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And on the day when
He shall gather them all together:
O assembly of jinn!
you took away a great part of mankind.
And their friends from among the men shall say:
Our Lord! some of us profited by others
and we have reached our appointed term
which Thou didst appoint for us.
He shall say:
The fire is your abode,
to abide in it, except as Allah is pleased;
surely your Lord is Wise, Knowing.

Holy Quran
The Cattle
6:128

Do you build on every height a monument? Vain is it that you do:
And you make strong fortresses that perhaps you may
And when you lay hands (on men) you lay hands (like) tyrants;

Holy Quran
The Poets
26: 128-130


The desert Jinn of Cairo
flit and dance
upon the burning waters
of the Nile.

The midnight streets gasp
with the turgid fragrance
of tear gas and jasmine

The stink of the
ungrateful dead
riles the nostrils
of indifferent gods
laughing
at the litter of corpses
strewn along
torpid boulevards
in this city of lament

Unbounded crowds dash
amongst fleeting shadows
the agitated ghosts
of undead generations
refusing to stay buried
blink to life
in epileptic frenzy

The timeless city
civilizations
fertile floodplain
authored
western cultures
opening chapters
housed mythic libraries
erected mysterious
stone tributes
esteemed
monarchical opulence
now yields
frenetic outbursts
of Arab fury
writing
an epilogue
to a despots rule
the blessed end
to an imperial age

Rampant corruption
asphyxiating bureaucracy
malicious suppression
syphilitic exploitation
rabid oppression
enforced ignorance
human defilement
are the bitter
sediments
of degradation
layered in crushing piles
upon the lowly masses
on this delta of sorrows
breeding revolution
to unravel a tyrants
specious claim
to perpetual rule

The city
streets
flood with
militant
insistence.

Emboldening
a peoples will
to rise up
beating hearts
pounding
a sonic drum
resonating
through
this age
foretelling
a turn
in history's
creaking wheel.

Allah Allah
Allah Akbar!
bleats
from parsed lips
from underground
brotherhoods
the rising words
sharper then
Saladin's Sword

The Holy Quran
flows like boiling blood
in agitated hearts
dissidents pound
bloodied fists
against intractable walls
of monolithic power

Visions of liberation
a democratic paradise
an infinite harem
of compliant virgins
swim in the heads
of dissidents in motion
as baying throats
exhort comrades
shouting brave
seditious slogans
to engage
bullets
batons
water cannons
and unsure outcomes.

I heard a young woman say
"I have faith in my people
and faith in my country."
Never a more foolhardy sentiment been expressed,
nor braver words have I ever heard.

As the laughing Jinn of Cairo
flit and dance
atop the burning waters
of the Nile.

A city
self immolating
atop a pyre
of blood stained stones
dry constricting fables
passed down along
marching epochs
hieroglyphic puzzles
recorded on
crumbling papyrus
wrapped in
holy legends
of mystical pharaohs
receiving an exiled
Father Ibrahim
fresh from
the destruction
of *****
cedes to the
Lord of Fear
spawns a lie
and gives
Sister Sarai
over to the
unholy whims
of profane
magistrates

Abe's skin saved
soul preserved
the generations
multiply
more numerous
then the countable stars
in a known universe
not vast enough
to find room for
Hagar's cursed progeny
-call him Ishmael-
a wild ***
exiled to
Desert of Paran
siring many
lesser Semites
becoming
a strong archer
in the vast legions
in timeless
service to
an uninterrupted line
of deranged Pharaohs

This scorned land
grew the
grievous reeds
swaddling
Baby Mussa
who turned
the river of
his arrival
into a flood
of gushing blood
who split the waters
to consume
the raging armies
of marauding charioteers
bent on the annihilation
of their chosen
Semitic half brothers

The shame
agitates
the simmering
rage of ambivalence
gladly sacrificing
these historic
treasures
on angry
bonfires
tipping
the glories
of Alexandria
into the sea
once again

Up stairways
down dark alleys
the Jinn of Cairo
dance
haunting ruins
hurling stones
burning buildings
looting stores
smashing artifacts
cursing the bitter bread
of tyrants
chasing
the black echos
of deadly gunfire

Nasser's
dead soldiers
gather in corporeal legions
a proud nations
undead generation
mythic heroes
dashed in Six Days
rise from
shallow graves
of Sinai
shame is loosed
to stalk targets
heated enemies
setting aflame
the burning waters of
a very blue
unsettled Nile

The unholy platoons
Sadat's assassins
hurl grenades
like thunderbolts
from jealous Zeus
implores Mars
to join the fray
rousting the specter
of dead kings
and a terrorized
President
living in the black days
of his final nights

Tell Ole Pharaoh
to go back to the hell
from whence he came
as the laughing
Jinn of Cairo
dance on  the
burning waters
of the Nile.


Music Selection:
Randy Weston: Blue Moses
(WIP)
1/31/11
Ayoko na lamang bilangin ang mga oras
Na nasisinagan pa tayo ng araw,
Maghahabulan at magtatampisaw na parang mga basang sisiw
Sa hubad na kalsadang naunang pagalitan ng langit.

Naaalala ko pa noong elementarya'y
Sabay tayong papasok sa eskwela
Matapos humigop ng mainit na sopas ni Nanay.
At minsan nga'y nakalilimutan nyang hanguin ito nang maaga
Kaya matapos nating kumain ay sabay rin tayong magtatawanan
At maglalaro ng "tag-tagan" patungo sa kanto sa sakayan.

Hindi ba't pumupunta pa nga tayo sa may bandang iskwater,
Makapaglaro lang ng pitsaw sa dati nating mga kaklase?
Nagagalit kasi si Nanay kapag sa bahay natin sila niyayaya
At magkakalat ang putik sa ating sahig
Kasi pati si Bantay ay nakisali sa paghuhukay.

Ilang beses din tayong naligo sa dagat
Kahit na ang sabi ni Tatay ay manginas muna tayo
Habang siya ay nasa laot pa.
Pero uuwi tayong mga basa at walang pang-ulam na pasalubong
Kaya muli tayong mapagagalitan
Kasi ang titigas daw ng mga ulo natin.

