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Mike Virgl Apr 2018
Rhadda Rhadda Rhu Rhadda?
Rhadda, Rhadda Rhadda?
Rhadda Rhadda Rha? Rhadda Rhadda?
Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda Rhad Rhadda Rhad Rhadda Rhadda.

Rhadda Rhadd,Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda.
Rhadda Rhadda Rhad, Rha Rhadda Rhadda,
Rhadda Rhadda, Rhadda Rhadda Rha Rhadda.
Rha Rhadda, Rhadda.

"I dream of what I wish to be."

Rhadda?

Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda.
Rhadda Rhadda.
Rhadda Rha Rhadda, Rha Rhadda Rha Rhadda.
Rhadda, Rha Rhadda, Rhadda.
Rhadda Rha.

Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda, Rha Rhadda Rha Rhadda Rha Rha, Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda.
Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda. Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda, Rha Rhadda. Rha Rha Rhadda Rha.

Rhadda Rhadda Rha, Rhadda Rhadda Rhadda.
Rhadda Rhadda... Rha.

Is death meant to be?
If it is, can we allow it?
Can we tempt God? Is it a Temptation?
A man is just a man and there is one just like him
next to him.

The toil, Oh the toil murders souls.
Children shed their skin, as the knife cuts them,
so that from their blood, nourishment may be provided
for their ravenous, broken dreams.

"I dream of what I wish to be."

Do you?

A man was bound to be a doctor.
As Fate leads many a man.
Yet as fate does often, it changed in favor of a coin toss.
Heads, or tails, the side one.
This side won.

So let my piece be spoken, for my words are soaked and stale, and they are beginning to make me sick.

Never take the first job you find. Never make a decision based on fear, or pride. Never decide based on indecision or instability.

Live for what you wish, and never wish for what you wanted.
It leaves you... Empty

