let's forget it...
Africa / Asia can keep up with Darwinism...
white people can **** popsicles
of yellow Zappa ice...

i'm not even white... i'm universally pink when
bruised...
morbid fake... copper-neck pristine when
sun-tanning...
          American ******* ******* and their
racial profiling bull-*******-****!
you come round England one more ******* time...
i swear i'll throw imaginative acid on your face
to turn you into albinos...

i hate your graffiti grammar!
say what? you heard me...
I... HATE... YOUR... GRAFFITI... GRAMMAR...
you sound *******... urban... sure:
but... RE-TAR-ED...
slow... you know what slow sounds like?
you sound slow...
and i hate the H'american accent...
no... no money in this ******* lovely world
will ever bring me to kneel before
the people of this sordid Empire...

i drink: i'm an uninhibited fire hazard of speech...
while some drink and lose focus:
i drink and gain some...
FREE-DOM! WILLS the WALLACE!
WALLS-AH!
you seriously can't do it any other
******* way...
people are best preserved when they
don't listen...
                         n'est c'est pas?!
      
who the **** needs to stress intelligence
when it comes to crowds?!
keep 'em dump... keep 'em shallow...
keep 'em: "hippy"... idiotically happy...
und der nacht werden tragen die Überreste...

das ist!
     auf wiedersehen!
                                 hallo neu-unglück!
mein neu du.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2021
how could i possibly describe what
an auditory hallucination
feels like?
if the auditory hallucination is merely your name,
so clearly stated...
M'ah-T'eh-OOSH...
while you're on the job?
what if it's a sound akin to... a swarm of flies...
and it penetrates your "hearing"
with a needle sharpness: as if someone
just poked a needle into your ear?
- yet hallucinating is not like hearing...
even though: we're talking about
something auditory...
calmness but at the same time:
being completely startled...
when it comes to hallucinating your own
name... it feels like... a gust: a pick-me-up
of a cold wind...
come to think of it:
i was sometimes afraid of my own thoughts
than any hallucination...
perhaps it was a good thing that i refrained
from taking up a chance to ingest
some magic mushrooms...
i think i'll save that little adventure
for a time when i'll be old...
hardly spontaneous...
senile, perhaps even dementia prone: it runs
in the family...
well... i escaped the heritage of genes
that produce blindness / amputees:
diabetes... and only my maternal grandfather
had dementia... but just in case...
Amsterdam it will be... then ******* off
to some little wood on the flatland...
or a wheat-field and ingesting a mushroom
or two... but not yet...
not when i still write from my own
initiative...
alcohol hasn't rotted my brain: not quiet
enough... i'll save up time for this booster...
- and to think... so many people might
want to try to go mad...
but rarely ever do...
i watch them: confined to their solipsistic
placebo thinking-mediums
and... it's not that i pity them...
but it's... so varied... when you think...
but also can... dare i say, enjoy?
an auditory hallucination?
who wouldn't... if some "external" source
identified you, knew your name...
that's why i never "think" that i am alone:
i know i'm not... life can pass
its own little"game"...
save some.. waste a whole lot of:
proxy.
Here are my Lil ones Zoi sh n Freyanush

With them I always feel maha "khush".

Twins they are not like Luv n Kush

Freyu loves channa n Zoi "oosh".

Love they to play in Aarta's garden, around a bush.

Little soldiers with water guns in ambush.

Fighting each other; giving the other a push.

Love to watch them play I, my darling Zoish n Freyanush

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
so much for view counts...
when... you find... more pleasure...
sieving 2 tonnes of soil...
than... writing your abysmal best...
for some...
competition...
with... wait... who's in charge?
of the poetryfoundation.org?
well... old news...
willard bunn III...
    henry bienen... "resigned"...
oh now i'll be watching...
gone with the wind...
like some ******* secret a-class
*****... like some: ******...
like... requiem for a dream...
             like caligula in the face:
malcolm mcdowell...
i never liked: gone with the wind...
more a ben-hur fan...
barbara! oh... barbra: streisand! oosh!
and effect...
i'll be watching gone with
the wind till the wind don't take me
but lazy thames: might...
**** it... gone with the wind
marathon... one movie x 4...
will probably equal...
the whole harry potter and twilight saga...
well i don't think it's funny...
given... Hattie McDaniel...
nigh-eerie-***** was an uncle tom
after all... h'along...
didn't work 'ard anough!
cots the cradle and cotton the *******
spinning "oops"...
                    about time to stop caring...
i cared once...
bash up: prop'ah punk limbo...
   and the youth can read
the same trash elsewhere
on brick walls and their grafitti hierogylphics..
not mine...
oh sure... well... the movie film critics
were always...
not-circumcised ******...
hard to match up to a pleasing
palette of the aesthetically pleasing: prunes:
last sauced... for the edible...
   coz danzig and world war two
vil alwayz be like: whatz-everz...
             cotton picked: no coal mine: mined...
the slam dunk!
leave that to the slavs:
the albino nigh: oh gee...
no carry bone-ant-and-bean-pop do...
  paid for nothing:
kamikaze!

— The End —