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In the chaos of the city, City!
Where the wolven on the prowl,
Hot legs and looking pretty, leather skirt and upturned scowl,
You know it won’t discourage ditty, it only raises lustful howls,
In the chaos of the city, (pause)…a hunter’s stalking you now-ow-ow! (nowel)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)
To the animals you’re pretty, in those heels with that prance, (pray-ance)
In the chaos of the city, wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)
In the chaos of the city, tonight it’s *** out on the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city! City!
While trailing scent all a-round, (a-ray-ound)
Curvy-body, lookin’ at-cha (pause)… my teeth glistening, open mouth, (may-outh)
They’re not asking for much yeah, won’t be saying baby please,
Wolves you know they’re gonna hunt-cha, strutting past Ole’ factories,
Drivin’ n’ dancing yah, till you’re exhausted on your knees,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)

To the animals you’re pretty, Pretty!
In your heels they watch you prance, (pray-ance)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Tonight it’s *** out in the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
In the chaos of the city,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Feel his claws up on you now…

Ooh-Ooh, …In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city…
Lyrical poetry or song.
Seeing we never found gay fairyland
(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)
And missed the tide of Lethe; yet are soon
For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-spanned;
Nor ever unto Mecca caravanned;
Nor bugled Asgard, skilled in magic rune;
Nor yearned for far Nirvana, the sweet swoon,
And from high Paradise are cursed and banned;

-Let's die home, ferry across the Channel! Thus
Shall we live gods there. Death shall be no sev'rance.
Weary cathedrals light new shrines for us.
To us, rough knees of boys shall ache with rev'rence.
Are not girls' ******* a clear, strong Acropole?
-There our oun mothers' tears shall heal us whole
(C) Wilfred Owen
Hermes Varini Jan 2021
A Lone Walker nowe Ah!
Intae Theis Murky Naycht
‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’,
Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar
Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’,
Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr,
Unfathomable, Unearthly,
Verra Guid Fyre wearin’,
Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine
Awa, awa, IT owre spilled!
Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’,
An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr,
Near-hand ay flashin’,
Rumblin’, guid tremblin’,
Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear
Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’,
An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo!
O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid!
Great Rowth ragin’!
Human nae, nae IT laanger!
Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror,
Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger!
Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och!
Stylle haiwin',
An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued,
Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest!
Athwart ma Solitarye Gait
Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’,
An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT!
O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah!
Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT!
Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine
Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’,
An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht,
Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah!
Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre
Thro’ nae croud strollin’,
Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel
The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun!
Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr
Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine!
Thus Thwndir-Taukin’:

NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES
QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI
ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI
IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE
AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA
ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA
THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO
AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO
DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE
TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT
FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA
ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE
SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
A composition of mine containing an Enigma, in archaic Scottish, as ending in Classical Latin. The empowered Other-Self of the narrator, the Overman himself, at length appears, and finally speaks as a Mirror-Vision. "VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI" means thus "the Banners of the Cosmic Lightning issue forth" and "PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA" "into the Murky Night of the Picts", whereas "ALTA FLAMMA" "through the High Flame" (as thus both instrumental ablatives). "THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT" reads "where Thor of (from) the Goths, joyful descends, from Last Glitnir (Norse sacred location) with his Mighty Hammer, the Fair God who with the High Iron and the Axe, through the Thunder the Unworthy Path cursed". Touching otherwise "IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA", "FORMA" ("form") is looked upon in sheer Aristotelian terms, as thus opposed to matter. It is indicated that the narrator cannot die, for he possesses veins imbued with incorruptible Heraclitean Fire, hence his Night Stroll, in a manner akin to "The Man of the Crowd", is everlasting. "Thae", "Theis" and "Thus" form an alliteration.
Monika Oct 2015
Please*              Open and see

                                       Sweet            ­Dreams
                                   No! Don´t worry, gone will
                                 be the ni gh tmare s.. . when you
                                 turn  ar oun d, an oth er dream
                                    will imme dia tely come...
                                       I have an eye on you
                                            all night long.
                                   From my seat, you can´t
                               really hear  me.  I´m sure you  
                         you won´t. But you should seriously
            know that I´m always here. Noth ing will happen
           to you ... I´m yo ur guardian ... bu t not an ordinary
             one. I´m the                                    sweet little...
                 Teddy                                                  **Bear­
Sweet Jesus! You can´t even imagine how much work did this need... I´m tired! But it was worth it :)
Julie Butler Nov 2015
counting you down -
you are my
noun
& I'd rather be
honest with you
than to be
loud
let us be
calm
  let me
renounce
I took you home with me
into my house
I am still
in love with you
inside my mouth
& you should still
belong with me
ignoring miles
>|< Julie Butler
In the heart of Africa... a tale unfolds,
of oil and gold... diamonds and coal
riches untold... of lands turned cold.
Our soil, a treasure... deep and vast
Yet stolen by shadows from the very past.

Corrupt leaders sit... on lofty thrones
Trading futures... for foreign loans.
They dine in luxury... in gold arrays,
While the people suffer... lost in haze.

The streets are weary... hope is thin
Promises broken... time and time again.
They speak of change... with polished lies
ELÖFÖKANBALÈ... now, our tensions hyped
While poverty stares... through our hollowed eyes.

Politicking thrives... in power’s game
A cycle of faces... but all the same.
The ballot's a joke... the votes erased
Democracy trampled... justice displaced.

The Europeans came... with flags unfurled
Promised progress... but pillaged the world.
From diamonds to oil... they took their fill
Leaving nations hollow... against their will.

They drew the borders... stole the grain
Fed on our sweat... left us in pain.
Our forests felled... our rivers bled
While leaders watched... their pockets fed.

We were taught to be cowards... so we tucked it in,
"Ranti omo eni t'oun sey"... know the child of who you be.
A will passed down from fathers to sons,
To bear the chains even when freedom runs.

Silent we stood, our voices withdrawn,
Like trees in a storm with roots undone.
"Ẹni tó bá dáké, t'ara rẹ́ 'aba daké," they said,
But how do we speak when our spirits have bled?

We were told to bow... to lower our crown
"Be an ọmọlúàbí, dâkê or face the frown".
Yet, in the quiet... there’s power untapped,
In the silence... our future is wrapped

We couldn't win them... so we blend in,
But deep inside, our fight will soon begin.
For now, we rise... refusing to fall.
The courage they silenced, we’ll answer its call.

Leaders of tomorrow; they said it aloud.
But tomorrow never comes... though the promise was proud.
We grew in the shadow of words never true
Waiting for the day when our light would break through.

But the future they spoke of remains out of reach,
A dream deferred by the ones who preach.
"Your hope 'd be renewed"... we were told
Yet they keep us chained in the stories of old.

But now we know, it’s in us to rise.
To break through the lies and open our eyes.
The leaders of tomorrow are here today,
No more waiting... no more delay.

For the time is now... the fight is ours
We’ll claim our strength... our hidden powers.
We’ll lead our own path... let our voices run,
Because tomorrow's promise starts with the rising sun.

Africa's spirit... fierce and bold
Refuses to be bought... Refuses to be sold.
In unity... we'll stand and rise
Reclaim our land... beneath clear skies.

For this is home... where ancestors rest
A future brighter... when we stand our best.
No more chains of greed or lies
Africa will soar... when her people wise.

— The End —