Was this version funny?
I guess it wasn't foreign sounding, now,
It sounded harsh and biting.
I guess because you finally could understand it,
it finally meant something.
Foreign things are very funny.
Meri pehchan shirf itni hai ki "I'm born in INDIA" Bharat meri pehchan h, Bharat mera samman h, Bharat mera Abhimaan h
||
Aap mujhshe sab kuch cheen sakte **, mera tan mera lahu par meri pahchaan mujhse Bhartiya hone ki nahi cheen sakte aur wahi meri identity hai, mai bhartiya hu mujhe iss par bahot garv hai or iss se uper koi garv mujhe chahie v nahi ||
Mai Bharat maa ka beta hu pahle ,uske baad ek maa ne mujhe janm dia h is sthal bharat bhumi par ussi ki lie kuch likha tha ye ki..
KAASH MERI ZINDGI ME SARHAD KI KOI SHAAM AAYE
KAASH MERI ZINDGI MERE WATAN KE KAAM AAYE
NAA KHAUF HAI MAUT KA OR NAA AARJU HAI JANNAT KI
MAGAR JAB KABHI ZIKR ** SAHEEDO KA
KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE
This is what i would love to introduce myself like that....
Agar koi puche ki kaun tha wo -
JAB KOI PUCHE MERE BAARE ME
TO MERI YE PEHCHAAN LIKH DENA
UTHANA MERA COMMANDO DAGGER
OR CHATTI PAR HINDUSTAAN LIKH DENA
KOI PUCHE PAGAL THA WO KAUN
TO BHAGAT SINGH OR KRANTIKARIO KA CHELA
OR INQUILAB KA GULAM LIKH DENA
AUR BACHA ** JO **** ME LAHU
NIKALNA USSE OR FEKANA ZAMEEN PE
OR MAA TUJHE SAALAM LIKH DENA
Yhai parichaye tha hai or rahega...... |||||||||
Aaj kal bahot ek mudda chal rha h Desh bhakti kuch logo ne usse Hinduo se jod dia kuch ne mushlmaano se kuch ne sikkho se kuch ne ishayeo se, ek baat yaad rakhna hum pehchaan hai Ek aisa mahavidyalaya ek aisa university (its like an university ,its like a college the country is like college, we may have different wings, we may have different subjects but we all belong to une college/ university and that is Bharat ||
aaj bahot jaruri ** gya uss ‪#‎traitor‬ us gaddar ya behter language me usse ‪#‎gaddar‬ or ‪#‎Chutia‬ khenge..
lets talk about that person jisne har fauji har iss bharat maa ke bete ko hurt kia h aaj uske baare me baat karna bahot jaruri ** gya h
Naa hinduo se naa mushalmano se
iss mulk ko taqleef hai gaddar or baemaano se
jinhe hum haar samajh baithe the
gala apana sajane ko
wahi ab naag ban baithe
humhi ko kaat khane ko
Pichle 2-3 mahine, it has been disturbing me a lot " I being an Indian ,I being a simple son of this motherland feel hurt ..
Bura lagta haikaaran ye hai log kahte hai hum kuch kar nahi sakte
"Aisa hai karne par aa jaye to bahot kuch kar sakte hai , lekin hum samman karte hai bharat ke sarrwoch nyayalay ka (Supreme court ka )" or uske aadesh ki awhelna nahi karna chahte hai , uske aadesh ka paalan karte hue kuch gaddaro ko aaj v chod rakha hai,
warna aisa hai kaam hi haddia todne ka or jaan lene ka hindustani fauz karti hai |
kisi ne kaha mai unn gaddaro ka naam lena v pasand nahi karunga,bcz wo itna v deserve nahi karte ki unka naam is juban par aaye
but ek cheej bolna bahot jaruri hai ''ki Bhartiya senaa ****** hai"
Agar gharo me baithe ** naa or tumhari behne or tumhari maaye ghar se nikal kar jaa rahi hai to sirf ye hindustani fauz hai jiski dumm pe tumne bhai hone kaa baap hone ka farz nahi nibhaya hoga "this is the only indian armed forces which maintain the degnity of a soldier nad maintains that brotherhood" aapki bahne aapki maaye agar surakshit hai to wo bharat ki senaye hai jiske kaaran hai , bolne ke pahle socha karo or kismat bahot acchi thi ki fauz ke saamne nahi bola warna jo Hero bana di na iss desh ne ,fauz tum jaise ko choddti bhai nahi ....magar ye bharat ka samvidhan hai "there is the constitution of India" jisne baandh rakha hai humare haatho ko , Krodh karna meri aadat nahi hai magar aata hai gussa islie aata hai kyuki chanakya ne kaha ki akshar maine juthe logo ko mushkurate hue dekha hai .. jo sach bolta hai or dil se bolta haai usko gussa bahot aata hai or ye gussa iss bat ka hai ki iss desh me kutto ko maarne ki permission nahi hai isliye abhi tak bache hue ** "Ask ur sister ask ur family members ,if there are 10 young boys & if there is a single soldier ,ask a young girl where would you go for the help and whom would she ask for the help & i insure this that girl would go to a soldier and ask and she will say one thing suddenly she will use this word Bhaiya meri help kijie" kya hai ye jawani sambhal nahi rahi hai to batao 23 saal me Saheed Bahagat Singh,
Ram Prashad Bishmil bada bada kaam kar ke chale gye, bahot garmi aree sena join karo bharat ki fauz me aaodushmano se lado naaghar ke ander kyu dushmani ka mahaool banate **.....
Kisi ek bewkoof ne ye kah diya ki Bhagat Singh jaisa hai ,Abe sharm karo and clear ur facts before you compare that guy with revolutionaries, kaun the wo or kiski baat kar rahe ** uss inshaan ki who can't deliver two right sentences in one particular languages,
Aap uski comparison kar rahe ** jo Bharat ke samvidhan ko gaddar kah rha hai..
Thik hai bolne ki azadi hai magar ye azadi di kisne hai ," The freedom has been given to you bye the constitution of this country,The Honorable Supreme Court has some guidelines the honorable constitution of this country has some guideline and we must respect that "
Aap kaise Bhartiya sena ko ****** kah sakte ** sharm karo uss sentence par agar aaj v bacchia surakshit hai if the Indian youth if everybody who ever is doing what ever they want to do if this freedom has been given to them is just because of one thing that Indian Army ,Navy,Airforce, Indian armed forces are fighting for you day and night.
Jab tum sone jaate ** tab unki duty ka waqt shuru hota hai , sharm khao iss baat k lie aur yaad rakho Bharat ko todne ki koshish mat karo
Naa hinduo se naa mushlmano se
Iss mulk ko taqleef thi hai gaddaro se or bayemano se .
Or yaad rakho "Apni azadi ka galat upyog mat karo "
JAI HIND
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
Shrivastva MK Sep 2015
Meri muskurahat sirf tum se hai,
Meri khushi sirf tum se hai,
Kyon anjaan banke itna tadpate ** mujhe ye jaankar bhi ki,
meri zindagi sirf tum se hai,
meri zindagi sirf tum se hai...