Hindi ba nahuli ako sa eskwela noon na nangongopya sa'yo?
Tapos sinabi mo sa titser na ikaw ang nangongopya at 'di ako?
Hindi ko kasi makalimutan yun
Kasi pag-uwi natin sa bahay, ako pa yung nagtampo sayo
Nung ikaw yung unang pumili sa doughnut na dala ni Tatay.

At nung gabing iyon, hindi ako tumabi sa'yong matulog
Ang sabi ko pa ay ayaw na kitang makita muli
Kasi naghalo-halo na yung nasa utak ko.
Pero alam mo ba, na sa mga oras na yun
Hindi ko talaga inaasahang seseryosohin mo yun.

Kaya noong maggising na lamang ako'y
Nagulat akong wala sila Nanay at Tatay
At si Aling Rosing pa ang nagsabi sa'kin
Kung ano ang mga nangyari
At kung saan ako pupunta.

Sinabi ko na ngang ayoko na magbilang ng mga oras,
Pero heto pa rin ako...
At taon-taon akong nangungulila at nagsisisi.

Siguro nga kung hindi ako natulog agad
Ay baka may naggawa pa ako.
Siguro nga kung hindi ko sinabi ang mga iyon,
Ay hindi mo ring magagawang umalis.

At siguro nga kung hindi ako nagtampo'y
Wala naman talaga tayong pag-aawayan.
Hindi ka rin hahanapin nila Nanay sa gitna ng gabi
At hindi sila masasagasaan ng tren para iligtas ka lang.

Siguro nga, pero huli na ang lahat eh
Wala na kayong lahat at iniwan n'yo na 'kong mag-isa.
Sana sa huli kong pagbisita'y mawala na rin ang lahat ng bigat,
Mawala na ang pagkamuhi ko sa sarili ko,
Kasi pagod na ako...
Pagod na pagod na ako.
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Be so fractioned
my split personality be split
Never know who's comin' out
Kinda like the laundry mat
Does mine at the Wishy Washy

Funny how things get all separated
Whites all in a pile over here
Darks and colors over there
Breaks it down even further

Gotta lotta red
so that gets its own pile
whilst medium and light colors
be divided

Blacks and blues
just lumped together
Then it just gets all mixed up again

'Cause truth is
don't gots the dough to through
down that many loads

This riles Señorita Clarita
Thinks I'm cheap
so mostly, I end up lookin' like some
techno tie-dyed fruit basket
in girly pants

Yeah, still be wearin'
my sister's hand-me-downs
Be some hard times for
The Poet Launderette
Just hangin' out.
Infamous one Dec 2013
I want everything that bugs me and annoys me to go away so I can focus on what I need to get done. Be at my best be myself not letting other stupid factors distract my choices.
I help everyone even if I dislike what im doing but doing the right thing is hard the intentions are good even though others make them seem bad
Ashley Kaye Aug 2019
love or lust
“I cannot tell a lie”
As I lie
Laying
being beneath you
forcing my light feminine weight above
the sun to your sky
it’s all the same
i feel false i do not feel

you compliment my waist,
my laugh;
my witty repetitoire
riles you—
a true Napoleon in this pint-sized frame
they call me pretty
I yearn to be more

you are leaving and I am numb
maybe I learn to forget
opal iridescence in my free-spirited eyes
dance once
you are gone

I scream to no one,
“must I be alone
to be my own?”
July 15, 2019
Megan Sherman May 2017
Once more the battles of life by stealth,
Creep upon you with blades, half hid under devil's sheath,
Deceiving soul and self of their immortal worth,
Shrinking my heart the breadth of its girth,
My friend fights, struggles to slay their ghost,
I've wondered how such a soul can be haunted,
And for days I've prayed and chanted,
Because of the fear their spirit is lost.

I have walked, traversed prayer's line for miles,
To save them from a fate that appals the mind and riles,
Searching fathoms of my sadness stricken soul,
To find ways to make again theirs whole,
Imagining their sheer delight,
In future years bereft of chains,
Bereft of sad and melancholy refrains,
I see them free, take flight.

May God grant light and love and peace,
May their mental struggle cease,
For being borne aloft on wings,
That inspire mind to soar and sing,
Considering Love a sufficient goal,
An immortal truth adorned by light,
That maketh for an awesome sight,
At peace with the one and all.

My friend being stricken found life devious,
Instead of coy and mischevious,
While that great Knight, that rose out of Heaven's fires,
Inspires feelings suffice to be sung to lyres,
Yet feels themselves beneath the beams
Of destiny, that touch the Earth,
Warms it the breadth of its girth,
And whose luck's light kisses our dreams.

My friend wails for their wilting fate,
And in my Heart a sorrow gestate,
I want my Heart to waltz with theirs,
Out of it's spiritual bars,
On the shores of Heaven we'd frolic play,
With them I'd be engorged on bliss,
Touched by the light of luck's kiss,
All throughout the day.

In my devotion I have learned this,
That to be not devoted is remiss,
To deny truth of Love is the worst,
Be banished from its kingdom who accursed,
Her splendour, to which we ought to be,
In mesmerised and spellbound awe,
To love, and cherish, and adore,
Her gifts and generosity.
Martin Narrod Aug 2014
Morphine & Cola, Mrs. I can't believe I told you this is, so exacerbating I Can't sleep; even this weather riles inside me as we weep. There wasn't Anything that'd have shown you. There hasn't been a single sprout of Showmanship, or the erstwhile philanthropy that needers' raise their Eyebrows to and to. This is the degree we know it. The subtle afterglow With everything that you've known, and while the snow settles on your Window sill. While winter rime binds its ice to the wheat, and every soft Little seedling sewn, whispers its final sentences before autumn while it Drifts itself to sleep. There were the cards and the faces of Jacks among Aces, places uplifted by China dishes of porcelain overflowing, like Tencel in socks, woven into the pockets of trousers. Where does the Mischief go while it certainly isn't ours, and the dandy light across your Temple bares a gleam.

