"rumours" poems
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.
Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.
A few were wrapped in tints of ginger.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.
Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.
The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in red.
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...
It is beginning...
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
Ironic it was for such Hero's Song
To be played on a Mattress we call the Sea
Just when your Daughter cried for your Belong
We need to Sing again; Then Pray haply
For the many Noble Deeds you left behind
Despite this Age of the Pork Barrel's Tune
Such Rumours unfound; And Profile a Lie
Which most in our Office hoarded our Boon
Live well Beyond, Great Sir! I take to Vow
Your Aubourn Treatment to our Country's Hope
Guide your Duty's Heirs; And Family enow
And bring this Rosary blessed by your Pope.
The Song is Sung, even on Deaf Concerns
I guess it's quite Young for People to Learn.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
There's a candle burning nightly
In the window, on the right
The house has long been empty
But, the candle's there each night
The house in old and ancient
I'm sure it has tales it needs to tell
Like, why the candle's burning
And why the house won't sell
The candle shows up daily
As soon as dusk begins to fall
The drapes are drawn so closely
In each room along the hall
But, in that lonely window
Burns a candle all can see
It's been burning there each evening
Since nineteen forty three
They say the house is haunted
After all, the candle is a clue
Someone lights it nightly
The question asked is who?
The house has been abandoned
No one lives there any more
They say the last survivor
Left in nineteen forty four
The story is as follows
If I get my rumours straight
The house was built around
The year eighteen eighty eight
The family that did own it
When the candle came to light
Were wealthy, and reclusive
And they all kept out of sight
The story goes, their oldest son
Signed up and went to war
He was a pilot in the air force
He shot down 15 planes or more
He was shot down on a mission
But his plane was never found
They never found the wreckage
Where it crashed into the ground
The candle started burning
The day the message came
It's always burning in the window
It's always lit, it's all the same
The candle shows when it is dusk
It goes out just past three
No one knows who lights it
There's no one there to see
Is the candle lit by spirits
Waiting for a missing son
Is it lit to help pass over
To make his journey done
No one knows the exact story
If the plane crashed and he died
But, even in the daylight
People don't pass by on this side
The house is an enigma
Is a ghost there waiting for
A son to come home to them
Marching through the old front door
All I know is that the candle
Has been lit for 60 years
And there's a ghost up there just waiting
Crying quiet , ghostly tears
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
In the murky depths of muck and mire
hope flickers in hearts
courageous enough to believe;
sending out ripples in the waters
like a domino effect rewound.
Insignificant seedlings to the cruel eye
filled with light and promise
as yet unseen turned
Fragile sprouts in healing green
reaching up and out
to rest hopes on the water front,
as if to console one another -
we are not alone.
Against all odds, bean of India,
Keep going –
Power through the sluggish resistance
Of this darkened plane.
Though life seems lost in loneliness
Listen closely,
Hear the Whispering rumours of life beyond the deep
Of basking in light and life
beneath the welcoming heat
of a dancing sun.
A triumphant act of faith indeed,
to content oneself with growing,
never really knowing
what lies beyond the darkness.
I weep for you
with joy, O little pocket of hope
as you propel yourself forward -
such strength, such courage
for one who as yet knows not
of that rosey happiness,
that snow white purity
that lies beneath your shell.
I stand in awe of you;
You with your absurd elegant beauty
tracing your journey
accepting it as part of yourself
embracing who you once were.
The original rags to riches tale;
Roots in putrid, ravenous foundations
yet you yourself remain unstained.
The journey every bit as beautiful
as your glorious destination –
a testimony to your essential self.
I see you take up your stance
Front and centre, finally ready
to declare yourself to the world.
Budding beauty of new life
awake! open your eyes, your heart,
you dont have to hide anymore
the world is missing who you are.
And time births healing and growth.
Every flower blooms at her own pace;
Tentatively unfolding - delicate and fragile still
with gentle colours begging will I do?
Caught up in a lighter life
becoming bolder, blessed, nurtured
blooming bright, opened out
hello world, here I am.
Your wary days drowned, you claim your space,
Fill your space,
Make it your own.