Aankhen nam kar kahan chale gye tum
yu bnake mujhe zinda lash,
sisak-sisak ke ro rha dil ye mera
banke wo dardila aawaj,
ye phulo ki khushboo sirf tum se hai,
meri zindagi sirf tum se hai,
meri zindagi sirf tum se hai...
Shrivastva MK Mar 2018
Jis phul ne koi galati hi nahi ki, Use kis baat ki saza diya ja rha hai,
Es duniya me aane se pahle hi kyu use maar diya ja rha hai,

Ai Khuda kyu aise janwar ko tune banaya,
Ek chhoti kali ko pet me hi maar khud ko insaan btaya,

Na maaro us phul ko jisme us bhagwan ka hai waas,
Ek din aisa aayega jab ** jayega puri shristi ka naas

Arey nasamjh insaan sirf bete ki hi aas lagaoge,
To phir maa, behan aur dulhan kahan se paoge,

Mata-Pita ki galati ki saza us chhoti kali ko diya jata hai,
Ek chhote se andhere ghar me hi use maar diya jata hai,

Wo kali bhi baar baar unlogo se karti pukar,
Hey Maa-Baba mujhe pet me hi mat maar,

Ye duniya ek baar mujhe bhi dikha de,
Apne amrit ki ek ghunt mujhe bhi pila de,


Nanhi si jaan tou hai bekasoor,
Maar kar hi aakhir kyu milta hai pathar dilon ko suroor,

Wo bhi dekhna chahti hai duniya,
Janam lene se pehle hi Jaan gawani padti hai oo gudiya,

Apne hi hathon ukhed dete hai apne hi aangan ka phool,
Kaisa hai ye bereham logon ka usool,

Kismat wale hote hai wo insaan,
Jinki kokh mein dete hain betiyan bhagwaan,

Beti hai ishwar ka hai en anmol uphaar,
Jeene ka us nanhi jaan ko bhi hai adhikaar,

Sharam aati hai logo ki is ghatiya soch par,
Taras aata hai unpar
Jo apne hi ansh ka dete hain maar
Devi ka karte hain jo tiraskaar,

Banao ek naya usool
Beti ko karo qubool

Jeevan ka hai ye adhaar
Banta hai inhi se sansaar,

Likh us phul ka dard hamari aankhen bhar aai,
Teri banai duniya me O mera khuda ye teri kaisi khudai..
Ye teri kaisi khudai...


Collaboration by Manish Shrivastava and Sonia Paruthi
Shrivastva MK Jun 2017
Ai khuda kyon hansa ke mujhe rula rha,
Mere chhupe dard ko aur bada rha,
Nahi jih sakta mai unke bin,Ye jankar bhi
Kyon unke pyar me mujhe tadpa rha,
Tha mai neend me
or mujhe itna
Sajaya jaa rhaa tha
bade pyar se mujhe
Nahlaya jaa raha tha,

Naa jane
tha wo kaun saa ajab khel
mere ghar me
Baccho ki tarah mujhe
kandhe par
Uthaya jaa raha tha,

Tha paas mera
har apana uss waqt
fir v mai
har kisi ke man se
Bhulaya jaa raha tha,

Jo kabhi
dekhte v naa the
Mohabbat ki nigahoo se
unke dil se v
pyar mujh par
Lutaya jaa raha tha,

Maalum nahi
kyu hairaan tha har koi
Mujhe sote hue dekh kar
jor jor se rokar
Mujhe jagaya jaa raha tha,