Some things are enriching, but yet too sordid to stare at. While the game Is enriching, the pain is too much to bear, and whether in vain or *******, the likes of you, make these lips of mine much softer against Your finger tips. Tips of fingers, petals of flowers, baskets of fresh bread Baked with wheat flour- follow the noon bird, fancy a sit by a brook, and Listen for the whistle-less, whistling of a rook.

Grey is quite golden too. Like the same tencel that I've used, or the silken Web treated to a loom, like lightning bugs out for an early dance on the Afternoon. Seldom as moss on sidewalk path or the pangs of laughing Heart at mass. What does the new bird bring? The bride of this coming Spring? For every sugarcube we taste, we save ourselves from second Base. Dr. Narrod with a gentle touch, the inspection you love so much. The gentle morsels smoothed upon the hand. The girl-like woman with Her ewe-like lamb. "For all of you who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ******* bass. For all of those who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ******* bass. I like the way you move."
Quotations, excerpt from Andre 3000 & Big Boi's Outkast album, "The Love Below"
Tuesday Pixie Oct 2014
I have a chance
Not chance
Opportunity

See, I’m learning to assert self
To claim space
And here is the time
The place
Ah, excitement!

Into my own power
The start of something
That’s what the cards read
Let’s start something!!

The reckless within me is chattering now
Infatuated curiosity peeps
What will happen next?!

Maybe I’m a drama queen
It riles something within me
Oh hit my spot!

Temptation divine
The danger of it all !
Freedom ~
Ah, life.
Ah, me.

Here we go
Abundance galore
Qweyku May 2014
I have been deeply
French-kissed
by the Sun.

My skin
unmistakably glistening,
reflecting;
the sensual moistness of her tongue.

Scorched by passion
from the very beginning.
A frenzied possession,
so deep,
now genetically smitten.

A torrid affair
by certain perceptions.
Unshakable,
defiantly unbreakable.
To wit questionable,
sometimes unbearable.

But...

I must confess
her kiss riles me,
and with it,
guilt
forgivingly
hails me.

Too,
the jealously of men
contorted,
merely
by
the sheer beauty
in her embrace.

?

I am at a loss, I despair,
I don't understand it.

Driven mad
simply,
by the affection of her face.


**© Qwey.ku
race theory is a myth made of ***** sneaky pipe bombs
filled with the shrapnel of financial ******
past, present and future.
race is a social invention.
I sunbathe all year round
therefore
I am permanently brown.
Danny O'Sullivan Jun 2013
The dishes are making me angry,
All relaxing after work in bubbles
While I just stand here and linger,
A kitchen ghost of scented soap.
People say my eyes are bright
So I scrub those glasses thoroughly
But it does nothing but show me.
My own hands go red on those
Horrible abrasive sponges
And much too hot water does
Nothing to soothe, just morphs into a
Boiling *** that riles my passing thoughts
Until I'm no longer pondering things.
I'm screaming in jealousy as I stack plates,
And fit bowls together so perfectly,
Maybe a drop falls because I'm cleaning
Dishes for one.
Maybe I'll smash them.
Emily Oct 2013
Thinking of you
Riles me up
I get all hot
And act corrupt

I get ***** thoughts
I can't help it
I'm full of needs
And you're the culprit

My imagination
Takes me far
It's hard believing
How **** you are

I'll never get enough
Of the things you do
Oh how I think of them
The whole day through

I'll be here waiting
When you want to try
C'mon now baby
It'll take us high
© Peyton 2013
Sabila Siddiqui Dec 2018
I want to pick your brain for lunch to discuss the ongoings in this world and your views on controversial topics. I want to talk about the various books you read, the various shows and movies that entertain you. I want to know more about your beliefs, what appeals, riles, fascinates and triggers you. I want to know what makes you glow and dim. to watch you paint with different hues, form various constellation and explore the black hole of unexplored matter. I want to converse about the uncanny topics and the stigmatized ones. To know more about the philosophy, biology and chemistry of your existence and this world. I want to know about the intricacy, profundity and complexity around rather than keep to the surface topics.
Zy Marquiez Oct 2010
Our time shared at dinner was such a delight
That I keep on obsessing on holding you tight
When dinner is over I then put out the candles
And take you upstairs taking off your sandals

As I gaze at your eyes I see a look so hypnotic
That just riles me all up in this moment exotic
We arrive at our room and slowly commence
This story of Love that will be wildly intense

Laying you slowly in bed we both start to kiss
This moment enraptured with passionate bliss
Caressing you lightly I hold all your fingertips
Yet we carry forth while we keep locking lips

You smile deeply from the gems you call eyes
Then I kiss your tummy and hold your thighs
Teasefully slowly then we loosen our cuddle
I kiss you, tease you and then hold you subtle

I bite your lips playful as you slowly undress
All your body now bare as your soul I caress
You tease me slowly and take of my clothes
I nibble on your neck and you curl your toes

Clutching each other now charged with desire
The cores of our souls take us rapidly higher
Now lying on my back you then straddle me
We kiss with much passion now lost endlessly

****** and slowly we then begin making love
Sounds are now heard from below and above
Many whispers, gasps, and even slight moans
Are each done by you in the most cutest tones

Lustfully spicy now true Love’s being made
Purely ****** of moments now being displayed
The wildest of lust, you have now made me sin
Yet forever I am yours from outside to within

From the day that we met I waited for this day
Our night is now done as it’s gone its own way
This night of great pleasure for us now to keep
Exhausted and tired then you drift off to sleep