The ethereal splendour of your gentle petals
Succeeded only by the loveliness within,
As you build up your legacy of hope
So wonder will not be lost in the falling petals
but made more beautiful still
in the healing gifts,
in nourishing others,
in the gifts you give of yourself
back to the world.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
You’re a poisoned rose in a wedding band,
A glad eye with a stabbing hand,
A tumour ,vicious rumour surrounds you,
BP Exxon -death abounds you,
I first found you amusing and witty,
cutting remarks a stick with both ends ******
Gutter scumbag with a glaze of charm,
Only interested in doing harm,
A sociopath with a crocodile smile,
always had the last laugh,- real fight? Run a mile,
Backstabber Judas priest,but **** was I deceived,
Each Lie you sold I truly believed.
I stood by you ,defended you til the bitter end,
Bitter irony I know,with you as a friend,
Who the **** needs enemies, its all a front,
An affront to my instincts,get out of my life you ****
chorus
"My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good,
Every time you smile a child dies you’re up to no good,
Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me,
You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy."
Now I hear you’re spreading rumours behind my back,
Bad move,wrong play better stand back,
Your malicious manouevery no longer stands,
I’m two steps ahead your end is planned.
You better watch your back,you’ve got no back up and no spine,
Juggling hedgehog maze lies through a field of land mines,
I’ve got my eye on you ex pal,don’t worry your time’s come,
we’ll see who can outrun the .45 from a gun,
That you’ve been begging for for years no tears at your end,
You’re a poxy oxymoron my toxic friend.
So come out to play my way and see who draws first,
I guarantee you a surprise not my blood burst,
Flying in the air like a hose god only knows,
You’re a fly in my eye a burr under my skin so out she goes,
The left that hits your jaw will saw your head from your neck
You talk a good fight,good night,I’ll leave ya wrecked.
chorus
"My toxic friend this is the end get out of my life for good,
Every time you smile an angel loses wings you’re no good,
Don’t call me-text me unfriend me before you end me,
You’re the epitome of the new word-Frenemy."
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
Allah was his ears
As sounds unlawful, unethical it never heard.
Secrets, gossips and rumours were also barred.
It buzzed with words of Quran day and night
Always Open to sounds just and upright.
Allah was his eyes
As it looked parents, orphans and needy with love
Brimmed with tears thinking of Almighty above
It never despised his brother and from lust it was freed.
Gold and silver had no worth and had no signs of greed.
Allah was his hands
As it stopped things reprehensible with force
In Allah's cause spent abundantly his resource
It caressed the head of an orphan in affection.
Time and again meekly raised it in supplication.
Allah was his feet
As it never moved towards things which Allah hate
Avoided walking arrogantly with a strutting gait
It always ran to help downtrodden, oppressed.
For knowledge for light it was on constant quest.
He had mountains of obligatory good deeds
He had mountains of non-obligatory good deeds
His protector was Allah The Almighty
His enemy was enemy of Allah The Almighty
He was beloved of Allah
He was friend of Allah
He was Wali of Allah
He was Waliullah.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
I didn't write this one. Its actually part of spoken poetry lyrics .. im sharing it because I feel like start to finish I can relate to every word, every feeling. I consider myself the girl behind the mask
The girl behind the mask doesnt understand the beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, and it doesnt matter how many times I have told her she still relies on the opinions of people of who dont realize that what they see as shy is in fact the feeling of lonley,
The feeling of whatever she does Is not quite good enough, the feeling of constantly disappointing the people closest who only want to see her happy,
But instead they have to watch the detoeratation and can do nothing. They hope and pray that one day the girl behind the mask will finally say with content and honesty to herself "IM HAPPY "
I can put these feelings of no self worth on the shelf and live on, build up my life and repair myself from the past,
And can finally say to myself that at last " IVE DONE IT"
I've beat the demons inside my soul, the demons that made my thoughts and life cold,
The ones that made me contemplate my life, my confidence, my existence and my future, made me feel hurt that cant be fixed with a suture,
The girl behind the mask doesnt see that her strength shines so much brighter, you see the girl behind the mask doesnt know what she is capable of, it's as if how blind to how happy she makes everyone, she puts a smile on a face of the person feeling down, shes blind to the fact that she can turn a sad day around, and make people smile from ear to ear,
But when she takes off the mask she's filled with nothing but fear, fear of what the next day brings her, as if she's waiting for her sentence and there's nothing but rumours being spread around about her.