Kaap uthi meri ruh
wo manjar dekhkar
jaha mujhe
Humesha ke lie
Sulaya jaa raha tha,

Mohabbat ki intaha thi
jin dilo me mere lie
Unhi dilo ke haatho se
aaj mai
Jalaya jaa rha tha!!!!!
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
Follow me on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/skdisro
(Inspired by my great grandfather)

Capt: Albert Victor Champion RHA

Children of the Somme, men of mud and water
killed by lead and steel, for them no last supper
no last meal. Children of the Somme, consumed
by mud and water, sent in there thousands
to their slaughter.
Nerves that were shattered,breath that was shallow
felled in fields that were lifeless and fallow.
Hearts that were pounding, bodies that trembled
as in the trenches men assembled.
like an order from god they awaited there place,
to go over the top and stare death in the face.
Men of all nations men of all ages; condemned
to there death and the history books pages.

Lest we forget..................... Remember them.
Shrivastva MK Feb 2017
Nam ** jati Hai aankhey
Ye baat soch kar,
Kyun chale jate Hai log
Aksar kisi ka dil tod Kar,
Jite Zindagi bhi ban jati maut us din
Jis din chale jate wo Pal kisi ki saans ban Kar,

Khele jate Hai es duniya me
Dil ka zajbat ban Kar,
Dete Hai dhokha yaha log aksar
Kisi ka khaas ban Kar,
Sabko pta hota Hai anjaam pyar ka
Phir kyon rote log kisi se pyaar Kar,

Pyar andha hota Hai phir
Kyon pyar karte log surat dekh Kar,
Jinka pyar sachha Hai wo
Amar ** jate Hai Mar Kar,
Ghut Ghut ke Ji rha hu
Mai ab zinda lash ban Kar...
Ek zinda lash ban Kar...
Feelings of love and life
Shrivastva MK Jun 2017
MAA
Maa tere aanchal me humne Sara sansaar dekha hai,
Maa tere aankhon me humne khushiyo ka bahar dekha hai,

Maa tere charano me humne swarg ka dwar dekha hai,
Maa tere dil me humne baccho ke liye pyar dekha hai,

Maa tune Hume sabse pyaar aur samman karna sikhaya hai,
Maa tune srishti Ki rachna kar Ghar ko jannat banaya hai,

Najane bhagwan ne Maa ko kis mitti se banaya hai,
Khud sabhi dard chhupa kar Hume hasaya hai,

Maa tune Hume nau mahine kokh me rakhkar najane kitne dard uthaya hai,
Janm ke baad apna dudh pilakar Hume buddhimaan aur takatwar banaya hai,

Khud roya zindagi bhar jisne Maa ko rulaya hai,
Bhojan ke liye khud bhatakta rha jisne Maa ko bhukhe sulaya hai,

Maa ki sewa karo kyoki esne Duniya bnaya hai,
Khud bhukhe rahkar  bhi hume khilaya hai,

Duniya ka sabse sachha Gyan  Maa  Papa  me hi sikhaya hai,
Khud bhale hi padhe likhe na ** lekin aapko padhakar ek safal insaan banaya hai....
About Mother,and specially dedicated to my lovely Mother
Manvee Chauhan Apr 2020
Kuch ajnabi si halchal..
Kuredd rhi hamare Dil ko pal pal!!
Najaane kya bayaan krna chahti h..
Shayad aane waali koi aandhi h, Jo Hume barbaad krna chahti h!!
Najjane kya Sandesh lekar aai...
Shayad nhi samjh paa rhe hum iski gehraai!!
Kuch andherapan sa chaa rha h...
Jo Hume shayad pal pal maar rha hai!!
Kuch to ajeeb baat hai...
Shayad aane waali ek kaali Raat h!!
Shayad koi apna hi hai iske piche..
Jo dhakel rha Hume sabse niche!!
Shayad qismat mein hai yahi Likha ...
Ki Hain hum uski life ka ek maamuli sa sikka!!
Jo shayad koi keemat nhi rakhta h...
Lekin vo shayad nhi jaanta ki ye sikka Uske liye Jaan Dene ki Bhi himaat rakhta h!!!!!
                                    - manvee chauhan
Rohini Raj Jun 2015
Kis pe kru bharosa ,
Na khud pe yakeen hai .
Manjil na mil paya ,
Or raahi bichar gaye
Is dagar pe chal ke ,
Aayi thi itne dur
Badi muskkat se
Par ki thi ye dastur
Har kar ruk gayi ,
Us manjil par,
Jhaha kabhi ham roj chala krate the ,
Aaj ye jindgi wahi ruki
Jisse ham dur rha krte the ....
Jiss pe karu brosa na khud pe yakin hai....