I hold you now closely and whisper in your ear
It has been only one night but it feels like a year
You slowly wake up smiling and look up at me
And I then whisper in your ear “I love you baby”
Sean C Johnson Feb 2013
Your ghost tucks me in, yet never lets me sleep
Your ghost lies awake simply haunting me
Your ghost riles me awake
with the same familiar violent shake
that leaves me breathless alone only wrapped in sheets we bought together
Your ghost hides your letters
amid my stacks of papers
in hopes I find them later
finding them at precisely the moment when your memory has almost been entirely washed away
your ghost remains
leaving trinkets that force me to relapse
to a past
where your ghost never existed
for when you walked out of our life, you forget to take the ghost that came with it...
Seher Seven Aug 2015
the pull to your core riles my attention
the pull is dedicated, though not to you.
your core is what I'm after.
you represent an immature version
of us, I add in my growth and we
continue to develop.

though you are merely a fraction,
we are spread far. the pieces
rile my attention, create a tunnel
that emblazons my affection for myself.
for us all. in each meeting,
I am looking for you.
my thoughts are captured
in the essence of the trueness of everything,
the fragility, the permanence of nothing.
flowing in this interaction, the balance.

it seems life must be short.
my daughter calls me to live long,
I wake each day to embrace another chance
to sit in myself, in this body,
to witness this vantage point.
I get lonely in here, my tribe spread thin.
I know that the energy of
the spread of a galaxy realigns us constantly.
we create the things that communicate to
hear our own memories.
and I am just thankful,
all other emotions lacking substance.
nick armbrister Jul 2021
Alpha Pistols
It’s a nice warm summer’s evening in 2004
The cool man was on top of the Manchester tower block
He fires down with various guns at his lower targets
There is a builders yard two hundred metres away
The fork lift trucks zip about and disturb his sleep
When they reverse their beeper goes Beep Beep!
This riles the man and makes him madly dance
Round his one bedroom flat on the 22nd floor

He grabs all of his guns in a heavy holdall and rushes up
To the very top of the building where he can pop them
While wearing only his bleached white Y-fronts
He sits down by the edge and gets ready for war
From up here he can hear the fork lifts beeping
He grimaces and shakes his head then opens his bag
And removes a small tape player then presses play
The 12 inch version of So Alive by Love and Rockets

His chrome and ivory Colt 45 follows with three clips
Clicking off the safety he aims at the reversing trucks
Their blinking orange light and street lights illuminate
Y-front man aims and fires at the small trucks
His gun is loud and follows thru the muggy night air
Bullets spark off concrete blocks and one hits home
Going thru the windscreen and shocking the operator
Quickly reloading he fires again till the mags are empty

There are 30 different fork trucks in the yard and area
He killed one driver and wounded another in the leg
They are all instructed to to their job while able and alive
Next he gets a 45 calibre Grease Gun with long barrel
He opens the shoulder support and readies his toy
He stands up and sprays the yard from the hip
His grin sez it all as his sub gun blazes away
Two fork lifts collide and drop their pallets of bricks
Reloading he fires at the upended yellow trucks

Their gas bottles explode and cremate the drivers
His song is on a loop and goes on forever
With raised arms and eye to the sky he dances
Round and round he spins to the goth song
Next he grabs his Al Capone 45 Tommy Gun
It has a round mag full of bullets good to go
Standing and firing from the shoulder he goes
The recoil pushes him away from the roof edge

He leans into it and the muzzle flash is serene
The slugs impact all over the yard and 6 trucks
Snapping chains piercing tyres hitting drivers
Two are killed one hurt three are terrified
They still operate their vehicles as ordered
Second mag time and more damage below
A gas bottle blows in an orange blast of debris
While this occurs beepers still beep and lights flash
It’s a huge yard and there are many targets still

Slowly but surely he eliminates them like a surgeon
His next gun is a BAR Browning Automatic Rifle
This he shoots on single shot bipod lying down
It’s a powerful 7.62mm gun and simply superb
Each shot hits home and kills 4 operators dead
Explodes rear 3 mounted gas bottles and more
But the BAR does full auto too and he we go!
*** ****** full ******* auto 30 shot mag wham

Soon empty rounds down range more hits
The fire has been devastating attrition mounts
There are far less fork lifts now in use there
Burning trucks and dead or dying operators cry
In his head he’s the rock n roll man on a roll
I’ve got more guns to fire and now it’s my cod piece
Browning 7.62mm machine gun with bipod
I quickly pull the parts from my bag to assemble
Then a belt of 250 rounds with 1 in 5 red tracer

Happy it’s ready I click off the safety and fire
I’m sat down and hose fire downwards
I slowly move the gun left to right left to right
Impacts spark and in the night air tracer guided
My 250 bullets lasts fifteen seconds and is it
Nothing intact remains below working wise
I took out 30 fork lift trucks and operators
Many are dead some injured others hiding
Lastly I use my M1 Garand rifle with blank ammo

I fire eight rifle grenades at the builders’ yard
I pop a grenade on the end angle up and fire
The blank shell launches the grenade up and down
It takes seconds to fall and hit and Bang Boom Blam!
I fire 8 at random spots of the huge yard
There are no more reverse beepers sounding
All fork lift truck use ceases forever due to me
Now I can peacefully sleep in my room at night
Do not destroy my slumber!
MAJOR INSOMNIA
CORPORAL SLEEP
Nick Armbrister and other writers
Jacinda Norman Sep 2014
Understanding
There is a fine line, between willing and understanding
the clueless hole left in your soul is grappling for the spark that once lit your heart
while you whistle nonchalance to the sea of faces that crash through your life like a broken wave
Because understanding is not done without willingness
and these problems you see so clearly in front of you honey, they don’t exist
not to them no, they don’t exist.
Those promises whispered in-between sheets late at night remain there, woven in the cotton that you have forgotten with the bite of yesterday’s dawn.
They implore you they do, presenting lies disguised as childish riles
and your bedroom light now is sheltered in shadow and it feels like a gallows, but they can’t see that.
No, they can’t see that.  