The girl behind the masks is the definition of beauty , the meaning of strength, she needs to know thats its the duty, of everyone who cares to help in the fight, to make her realize that her life is her life, to understand that there is nothing to be afraid of, she has family and friends that will show depression what they are made of,
The girl behind the mask needs to lift her head up and open her eyes and realize that she'll never be alone and as much as she may feel it, the pain she is feeling now.... happiness will heal it
So be strong and proud of the person you are because with strength and power the end of these feeling isn't far, and you can smile,dance, and sing live thr life that u were deprived from, the life you have not yet felt.. the life u lived contemplating overdose or the rope. The feeling of eating was hell, the life u lived where everything goes wrong you will be free from all the anxiety and pain
Look at yourself in the mirror and say these words to your self, "why am I letting this control me, look at your beauty. As hard as it seems you need to smile. Its your duty, then see your pain as a emotional journey,
Remember certainly there is a destination waiting for u to be happy at last.. but please be strong stay strong the girl behind the mask
Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 10:22 AM UTC
A delicious little bakery
is only down our street
the smell of baking bread
well.. it really is a treat
It is run by Mrs ******
she is just so very charming
but she is a little clumsy
it's really quite alarming
You see,
she does her best to make the cakes
and bake such tasty bread
but the currants just go everywhere
and in the pies instead
And in the Cornish pasties
there is very often nuts
and in the fruit pie filling
bacon and beef cuts
But she seems to be quite fancy
well there has been many rumours
of her and the deliveryman
well... she flashes him her bloomers
But she really is so charming
poor soul.. she has the worst mishaps
like when she inadvertently
displayed her finest baps
And no one will forget
when in came a group of nuns
all asking some tea cakes
but out popped her Chelsea buns
But she really is a riot
you can't help but love her so
she give you all you ask for
in a bargain box 'to go'
And she takes care of her customers
and gives out treats to sample
you'll never go home hungry
you'll end up with quite a armful
So if you get a moment
take a stroll just down our street
to Mrs Dingle's bakery
she really is a treat.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world
Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile,
Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here,
An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted
Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear,
Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth,
A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense,
It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly,
But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no?
In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality,
After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a;
Short living eternity,
~ Umi
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Its the perfect costume for a superhero goddess, and it makes her feel invincible; fishnet stockings, blazing red bra, heroine hotpants and the clincher; kitten heels.
Bunny can take on the world, now, appropriately dressed. She's got superpowers, alright, the doom-dogs seem to think so, and they're running scared.
Those rumours, that they trade and use and barter, of baby bunny's beautiful mouth, sloe doe eyes, and inexhaustible tongue. It's been said that she can bring an evil tyrant to his knees as she sinks down to her own, it's been said, she's good and bad, so very bad, so very, very good...
But, listen!
*** bunny's been given a new mission; There's a new and timely terror, and the doom-dogs are, of course, the evil source; find and ******* *** bunny, the formidable phallus of doom.
Only you, ***** tawny Queen of Dawn are up to the task. Don your whiskered mask, wriggle your nose once, twice, yummy bunny, and fly, fly! Find the phallus, save the world.
It's your destiny.
You were born to blow the horn for cosmic ****
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
It's Sister Lucy not Sister Bridget
who's the crush on the young priest
Father Joseph Magdalene said,
Mary said is she the one? as she sat
on Mags bed listening to music
on her record player I thought
you said the Bridget,
Magdalene sitting beside Mary
passed a glass of lemonade to her
and said nothing certain
you understand just the rumours
I've heard but don't tell
the parents or my arse'll
be slapped for spreading the rumour,
have you a ciggie?
Mary said
putting the lemonade and glass
on the bedside cabinet,
Magdalene poked under the mattress
and took out a squashed pack
of 10 Woodbines and said
open the fecking window
or Ma'll know we've been smoking
and she'll have a moan
and passed the packet to Mary
who took a cigarette
and put it in her mouth
and went and opened the window,
Magdalene took a cigarette
and stuffed the packed
under the mattress again,
Mary sat down and said
have you a light then
or are we to fecking **** on air?
Magdalene took out
of the pocket of her dress
a box of matches
(liberated from the kitchen)
and struck a light for them both
and put the matchbox away again,
they inhaled and sat in silence,
the record played( Billy fury)
and they tapped their feet softly
and nodded their heads,
so what are you doing
about Brian Brady?