     Rohini
khamoshiyan  ki ghata
Shrivastva MK Jun 2017
Kitni azeeb hai ye Duniya kitne ajeeb log,
Koi kisi ko dara rha, kuchh sahme sahme se log,
Bada muskil hai esko samjhna,
Yaha palbhal me baldate hai log,

Humne bhi socha tha Ki jawane ko badalenge hum,
Ek nayi soch ke sath ek hokar chalenge hum,
Par ye dekh kar dil tut gya Jab ek hi dali ke chaar phoolon ne kaha,
Nahi hum khilenge,aur nahi ek dusre se milenge hum,

Roh deti hai kalam bhi likhkar dard jawane ka,
Kuda-Kachra nadiyon me kya haal bna diya Bharat ke khazane ka,
Roti ke liye tadapte sadak par log,
Aur yahan pariyojna chalai ja rhi desh ko smart banane ka,

Gareeb ko roti kapda aur makan chahiye,
Kisano ko es desh me apni ek pahchan chahiye,
Sabhi ko samjhe ek barabar,
Aisa deshbhakt insaan chahiye,
Aisa deshbhakt insaan chahiye....
So ashamed to watch and write the real figure of Indian village and their peaples here lots of problems and leaders come at the term of election after electing they havent come till day...
...
Tanuj Bhati Dec 2015
[] Ldkiyo pr ** rha  h atiyachaar
[ ]
[
] Hum dekh rhe hoke laachaar
[ ]
[] Ldkiya kr rhi desh k hr insaan se ek hi pukaar
[ ]
[
] Jago or in aatiyachaariyo ka kr do vinaas
[ ]
[] Kya dalega is gungi bhri srkaar ka achaar
[ ]
[
] Din pr din bad raha is desh me bhirstachaar
[ ]
[] Ab wo din aagya jb sbko uthana h hathiyaar
[ ]
[
] Or krna h sbko milkr in jalimo ka satiyanass
[ ]
[] Ksm khate h  fir na hoga damini jsa kisi k sath
[ ]
[
] Fir hr ldki niklegi ghar se hokr bilkul aajaad
[ ]
[]  ldkiyo pr ** rhe h atiyachaar
[ ]
[
] Dekh rhe h hum hoke laachaar
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
i was aiming to sort out some computer
details outside the realm
of the corporate world of hierarchy...
something like that...
talking to a 56 year old kazakh in
romford: about the turks and the mongols...
about giving up smoking (not really):
and how i am addicted to carbon
monoxide while he is bagging big chews
from the nicotine gum: fiddly fingers
and something akin to peeling carrots
and power-tame-toes!
fiddles for foreskins...
in this one instance i am... beside buying
into... "the narrative"...
a crown descends...
   a crow is the equivalent of crown:
phonetically: in greek... amore...
                  the rest of the day completed
itself... with me walking from
Chadwell Heath to Romford...
marking my feet on a shortcut through
the green belt...
the traffic noises died...
i just stood in a middle of a field
the vikings might have envied...
no no no...
   the blistering azure piercing breath
and making me embody a loitering of a soul...
three birds of prey...
how is it... that birds of prey rarely
flap their wings... they... just... hover...
impossibly perfect...
they hone in on something...
circle around and around
like a vultures' manifesto...
     i was waiting to see the dive
but i didn't see it: not out of impatience...
i was in a secluded partition of england
yet i was still attempting to buy a bicycle
in Chadwell Heath -
i looked at myself not looking at
anything prior...
this solitary whitey:
i don't mind the remark...
thank god the slaves of colour want
to either see no colour or... too...
the hues of copper, cinnamon...
      teases of cacao...
                           a cuban ****...
                so much was poured into
a runic revision -
    best: an invigoration...
                    toothpicks for words:
an arithmetic of my teeth...
        i am beside myself welcoming
the intrusion of "minority":
perhaps in little ol' removed Swansea -
i am the lord mayor the city might
need me...
   in somewhere like Chadwell Heath...
buying a lion white chocolate bar
is perhaps sub-cultural -
the same old pauper of what-a-load of
violins bundled up on a bench
by the church... a last imploring gesture...