The lids of your eyes are left masked in disguise
these problems you feel no longer seem real
but the confusion does.
And that rise in hysteria that makes you grow wearier turns your soldier façade into something so vague
and you can’t explain it because your heart is like rock and the problem now is
You don’t know what.
That confusion is real and those things that you feel they are present they are true they are here.
But there is hope
Darling there is hope.
For you aren’t alone in a world full of scorn there are people that care honey, people are there!
But you can’t see that
no, you can’t see that.
I'm not the best at poetry but there you go
betterdays May 2016
airs and graces
made up faces
hide weary bones
and holey souls

plastic smiles
haven't seen you in awhile
as internal insecurity riles
the faint heart murmurs
in these desolate piles
that have run,
far too many miles


pacemakers racing,
cracking casings,
death dicing,
panic rising,
polite ruses,
for the aged muses
pacing this,
social green mile

daily shuffle, kerfuffle
as dark winds ruffle
the blue rinse perms
and only partially muffle
comments snide
about bottoms wide,
perkless *******
and unholy rests,
of these none too
permanent guests
at this palace of
mortality and malice.

end of hours
visitors gone
wilting flowers
and dinner gong
release the  nurses
put away the purses
slump and sway
end of another day
keeping the old foe
death at bay

granny nightie,
thoughts now flighty
with pins in hair and vacant stare
fervently wishing to be anywhere
wishing for some one to be there
but knowing, life's just not fair
when you've grown this old
knowing that each day is a dare
each day a gem sometimes rare
but more often gravel  
yet, better living than stone cold.
tho stone cold.....but without a care


here I stand,  I sit, I lie,
thinking dark thoughts
on the protracted art of dying.
This poem is written from direct thoughts and nuances taken from speak  to a group of elderly people, that my theatre class and I visited as part of a research project for a piece of reminisces drama we are working on.....
Kelly Roland Apr 2013
minds on a trip
loose fingers rip
passion from the heart
never was to start
need a patient hand to light
the fire
you ignite
you burn
oh you burn
but the smoke is seen for miles
journey inside soon riles
we all follow the smoke
white puffs of promise and hope
that we, too can ignite
and in turn we might
lose ourselves in the fog
and go up with the mountains
Jammit Janet Jul 2021
My laugh projects
And riles
The part in your soul
That feels free and wild

The one that is oblivious
To the chains of social construction
The wickedness of humanity
That taints mental function.
Patrick Kennon Oct 2018
Waste the way that it tastes as it rolls off the filter
tip
Light off the night as it riles up our lower lives like pure
reptile brains
Do moths fly towards lightning bugs like
candles?
Does a drug overdose vision of God
turn the addict into a messiah
Or is it just another try at seeing the light
for the first time right overcoming might
Like a sight for sore eyes sick to my stomach
every **** morning
Two Coors Lights and the rain is pouring
it's **** cold in this Texas town
tread Nov 2012
The oven whispers heat
The meal riles in smiley pain
This food is ******.
Ali Mayo Aug 2014
I love the simple things in life....
The heart rending bird-call just before dawn,
Crunching footsteps across frost-bitten grass,
Scudding clouds across an engorged full moon,
The reverberation of waves as they hit the cliffs below,
The unsteadiness of new-born legs,
The sensation of snow on rose-heated cheeks,
The diaphragm throbbing bass of an orchestra,
The taste of salt when a storm riles the sea,
The feel of grass between my toes,
Sensual music oozing through my veins,
Getting caught in a shower of cherry blossom on a windy day,
Being dazzled by colour and artistic renditions,
Receiving a present that someone has made themselves,
Happy endings,
A seductive kiss in the rain,
Films that grab you by the short and curlies,
Books that invade and probe your imagination,
The feel of a butterfly landing on my skin,
A yearning to reach beyond our universe and visit the tantalising stars that I see on a clear night,
The unrestrained laughter of a child,
The mischievous glint in someone's eye,
A replete sigh, indicating good food, good wine and fantastic company,
A friend contacting me out of the blue,
Bare skin upon bare skin,
Cobwebs glistening with early morning dew,
Wood-smoke as it wafts up my nose,
Fulfilling the expectation in someone's eyes,
Snuggling against a beating heart,
The sensation of a cold mountain stream on a sweltering day,
People that make me think and laugh,
The rub of an unshaved cheek,
The quickening of my pulse at the thought of finding my soul-mate,
Rain clattering on a corrugated iron roof,
An unexpected hug or kiss,
The feel of polished marble or wood beneath my finger tips,
The unbridled intensity of a storm,
The first rays of a sun-rise and the diffused glow of a sunset,
Rustling through a carpet of leaves,
Someone snoring in my ear to send me to sleep,
Feeling the sun on my face after a cold snap,
The tactile feel of warm fur beneath my hands,
Waking up in someone's arms,
Singing along to my favourite songs without being self-conscious,
Making slow, sensual, all-encompassing love!
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
The colors of your memory, you can no longer contrast as they swirl into one another.At times they are vibrant as though you are vividly living them experiencing them,and at times they are dull as though they have faded and been acid washed.

Your past slips into the present and present slips into the past. Some days you love me;as though it was the first time you are holding me in the palms of promises. But there are days when my name never slips your tongue and I am a mere stranger to you.

The memories are no longer stored in your mind, but on gigabytes that I have to play – that has become your storage and retrieval. Your memory has become pixelated, but you can no longer remember them as though it was your own.

Some days you’re on a carousel of memories in your mind; revering and your tongue has forgotten its language. At times you speak eloquently, but at times they are stars that are unlinked and lost. You used to weave constellations but now it’s difficult to put in a thread into the needle.

Thread of your memories begins to wear and the tales woven through ancestry fray with details as the world slips away and the thread unwinds. You try revising the tales, but the thinning at ends of your recollection slowly fades.

The scent infused with ambiance sends echoes of familiar places, resulting in you having spasms of remembrance while the flutters of moth wings beat at the edge of your mind.

There are days when you become a shell of yourself, as your pupils remain fragments detached from reality. I watch you as you wind yourself back in front of my eyes. Ebbing and flowing, freezing and releasing; trying to make sense of the confusion and panic that riles in your mind.