Magdalene asked,
what'd you mean doing about
I'm doing nowt with the ******
it's him who thinks I'm going
to be doing things the soft loon
Mary said,
you seemed to be encouraging him
the other day Magdalene said,
ah was fun only I'd not let him
near me in a serious way
no more than the holy Joe himself
Mary said,
smoke filtered ceiling ward,
a car backfired from the street below,
Magdalene leaned in close to Mary
I'm your best friend
and I get jealous of the likes of him
being too near to you,
O he's nothing to be worrying yourself
about him Mags he's just a loon
as boys are Mary said,
Magdalene held the cigarette
a way from her lips
and kissed Mary's cheek,
Mary sighed and said
he's nothing I just give him
the tease he'll get nothing
from my ****** money box,
they both inhaled and exhaled again
and watched the smoke
rise ceiling ward,
the sound of Magdalene's ma
downstairs singing along to the radio,
Magdalene's hand went on Mary's thigh,
a bright sun in a blue Irish sky.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
To the man on the street that called my ex girlfriend and I ****** I forgive you. We were nineteen and in love, I’m sorry that you were raised in a way that made you look at two girls holding hands and laughing as something that wasn’t to be shown in public. I’m sorry that my happiness made you feel insecure in that moment. My happiness was not on display to offend you. My love life was never an act of rebellion against you. I will forgive you for how you were raised but I will not apologize for showing love in a way you don’t deem appropriate for wandering eyes.
To the people I went to high school with, I’m sorry I never heard the rumours you spread about me until you were already out of my life. I’m sure you meant to break my heart when you called me **** in the hallways but your words never made their way back to me. Your aggression towards who I chose to love never stopped me from falling in love with girls I never imagined could be real. I refuse to hide away my love. I will not let your words shame me back into the closet I was scared to admit I was stuck in.
To the people who used to send me anonymous messages telling me to **** myself I hope you’re in a better place now. I often think about how my big secret made you so upset that you couldn’t stand to live in the same world as me. I’m not sorry that I’m still here now. I still feel sorry that you were so sad with yourself that you needed to make me feel as hopeless as you were.
To the people who voted no towards same *** marriage but watch girl on girl **** I’m sorry my love is only okay when it’s for your pleasure. I’m sorry that you have such a skewed view on life that you see women as objects and not as people. I would forgive you but I don’t think you’d fess to your wrongdoing to be forgiven. There is nothing to forgive if someone won’t admit that they are wrong.
I’m twenty three now and I’m still not sorry for writing love poems about beautiful girls. I have stopped apologizing for being something that I’m proud of. I no longer hide behind my assumed heterosexuality. I proudly proclaim my attraction to women because I spent too many years being ashamed of being in love. I will never again sweep hatred under the rug to keep peace. I have never needed your approval for my love to be valid and I never will.
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 10:08 AM UTC
Near in the distance stood an ant on a chair.
Smooth but spiky skin with a flock of golden hair.
The ants name was Brian and his mum was the queen.
She drank lots of ***** in the largest nest ever seen.
Brian bucked the trend and turned to magic on the street.
Slight of hand his favourite or should I say 6 feet?
back to the story,
Brian was on a chair
Just about to remove it and levitate in the air!
The trick of a all tricks He hoped to be a star.
Make lots of money and travel wide and far!
The chair was removed and Brian floated high. No strings attached going upwards to the sky!!
Not a place for ants and this trick he did not tweak for Brian was last seen in a big birds beak.
The rumours quickly spread when attached to a tree twig was Brian's golden wig.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
.
•my
arms point
to the sky•
a gesture
frozen in eter-
nity•un- fazed as
the clouds whisper a
lie• rumours of rain that
never came quickly• prickles
protrude menacingly •threaten-
ing all who would stray too close•
baseless gossip that masquerade
as pleasant- ry•to deviate me from
the path i chose•still i stand
here...duelling the sun
•in a land scorched
barren•search-
ing for hope
when there's
really none•
here i stand...