drinking that gorgon's blood
of a dutch equivalent of carlsberg's
spezial broo (or -ew)...
          on these isles: these bright and beautiful
isles:
you can't "sell me": the irish are still
speaking... english?!
the irish are not speaking gaelic -
my god... this terrible hammer from
Lincolnshire -
     when and as to how...
the Welsh took it upon themselves
to become this sacred heaven of bilingualism -
so much for learning Dutch -
or... Bel-ge-an -
  Flemz? Flimsy Choc-a-Block...
       choke on a tired rubber of a tire...
stage a newbie ***** flick from
the dungeons of **** Bruges...
or some ***** / wide my pony: rha rha rho...
that the Welsh still cling to a tongue:
spirit pairing:
of the Polacks under the geography
of the third partition...
of the czechs under the habsburgs -
          history as a fetish...
no... more... "natural selection" beside
the already prescribed antics of ape ****
and meteor... and time impossible...
to have... selective historicism...
naturally?
             that "we" are at a stage where
something is deemed necessary - otherwise not...
but then again it's not...
since: who the hell will remember "us"?
i drink... but i also write...
i guess the writing is more of an exercise
in amnesia than the drinking -
the drinking helps: in that i am more blunt,
boringly honesty:
un-spec-tac-ular for the best...
  i just can't imagine myself writting anything
worse than a journalistic tabloid
palette will allow...
    sure: no rhyme no river for a narrtive:
concretely focused on an (a) through to a (z)...
pay... i guess the concept of
pay is showing through...
          well then... my whittle hobby:
my whittle: it can become impossible -
that the secular niqab
   will not protect you from the stench
of old goats' **** in a public toilet -
the solipsism of farting in a cogested
public "picturesque"...
to have to believe in both narratives:
the mainstream of lies and these -
offshoots of the best / better informed...
my little paranoid agenda is no
agenda... but enough of my beard
shackles a: thorough "through"...
red is longer a bull pointer antagonist...
up could be a down...
but it's not that: well... it is...
that people made a constituted forward:
towing - best kept replicas...
how could it be possible to procrastinate
a diminishing of transcendence:
that freedom is already a pork-pie glutton
and constipation...
"think-tanks"...
      tanks... ego rifles?
      shoot the dummy... play the cerebral
palsy mannequin tossing...
the utopia of hyperhondriacs...
a diaspora of polacks and the greeks...
that the machinery has been
well established... that the machine has
been well oiled...
and is "econimally" sound...
     gentle rub rub gentlest rubbing rub-up...
and down...
and my flesh this least copernican
crux... which has not orientated
itself around either sun, star...
earth or moon...
          
            expanding cycle lanes will
not bring about a new dutch republic...
nor will i sell a pancake for
the purpose of levelling the himalayas...
this brittle conundrum of bogus...
two narratives:
alter-alter -
what-if and... what-if...
                but red's not red:
there's no shawl for a hemmingway
for sooner last:
for a Catalonia...
to romance the world afresh...
but now there's a McDonalds in
Stockholm: future knowledge...
a globalist ghetto -

how the joke that  was once
Sweden is no longer...
this same... cyclops of culture mantra...
of lore: Sveeden: "so tolerant"...
and now the world and no...
this is not a world...
based on the focus of scrutiny
of a world: no... there's
no heidegger's dasein:
there's...

the magic trick for the masses...
which is much more spectacular...
and how willing there's a dulling of perception..
i am of the custard pie...
i am the custard pie...
            