Though you feel, your stars are growing cold and feel like an ethereal that has collapsed, your smile is still the brightest star in the furthest galaxy. It is made of combustion of crimson blue yonder and candy hues.

Though your palms are dreams wrinkled dry, and your memories are falling like baby tooth, as the color of your speech is bleached and you frantically scavenge for memories to ground and make sense - I’ll be there to hold your scattered mind with patience and love you the days you won’t remember me as your own
Liis Belle Sep 2017
I love people
Who I can be silent with.
Who lets the air be filled with unspoken syllables.
Who lets silence be silence,
Doesn’t push it away, unwanted and ugly.
Who makes it beautiful,
Not just empty and bland.
Who makes it thoughtful -  
Lets me see the marathon in their eyes.  
Who doesn’t puncture the air with filler words,
But rather morphs them into something
That when spoken,
Riles up my emotions. Makes me think. Makes me laugh.
Who lets the buzzing in the air,
The sound of breaths escaping us,
And the heartbeats in our chests
Sing in our broken ears.
Who doesn’t tone them down,
But emphasizes them.
Who looks around, then back at me,
And when the tranquility is finally fractured,
It is replaced by something  
Meaningful.
Big Virge Aug 2019
"Work Politricks" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 26/7/2005

My Works ... Poli - TRICKING ... !!!!!  

They're Tactics Are SICKENING ... !!!  

They're Using Their ... " Power " ...  
To Make People ... "cower" ... !!!  
  
It's ALL ABOUT This ...  
The Usual ... " OLD Tricks " ...  
  
They're PROMOTING WANKERS .... !!!!!  
And YES The Odd ***** ... !!!  
  
The Way That They Do It ..........  
Is Making Me ... SICK ... !!!!  
  
They TRY To Be Smooth ...  
When Making Their Moves ...  
  
They TRY To Make THINKERS ...  
Start Wearing ... "Horse Blinkers" ... !?!  
  
So That They .................................................................­................ "don't see" ..............  
Through Their Work FALLACIES ... !!!  
  
Come ON People PLEASE ... !!!!  
  
Somebody ... AGREE ... !?!  
cos' These Days I'm Thinking ...  
It Can't Just Be ... ME ... ?!?  
  
Maybe It IS ... !?!  
  
Am I ........................... "PARANOID" ............................ ?!!!?  
  
Or Is It That ... " I'm " ...  
Surrounded By BOYS ... ???  
  
BOYS Who ......................................... Avoid ..............  
COMBATTING Their ... " Ploys " ...  
  
And GIRLS Who REALLY ...  
THINK They're SMART ... ?!?  
  
WHY ... ?  
Because They LIKE To LICK *** ... !!!  

From Colleagues To BOSSES ...  
Their Plans Are A FARCE ... !!!  
  
THIS Is THE PROBLEM ...  
Their Card Has Been MARKED ...  
  
They're MOVING ON UP ...  
By Acting Like ... " TARTS " ...  
  
This Is Why I ...  
Now NEED TO ..................................................... Depart .................. !!!!!  
  
Cos' Working With ******* ...  
And STUPID UPSTARTS ...  
Is Making Me FEEL ...  
Like It's Time To IMPART ...  
  
Some PROOF of My Power ...  
And ... TEAR UP Some *** ... !!!!!  
  
By Showing These People ...  
What Lies DEEP WITHIN ...............  
  
A Person Whose Cool ...  
Is BURSTING To SIN ... !!!  
  
They NEED To Be CAREFUL ... !!!  
... Or Be A VICTIM ... !!!!!  
  
Cos' ... WHATEVER Happens ...  
When ANGER Begins ...  
  
The Devil WON'T Stop Me ...  
From ... FLIPPING The Script ... !!!!  
  
I Did It Before ...  
But They NEVER Saw ...  
How Many of Them ...  
I'd Knock To THE FLOOR ... !!!!!!!!!!!  
  
This REALLY Is Stuff ...  
I DON'T Want To ... " Perform " ... !!!!!  
  
But What Can I Do ... ?  
  
When This IS Now The ... " Norm " ... ?!?  
  
Most Days When At Work ...  
I'm Calming MY STORM ......................  
  
Just For THESE PEOPLE ...  
Who ... Like To PLAY GAMES ... ?!?  
  
My Boss Took A YEAR ...  
To Get Used To My NAME ... !!?!!  
  
He's From The Old School ...  
of ... REDNECK Type FOOL ... !!!  
  
Who's Now USING Tactics ...  
That He SHOULD'T Use ... !!!!!  
  
Like USING My Colleague ...  
Cos' She's A ... Young FOOL ... !!!  
  
Who CLEARLY Is STUPID ...  
And NEEDS Some More School ... !!!  
  
SCHOOLING ... On Life ...  
And Doing Things RIGHT ...  
  
Like ... SHUTTING Her Mouth ...  
When Management Types ...  
Are TRYING IT On ...  
And SINGING ... " Old Songs " ...  
  
When They KNOW What They're Doing ...  
Is ... TOTALLY Wrong ... !!!!!  
  
Like DENYING ... " rises " ...  
Because of ... SURPRISES ... !!!  
  
Like People NOT BUYING ...  
Because of ... HIGH PRICES ...  
  
Or Bonus DENIAL ...  
  
SEE These Are The Styles ...  
That Should Make A Manager ...  
Have To ... Stand TRIAL ... !!!!!  
  
Their Actions Are VILE ... !!!  
They FILL With NO TILES ... !?!  
  
They Then Have THE CHEEK ...  
To Sit There and SMILE ... ?!?  
  
They DON'T LIKE ... " My Type " ...  
Cos' What I Say ... RILES ...  
WITHOUT Giving Credence ...  
To BLEMISH My File ... ?!!!?  
  
They DON'T LIKE My Demeanour ...  
Cos' I  Am ............ Laid Back ...................................  
  
But This Is Because ...  
My Work DOESN'T Lack ...  
  
A COMPLETE Inspection ... !!!  
For FAULTS And Defections ...  
I'm ALWAYS Prepared ... !!!!!!  
I Use GOOD PROTECTION ... !!!!!!  
  