lonely and
drought
stricken•
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
I remember it as if were yesterday
VE Day...well, not exactly
but, close enough for me
The actual surrender of Italy
May 2, 1945....but the **** Americans
Always the Americans wanted May 8
So, it's May 8th, but I'll always remember the second
We were in Milan...I love Milan
****** was dead, Mussolini was dead
I was alive, and in Milan
Rumours were out that the war in Europe was almost done
Nobody had told the Gerry's that though
Word came from Lubeck that they'd surrendered
I was twenty one years old, going on 50
War ages you...and not in a good way
I was in 6th Airborne and ready to go back
When the word came down
I remember kissing the waitress at our cafe
I kissed her hard, and with as much passion as a 21 yr. old can have
I didn't want to let her go
It was over
I kissed her for myself, and everyone in Milan
I kissed her for my folks in Clapham
I kissed her for her folks, wherever they were
I kissed her because we were free, they were free
I kissed her for my Uncle, who we lost early in 1941
Lost him during the blitz in London
England lost 430 people, we lost Uncle Cyril
That was enough, I was signing up
Now, it was over and I was moving on
I kissed her for everyone still waiting for the news
But, most of all, I kissed her for Leslie Testro, Rfn (18yrs)
Lance Cpl Thomas Wray (22 yrs), Lt. Dennis Edmonds (21 yrs)
and all the others attached to 6th Airborne
Who wouldn't know it was Victory in Italy
They were lost, not forgotten, never forgotten
Forever in our minds, our roll of honour
We celebrate them annualy
Few of us left now, but, those that are
go back to Italy every two or three years
back to Milan, and we toast them all
My waitress, Rosa Testrini
She was there as well, every year
Until five years back, we lost her
Now we toast her as well
We all have our honour roll
She was on mine
I found her again in 1950
We were on our second trip back
She met my wife, and I her husband
He's still there, and we talk
My Italian is better than his English
But, we talk as well as we can
I miss her, and the others
But that day, that glorious day in May
I've never kissed like that since
And my wife knows it
Sometimes she reminds me...
I laugh, and remind her....
What that day means...if it hadn't happened
We may not be kissing now
so, she'll never get that kiss
Only Rosa
Rest In Peace my waitress
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
Within these Rumours I have read past-date
Are Cheeky Darlings I will not observe
Why? Will adding Pepper improve the Taste
And lower the Pressure our Brains deserve?
The Stanford Machine was the Heretic
Condemning my Peace to un-needed curse
This Drama - a Theatre's immature Tick
Delivered my Intellect to your Hearse
Then, this Scene: Mercy bleeds on your Sweet Head
That Moment my Entire View did change
Prayer drowned my Tears as I knelt on your Bed
Asking the Father to heal you Today.
Yet, in Solemn's Fine, I beg you to see
Those Kneeling Hands over yours wasn't me.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
Where do you think you're going *****
Stop, I need to tell you some things which,
May break your pretty silicon heart,
So buckle yourself up, I'm about to start.
You think that with your haughty smile,
You're better than all of us by a mile,
Sad to shatter your fantasy world,
Now it's time to watch reality unfurl.
My beauty and strength make your toes curl,
My unbreakable spirit makes you want to hurl,
You can crush me beneath your six-foot frame,
But just know that there'll never be any shame.
Honoured to be the topic of your day,
The highlight of the **** you say,
I'm sneezing from the stench, my eyelids they twitch,
The rumours you spout, make my ears itch.
Unhappy to see my smiling face?
Do your eyes burn, to behold my grace?
Exit to the left right out of my life,
Before I come after you with a ten-inch knife.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Though in Prime Moment the Truth we discuss
The Third Great Angel flew to Intercede,
Playing her Harp which enwrangles the Lust
And gently reveal the Beauty-in-Thee
Yes, that Truest Virtue which no Malice accords
On Serving Patience a Letter was read
No more, no more for Condensation's Words
Are just enough to leave these Germs for dead
Not much for Command of Good English proposed
Was starting to tassle the Rumours and Wine
But such as you are yet too Young to dispose
A Lady's demanding Shell you design.
Pray take, this Harper knows how to direct
The Vitruvian Boy, waving for your Affect.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
The Great Debate started,
Parliament was the open forest,
electors were divided into two groups—
Sir Fox's, and
The Lion's,
The first group wanted to overthrow the Lion
from the sovereign head of the forest,
It was a tough job to confront Lion directly,
So, Sir Fox, appointed a Monkey as the Chief campaigner,
and that monkey appointed other monkeys in the business,
Scaring them with a story of vanishing trees, and living on
the land increases the mortality rate if Lion Party continues.