              hiersein: "there" or "here" of...
ahem...                wohin?
that word comes with a question puncture...
you don't actually use the word:
where... without a question mark... no?
you can compound a complexity
akin to heidegger's with: here-being
alias "concern"...
well then... the solipsism of: "over-there"...
a pointer... it's a lack of reconciling the masses
with any ontological... "scrutiny"...

plus up: ++++ pardons for:
blistering of and this leftover scab of narrative...
before the double knee of
b.l.m. and beijing -
now... best left with fighting the nazis...
i'll say it outright...
best left with fighting the nazis...
best fighting a well attired SS-man
in some hugo boss suit...
of pristine khaki... grey or black...
but no... not now...
dulling of suits...
              
   now i'm on par with the argument:
i want nazis! i want to fight nazis!
oh... wait... they're not blonde...
or german or... believe me:
they could have hidden in the Crimean
peninsula...
             but no... but not now...
i want to fight: the *******: good-luck
joke of history...
but this evil is so bland...
it's so terrestrial...
   the same mundane evil coupled
with my own terrestrial existence probing
of conversation / no argument...

the Welsh still speak: "Welden"...
   Velsh... in a climate where... the union
jack is looking up the h'american *******...
but the scots but the irish don't retain
their ******* gaelic...
good for you:
like a nuanced slang of the english cricketer...
tourist... hello... world...
tourist... hello world...
               my now new reality:
legal immigration this little ******...
this no burden of a Ruś -
a warraring burden from a scent in the air...
that there's no concrete:
sulphur stinking zeppelin ruining the skies
at: come night... come lazily this lost day...
this lost day...

once more: when st. patrick met up
with a mule that became
a farce and a ghost-face
of sitting loiter:
anti-saint: humpty-coŁal-sky-
             dumps a truce...
valiant against the propaganda cogs
and blockages...
the retorts of the salvaged plumber...
my new authority: my lost authority...
F'f'f'f'fever pitch for a hannibal...

Carthage must counter: euthanasia...
me best sold "neuter"...
that there is an unconvincing this:
bias this base...
******* on a whiskey soaked
cigarette...
that a guinness can only be drank
from a glass of a measure of a pint...
don't blister me with
this and these details of a gargantuan
t'is... i want a poetry on the basis
of future: dead...

            ****-soaked revelation
of a brick willing: to sell a "hybrid"
sorta-glue: a congestion...
           this my sacred ****...
my tongue this lesser oyster -
      a skull that cannot fathom
   the jaw line...
      witness my own very little...
my leisured attention span...
no new no wriggling of index
as the best pickled earth-worn...

              habitually: a shirt worn
to expand upon an objectivity for
the tow of a shirt with...
creases...
this lesser ambiguity of
a prompt that preserves itself
with a: lost project of ambiguity -

that we somehow accepted
a new, a nuance... a blister and a heaving...
catterpillar dues...
count! count the arithmetic per-take!
back in the ***** of mother russia...
little people do little things...
big people do: crab load of ****:
this sort of philanthrophy...
because: aghast...
the mistantrophe is the next
best fang...
like chewing gum and mawler
of a fake tooth:
my best kept bones...

              heritage of radio and a ******...
but, once upon a time...
my little overt detailing...
romance mr. marshall this little
casablanca and my own tunis -
chasing shadows with
a little insy-winsy spiders to tow...
my own cob...
my own prague pangs of summer
that they are still:
the cobblestones to resound
with horse hoofs...

the last... lost... project...
to have to rejuvinate the revision
of the roman empire...
that there was no james joyce's ullyses
from 200 AD...
there was an old greek in
the new greek in the byzantine choral
chant...
     goody-goody-fwyfays
2020 my lost year...
the year when i begged for a slack:
a diminished point of a pair of *******...
how sober somehow worked...
that drunk was no new sensible...
doubt and its plethora of all the least
possible jargon of emotions:
a McDowell a McCurieal...
   a Dot MacKenzzies...
a lord assumption of surnames that:
there was no ever...
Hogwarts of the choicest of godfather
names... when this blessed babe
of the agony srap..
this tendering of bones...
          my little mongolia...
a variation of Kiev that could expand
into Ukraine...
                       but: ah... now...
a little chisel of england or...
aa bandage off...
this whittle hinter of big bypass flyover
most pristine:
utopia h'americana...
                          Boston bleeds:
Chigaco sort of... fakes...
on the cackle of a letter...
gate? i say... Gate?
      shique: cack: ago: co: go...
no "lord assumption"...
my lord this same ***** diary
this rusty panser..
                                 and i have
to somehow embarass myself
with a "belief" in a... god?!

                  of the non-exisstence of
a god among "sensible" people...
this little deity of transcending...
my quest for a satanic project
gorgon...
         stashed up conjure:
of.. the death-litany...
my own explanation...
            my own little wording that
has to arrive at a...
******* and a variation of hues
that borrows from green...
blue... and the mediating...
              hard-world-of-grey...
this my loosening of tendons...
the easing of muscle to tow
some fat...
my new: hammering...
chicken shackles...
rummanating the lost
ordeal of the perpliexing *** ordeal
of catholicism -
time to *******! time to!

my best pointers:
corpus christi:
we did start off with cannibalism...
we did start off with cannibalism...
metaphorical?
was it ever really a posit of
images that were only read by braille
sooths?
christianity is a cannibalism...
it's so hertbreaking that:
there's no god or an infinite man
of the little things to make
a composition of polyphony...

i can't read into a jesus when there's
the cannibalism:
a "metaphor" for a metaphysics...
a death of poetry: hell...
**** me for the necessary death
of rhyme...
            now "jew" like any basic
posit of a yew...
    prior to the real established
scrutiny of a nation-state...
which has to be fathomed
with Israel...
the hebrews have finally found
their: woke and roll...

           the jews were excused from
towing along to the crucifix...
and when all was done...
and this new camel jockey prize...
king crimson...
isn't cited: unless in the spanish circles
along with portishead...

i have desired this blatant death
that it might contend with Barcelona...
or a sequence if a brothel
from Bulgaria imitating throttle Thailand...
my little ex-girlfriend...
come 5am... and it is still
oxford st. and a flagship wake-me-up...
this old leveraging London matters...
i am but the sharpnel of words
that cannot possible reproduce:
brick-top sensibilities...

my litter interludes basket of futurist "what if"
existences in the Bedlam of epitaphs...
i might have been crowned the prince
of Anjou...
   i might have cradled the thirds
of the third crusade...
i might just as well be the beggar from
the annals of history making journalistic
progressions... to sow: death... to tow...
belittling creases of lost
adventures... creasing the skin prone:
proof... a detail of a scalp that's not...
  em... retail... wigs...
                          you wanna make me a glutton:
fist based... there was no turmeric involved...
the "convenience"...
yes... a bone-ah-tomahawk...
  my best attired cannibal...
it's such a taming project...
i want to be chemically sedated by disproofs...
but then... i am...
squandering what little i have
of romancing russia...
or thereby greece...

  this is the part where i try to borrow from
a differentiation of...
second from last:
stream of borrowed cocktails...
or...
my best screaming streamer -
i nice unto you...
you...
no... i very much like this cul de sac
of: i nice unto you...
why? the work invites no
technicality that can be
detailed into a trans-generational...
my last Epicurus joke...

crease a child an ultimatum of
competition...
conjunctions of grief...
not biggest thank you...
i thank you as to why
i... not because i wanted
to drink...
sober people are splits and
just plain boring...
towing toes to tango:
no game of twos...
sober people have no...

   my best tomato ketchup fake
blood load of argumentation...
bias / basis...
generic *******...
cause no happy bride:
was ever to be prized...
or prided..
my little gimmick wonderland
of a shtick...
no thank god i never married...
thank god i toiled around
with...
bread-knit...
and... cuneiform woke...
best kept islam: a foretold
variation of agriculture...
the plantation ridicule plumber of
eastern european choice:
****-dumbdumb...
dies with... incorporated
neu-Birmingham...
******* polacks...
too proud to think they could replace
us *****: first prized Pakis...

ahem... yes... what?!
this be Westminster...
tax haven collector's bias?
do i have a face that might coincide with:
i had...
but right now?
no... i couldn't give a tonne's load
of ******* to mind
it being a copernican: first invoked
sort of... affair...
savvy?!

— The End —