Cos' Colleagues These Days ...  
Are FULL OF Deceptions ....  
And MANY Are SPREADING ...  
Some ... HORRID INFECTIONS ... !!!!!!!  
  
It Seems That ... " Their PLAN " ...  
Is To Understand WHY ... ?!?  
  
My Work Is Done SWIFTLY ...  
And I .... " COOL The Fan " .... !!!!!!  
  
The Answer Is Simple ...  
YES ... I AM THE MAN ... !!!!!!!!!  
  
Who DOESN'T Get ... "Caught ......................................................  
In Their Conversations .........  
  
They Are FULL OF ***** ..... !!!  
And ***** ... LOVE A ***** ... !!!!!  
  
These People FOR REAL ...  
Are CLEARLY Quite SICK ... !!!  
Cos People Like THESE ...  
  
Create ...  
  
.... " Work PoliTRICKS " ....
Angry I was.

However, work was a ***** at this time in my life !

In the end though, I managed to do as the poem suggested, and got the Funk OUT ..... !!!
Julie Grenness Feb 2017
Here, in Oz, the rats want to sink the ship,
The embrace of Putin is becoming hip,
It riles the heartland of the Oz,
Not the peaceful land it was,
Why a nation divided, not the best,
We're all one Oz, the rich and the rest.......
Feedback welcome.
Cindy Munoz Aug 2013
A buzzing noise all around,
making it weary for me to get rest.
This constant pestering sound,
riles me up.
Visually spotting the black fly,
I try to ignore it.
The more I push it away,
the more noise it makes.
Not being clear enough,
I must **** it.
Unable to be aware of its demise,
the fly continues to circle.
Throughout the room,
I chase it away.
But it always comes back,
for even more.
I name this fly Richard,
because it seems to be relentless.
Just like him.
Bob B Mar 2018
Tell me how a man--a real estate mogul,
Who brags about women he can ****** or ogle;
Who NOT through hard work but by using his fame
Rakes in the bucks from brandishing his name;
Who supplements his fortune by appearing on TV
And adds to his resumé: celebrity;
Who stiffs his employees, as many have noted;
Who riles up his base against the scapegoated;
Who breaks all the rules and who shoots from the hip,
And earned himself a zero in statesmanship;
Who criticizes others for breeches in security
But whose own practices are clothed in obscurity;
Who hides from the world his shadowy case history
And wants to keep his tax returns a total mystery--
How can this man--this New York resident--
Become a country's 45th president?

There’s trouble in America. That’s what they say.
There’s trouble in America. That’s life today.
There’s trouble in America. Something is broken.
There’s trouble in America. Let the truth be spoken.

Tell me how a man can pull in donations
Despite--give or take--nineteen accusations
Of ****** harassment--of ****** impropriety--
That normally would bring you shameful notoriety.
Women, immigrants, and others whom he blasted:
Why weren't more of them completely flabbergasted?
How could he lead a Party to victory
When his behavior is so contradictory?
White House jobs go to son-in-law and daughter;
He talks of friend Putin as though he walks on water.
How can a person con his way to the top
And "waist" so much money--excuse the malaprop--
Spending so much time at his posh golf resorts?
(Maybe he's making up for time he'll spend in courts.)
How many voters regret what they have done
Now that the blowhard is leader number one?

There’s trouble in America. That’s what they say.
There’s trouble in America. That’s life today.
There’s trouble in America. Something is broken.
There’s trouble in America. Let the truth be spoken.

Tell me how a leader can garner support
When it comes to honesty and he comes up short.
When you're pathological, how do you earn
Respect from ALL of the people that you burn?
If your administration has a racist flavor,
You cannot be doing justice a favor.
Running a country requires a lot more
Than being rich and famous and thriving on lore.
About his private life, most don't give a hoot,
But now he's in bed with NRA to boot!
As the Russia probe keeps digging deeper,
The mountain of evidence keeps getting steeper.
"Un-presidented" is what the man would write;
"Unprecedented" would be more erudite.
Scandal after scandal in the USA!
Madness is only one tweet away!

There’s trouble in America. That’s what they say.
There’s trouble in America. That’s life today.
There’s trouble in America. Something is broken.
There’s trouble in America. Let the truth be spoken.

Trouble in America…

-by Bob B (3-12-18)
Four main beats per line. Once you get the rhythm going, you can rap your way through the poem.
Big Virge Dec 2019
Sometimes I Write Right Through The Night ... !!!    
Until SUNLIGHT ... Retires My Mind ...  
    
I Guess The Darkness Suits My Rhymes ... ?    
And The Times I Like To Write ...      
    
I Guess That's Why My Wordplay RILES ... !!!    
Because Most FEAR The ... "Cover of NIGHT" ... !!!    
    
But Without The Dark Intertwined With The Light  ...    
We'd Have A Pretty ... BORING LIFE ...    
    
Thus When I Write My Pen IGNITES ... !!!!!    
And Sometimes Gives People A FRIGHT ... !!!!!!!    
    
My Writing Style's A DIFFERENT Type ... !!!    
And Has SO MANY Word Designs ... !!!    
    
You Could Say PLENTY ... ALWAYS RIPE ...    
Awaiting The Return of ... THOSE Jedi ... !!!!!    
    
My Views Are Shrewd Like ... " Mace Windu " ... !!!    
    
And Write With The FORCE So My Saber ENSURES ... !!!  
That The Emperor's Coup Is Thrown ...... OFF Course ..... !!!!!    
    
When I Write It's CLEAR That ... " I " ...    
REFUSE To Abide To The ... DARK SIDE ... !!!!!  
    
Because I Am A ... GOOD JEDI  ... !!!!!    
    
But Jokes Aside My Pen And I ...    
ENJOY The Ride When We Choose To Write ...    
    
ESPECIALLY In ... " The Shroud of Night " ... !!!
    
When I Write Sometimes I Find A Place of ... " Calm " ...    
NO Guns In Palms or Nuclear Arms ... !!!    
    
NO EVIL Thoughts Or False Awards ...    
Or Need To Hear ... Applause Or Cheers ...    
    
NO Visions of Those Who Choose To Ignore ...    
My Use of Prose When My Wordplay SOARS ... !!!!!    
    
WAY ABOVE Their ... " Inane Stuff " ...    
When I Write I Feel GOD Touched ... !!!!!    
    
And See The LIGHT Within My Rhymes ...    
And Nowadays ... CAN'T GET ENOUGH ... !!!!!    
    
ENOUGH of YES This Form of Love ...    
    
Sometimes When I Write ...    
I FEEL My Mum ...........................................................  
  
As If Her Death Has Bred NEW LIFE ...    
Inside My Heart And In My Mind ...    
I Guess That's Why I Love To Write ... !!!!    
    
When I Write ... Our Love Still SHINES ... !!!!!  
    
That's Why The Night Suits Me Just Fine ...    
To Be The Time I Search My Mind ...    
For Written Designs of Simple Prose And Heartfelt Rhymes ... !!!    
    
Rhymes of MANY DIFFERENT Kinds ...    
    
As I Said Before PLENTY ... More and MORE ... !!!    
I Write SO MUCH My Hands Get SORE ... !!!!!    
    
I Write Poetry When People ............ sleep ...........    
And When Most Watch ... TV Repeats ... !!!    
    
I'd Rather Write Than Feed My Eyes ...    
To TV Shows ... That Are A JOKE ... !!!!!    
    
But That's Just ME ...    
My Words Now Paint Pictures I See ...    
    
Pictures of PEACE And UNITY ...    
And Places Where I'd Rather Be ... !!!!!!!!!!    
    
My Words FEED ME ..... " TRANQUILITY " .....    
    
And Help REMOVE My ... " Darker Moods " ...    
    
This Helps Me BREATHE More EASILY .................    
And Helps Me Write This Poetry ...    
    
See When I Write It Sets Me FREE .................................................    
To See Beauty And Find Energies ...    
That Quell The Anger ... DEEP In Me ... !!!    
    
At Times Like This When Writing Scripts ...    
My Use of Words Through Simple Verse ...    
CLEARLY SOOTHES And CALMS My Nerves ...    
As If I'm With ... THAT SPECIAL Girl ... !!!!!    
Who'll LOVE ME In This CRAZY World ... !!!!!    
    
That's What It's Like When I Sit And Write ...    
In The Day ... Or ... Late At Night ...    
    
It's Like The Page ...  
Becomes A Place Where I Feel SAFE ...    
    
A Place WITHOUT ... " Hate " ... !!!    
A Place WITHOUT ... " Rage " ... !!!    
    
A Place Where I Have PEACE of MIND ...    
NO POINTLESS Fights Or WICKED Crimes ... !!!    
    
That's What It's Like When I Sit And Write ...    
No Need To Recite At Open Mic Nights ... !!!    
Or Need To IMPRESS Like SO MANY POETS ...    
At ..... " PRETENTIOUS EVENTS " ..... !!!!!!    
    
NO Disrespect Meant But It's Got To Be Said ... !!!!    
  
GREAT Poets REJECT This NEED For ... " Pretence " ...    
And DON'T Indulge In .... " ARROGANCE " .... !!!    
    
This Simple Piece of Poetic Prose Just Goes To Show ...    
How Much I LOVE To Write This Stuff ... !!!!!!!!!!    
    
I Don't Write Prose To Be WELL KNOWN ... !!!    
    
I Write It Now To CALM Me Down ...    
And For The LOVE ... " How does that sound ? " ...    
    
Well That Sounds Pretty Good To Me ... !!!    
    
I'd Rather Have THAT Than Write For GREED ... !!!    
My Poetry Now ... Means MORE To Me ...    
Than ANY AMOUNT of Cash Money ... !!!!!    
    
It Seems Sometimes Most Now Live Life ...    
For Money Drugs And ... POINTLESS Fights ... ?!?    
I'm Not Sure If That's ... Wrong Or Right ... ?!?    
    
But Poetry NOW ... UPLIFTS My Life ... !!!    
Whether In SUNLIGHT or In ... " The Shroud of Night " ...    
    
It Feels Just Right Now ...  
  
... " When I Write " ... !!!
As the poem states, it's a feeling beyond words, but here's a few to show you how it affects me ......
John Niederbuhl Jun 2017
Well lock me in a closet and call me "Captain Jack",
I won't be myself until I get my coffee back

They say it riles up the nerves and makes a person tense
Feeling like you're being pressed while balanced on the fence

But without it life seems dull, everything moves slow,
Things I used to strive for, they interest me no more

I'm mired in inertia, lacking impetus,
Reaching out for nothing, I'm settled like the dust

I'd better brew me up a *** and make it nice and strong
I really need a cuppa joe to help me get along

To send those blahs a-packing and get back once again
To that busy, bustling world, where coffee is my friend...
I tried to give up coffee once
My heart is not in my control it has been taken over
By your sparkling cheeks and dancing silly smiles
I never thought you are so silly as well as so clever
Knowing fully full I became victim of just your riles

Let me taste the salt of love from your sweet chin
Let me be the keen observer of all your silly curves
My love passions want to commit an innocent sin
I want to extend all that which my love you deserve

I think you are true image of love to take to celebrate
To cover all long distances side by side ,pace to pace
You inner charisma make me to call and to accelerate
My beloved my sweetheart you are my asset my grace

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
Yenson May 2019
Them afflicted psychologists from La Mancha
in white stolen designer overalls from Prada
struck by sick voyeurism and in obsessive gala
spend morning, noon and night in frenzied plasma
leaving their rotted brains only able to produce miasma

These afflicted shamologists from La Mancha
deluded terrorists of psychological warfare schema
they plant seeds and sow doubts in continuous mantra
totally consumed by a man that riles their minds with rancor
and mocks their juvenile ignorance showing their pathetic strata

— The End —