Monkey, the chief campaigner exclaimed,
“We are not living in the rule of law but in the rule of Lion,
All are equal, but the continuous target of a particular community,
Like a beautiful deer, by another community in majority
should be banned, Deers bring historic and aesthetic
significance to the forest
And need to be treated as the same,”
Deers bellowed gleefully hearing this.
Cows felt hurt,
their exclusion from Monkey’s speech
proved to be a setback to the Fox’s Party,
Cows were the most targeted community
by the Carnivores, everyone in the forest knew,
Potential voters were lost to Lion’s Party.
Polarising speeches of Chief continued,
It brought Rhinoceros to its side,
Seeing rhino in political rallies,
Hippopotamus chipped in,
To counter the increasing weight
Political advisor of Lion, i.e, Tiger,
persuaded Elephant to become an official
member of their party.
Hate speeches increased in numbers
Giraffe, the bearer and upholder of law,
Overlooked everything,
the long neck looked tilted towards
an ideology.
Rumours became truth,
truth became rumour
Monkey was good in it,
And an army of monkeys were excellent.
Parrots, Pigeons, Peacock,
**** Cuckoo, Cat,
Loved the importance they got,
Disseminated the Fox loving songs.
The listeners felt threatened,
They had an enemy living between them
and they were considering them friends,
They thanked the Parrot, Pigeon, Peacock
for pointing them out.
Now, biped hated quadruped,
Quadruped hated reptiles,
Reptiles did the same to amphibians,
And in this way the whole animal kingdom
danced in chaos,
The fiery speeches of Sir Fox helped
in creating illusion,
The slogan of the Man as a common enemy
was changed to, Feline as a common enemy,
Felines joined Sir Fox’s Party,
And Canines ran to Lion’s Party,
Obvious was difficult to observe
Obscure was easy to see.
to be continued
Oct 23, 2021
Oct 23, 2021 at 3:22 PM UTC
Strutting, the halls in Jimmy Choo boots,
Wearing a daring V-neck sweater that was envied by every girl,
Dark skinny jeans that ran along legs so firm and toned.
Hushed voices and awkward glances at the diva,
Who strolled through the doors.
Gossip and idle rumours echoed the halls as the blonde walked past.
Heads turned and stared as a locker flung open!
Romance novels and glossy magazines,
Covered in foam, spilling on the floor.
Tears rolling down cheeks, as haughty laughter filled the air.
Hurt and regret!
If only he was a girl, they would accept him.
But now, he's nothing but a boy!
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
So you think you are a master of techniques of persuasion?
You shallow pips-squeak, mediocrity is your mastery
the obsequious hoi polloi that surround you are the pitiable averageness of conciliation
Sophistry and subterfuge are your game of compromised facts
syllogistic arithmetic conceptualizing doesn't make anything so
your addition is flawed by your bungled bombast of banality and guile
fortunately for you, your crowd will never study logic
fortunately for you semi-literacy is de rigueur
You pompous swollen grandiose mass of hyperbolic gas
Fear is what you offer, lies are what you sell
your rhetorical flourish is as the stench of a waste dump
fetid, corpulent, fallow and febrile
toxic
half-truths, innuendos, ambiguities, conjecture and asinine aspersions comprise your specious fare,
fostering rumours, manipulating facts, you are the purported Biblical brood of vipers so extensively reviled against
Your relevancy is attributable to the dull stupidity so profusely prevalent today
Your "success" is the stuff of taint and treachery
You'll probably choke to death on a stuck piece of poorly masticated flesh
so appropriate and befitting the demise of a professional liar
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
You know
We have been together for a long time
But we haven't
You were the only one for me
But I wasn't for you
We may have seen each other every other year
But now we don't
I was a friend, maybe even just a person
But you...
you were so much more for me.
I have always wanted to be part of your life
to be part of your adventures.
To be by your side, every step of the day.
To be loved by you
But
I know that it was a dream
Everyone new
But did you?
I thought you did
but I heard rumours
Still to scared to face you and ask
but I wonder...
To late now though
But maybe someday
Hopefully
but if I face you now
I might just run away
but I know I will not.
For you are my Once Upon a Dream.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC