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Mateuš Conrad Feb 2022
articles like this really **** me off...
my father is a subscriber to The Times...
personally? i think that Monday ought to be treated
at a media / journalistic sabbath...
nothing ever happens on a Sunday:
what's there to write about on a Monday:
for a Monday... all the newspaper editions
are always the slimmest on a Monday...
it's like... take a hike, won't you?
the best day to read a newspaper, most definitely
a Sunday... it comes with all the cultural reviews
some recipes... a culmination of a week
or even a month... the news review and
the editorial comment sections are best on
a Sunday... why not print anything on a Monday?!
- and it's always on a Sunday that
i find all the juicy bits... the one day in the week
but the current month... bad timing...
either i watch the FA cup / the six nations
or i read a newspaper / the newspaper magazine
while drinking two bottles of 8.2% cider....
well, sure... with beer when you raise the game
to Carlsberg's Special ******* Brew that
comes in at 9%: it's an ugly affair... you start
squirming asking yourself: are you *******
a lemon?! but "alas"... it's cider... so it's almost like
drinking ****-poor diluted wine...
but it makes some agonising articles:
mostly written by women... a tad bit... more...
bearable...
         mainstream media is out of touch...
someone has already said it, someone is already
saying it: someone else will say it later on...
oh i'm big on the female-centric pieces of
the newspaper: forget all that objective journalism,
cold, hard, male: give me the facts and... *******...
no no... as a reader i'm also a weaver...
i like to spin a counter narrative in my head...
The Sunday Times STYLE magazine...
   Dolly Alderton speaks to a rising star in
pop music... a Self Esteem - formerly known
as Rebecca Lucy Taylor... oh, right...
so like Prince... or Michael Jackson:
the guy formerly known to be black? cool cool...
you can check her out...
music sort of akin to spoken word poetry:
whatever the hell that means... no, not Kate Tempest
style... again: spoken word poetry?
oh, right, i'm more into composition than
performance so this is: written word poetry...
fair enough...
   i'll sooner be found dead than performing my word
in the current climate... 'said a poopy word!
cancel him!' no thank you,
i still have a head ******* on this neck
on these shoulders... i'll wait for the jazz to calm
the **** down... i'll probably be an irrelevant
relic by then, hopefully mummified like
Lenin... you never know...
hmm... Rotherham-born... 35...
and what are the chances that...
you know... Rotherham... Pakistani grooming-gangs...
only yesterday my company employed
20+ Pakistani zombies that probably sprouted
out of cousin-on-cousin *******...
dull... zoned-out... glassy eyed *****...
what are the chances?
they looked... well... less sinister more murky...
slimy...no... not slim i.e. slimmy... slime-e...
slimey... i know, it should be written slimey
and not slimy... which sort of implies slimmy: slimming...
no no... so of how you'd write: smiley...
slimey... makes sense...
i'll just verbatim the headline...
(she really looks like a Marilyn Monroe doppelganger,
voluptuous, vivacious, all the required va va voom
of a woman)
   MEN ARE REALLY SCARED OF ME...
last time i checked... there's this ****** proverb
that states... fear has large eyes...
guess what... only yesterday i saw those large eyes
of fear when the four of us were outnumbered
by about 30+ screaming chanting taunting drunk
teenagers / football hooligans at a match...
i must have been squinting or something...
in this profession (of stewarding) i hear a lot of macho
bravado about smacking some...
very much aligned to the narrative borrowed
from the film: Rise of the Foot Soldier...
Essex gangland... blah blah br'uh...
                                       o.k. we get it: you have an erecticle
dysfunction, need to compensate by going
to the gym to increase your muscle mass...
modern films... hell...
they used to be great... up to the point where
they made it adamant that they were also
advertisement flicks... zooming in on products...
worn by characters in a no-plot scenario...
usually watches, electronic products...
food brands, restaurants...
it's like capitalism selling itself to capitalism...
what a hyper-inflated word...
which word? capitalism... i mean... i was born
in a former Soviet satellite state...
n'ah... it wasn't so bad... "my" people sort
of went along with the Russian influence:
when the art of metallurgy was still in "fashion"
in Eastern Europe, but it's not like we took
the Bolsheviks that much seriously than "we" did
the Nazis... after all: funny fact:
it took **** Germany AND Soviet Russian
to conquer Poland than it took **** Germany
to conquer France... Napoleon must have been
turning in his grave...
    i don't think men are scared of women...
personally i like to think of them as timid little
creatures that... OVER-ESTIMATE
their worth, confidence,
                              looks, worth...
                availability... as a man that knows how
to cook, as a man that does all the house chores...
and all the man *******...
oh, right, today... one of my cats did a ****-poor
job at taking a ****...
she managed to plough out two blobs from the "cuvette"
and leave them sitting pretty on
the matt beside the "cuvette"...  
   yes yes, i know, it's a misnomer... read some Wittgenstein...
i'm thinking in ****** while writing in
English... the word is originally French...
blah blah... i lied to little Freddy / Reinhart about
the origins of the word haemorrhage -
one of the words for his school spelling exams...
i said: oh... that's Latin... i'm kicking myself
over the etymological falsity i passed down on to him...
yes: it's Greek...
from HAIMA - blood (noun) &
                         RHEGNUNAI - burst (verb)...
so then i lifted her up and sniffer her...
oh jeez! Louise! **** this ****... i'm not having some
stinking cat walking about my house...
meow meow... ******* horror movie meow...
well you should have taken a **** better!
scratching, a proper bite at the hand!
into the shower with you! washed her from all the
stink... petulant little **** of a cat that she
was she managed to come across as penitent
when i shampooed her and the water was running
down her spine... ha ha...
so much for a maine ****... more like a rat now...
wrapped her up in a blanket put her
on my lap and watched about 20 minutes
of Liverpool's struggle with Birmingham City in
the FA cup...
                  then ****** off on my bicycle for some
whiskey and turkey stakes for the cats to eat...
wait... didn't i once feed Quorus a fish eye,
while filleting a trout? oh yeah... i did...
that was fun to watch... i sometimes catch mosquitos
by the legs and feed them too...
- do men can possibly fear women?
plainly, on the outright? i very much doubt it,
like Bane said in that opening scene from
Christopher Nolan's Batman movie:
this is no time for fear, doctor... that comes later...
how women have churned out a complete
lack of perception misguiding initial attraction
for fear... it's like they have no clue about how
men behave... when they're attracted
to women... "unconscious" curiosity is not
a fear... a woman is still somewhat abstract...
hell: to me she's forever an abstract...
i don't have the practicality of a man that might
gamble, take the plunge...
impregnate one...             last time i heard
it was considered a bad idea for a man to be
present at child-birth... women should take care
of women's "issues"...
ooh... i'm scared of a woman
but not a ******* tiger? logic paradox...
i'm scared of a puddle but not the raging sea!
how did women conjure up this
invulnerability? too many boy bands in the 90s...
too many male feminists?!
- and then the Sarah Everard ******...
men are scared of women... BOMBAST egoism...
no, not scared... just a case of men
scrutinising: is this going to be worthy?
tying the knot... getting up at 5am, coming back
home at 8am and getting nothing
5 pieces of sushi to eat... the house in a turmoil,
the kids growing up feral...
is it... worth merely the looks?!
the looks, right now? i mean... she's going to
be a ******* granny in about 20 years
if she's already a single mum aged 39...
is it going to be worth it?
or... if she's in her 20s... what's her boredom
spectrum, does she need to be on a ferris-wheel
all the ******* time or can she take an hour
of reading beside a fireplace and the deafening silence...
can she handle Mistress Death?
has she been to a funeral? has one of her grandparents
died?!
right...                    yeah.... scared of a woman
because of her good looks...
                scared akin to: what are the chances
she's going to go on a cosmopolitan safari
of **** given the current influx of black walking
****** of migrants on dingy boats...
what are the chances of her becoming a liability
rather than a partner?!

- - - - - - interlude - - - - - - -

****, where was i? oh man, i really love listening
to garbage... no, not literally...
the band... stupid girl, i'm only happy when it rains,
#1 crush, dog new tricks...
i never thought i'd find a recipe for
pasta and smoked salmon... lucky me...
so ******* simple... onion, sour cream,
some tomato(s), two tablespoons of capers,
lemon juice... pepper... chilly flakes...
preferably the Korean ones that also act like
turmeric - i.e. they colour the food...
smoked salmon added at the last minute...
some slices reserved for garnish to make
the dish look more appealing... and obviously
dill... to be honest: a lot of dill...
what did i watch? Beijing Winter Olympics...
why are they so racist?! joke... seriously
that's a joke... why are, why oh, oh my god why
are the winter olympics so racist?!
no winters in Africa?! maybe?!
no ******* snow... what are they going to
do... surfing on the dunes of Sahara?!
ha ha... it's untouchable! i love it!
but what i don't love... why didn't all the countries
simply, outright, boycott Ch-ch-ch-I-n'ah?!
why indulge them as if nothing *******
happened for the past 2 years...
i mean... the Soviets were boycotted back
in the day when people had... ***** for brains
and brains for *****... but these days?
even the **** are ******* labradors lapping up
any attention going their way... ******* silly *****...

plus, the Olympics per se...
there was always equality when it came to sports...
not popular sports like rugby,
football or boxing, i give you that...
sports for rich men and silly little ***** to drool
over status...
but real sports... unattractive sports,
unpopular sports...
we're not going to have a pay gap debate
when it comes to professional tennis...
women only have to play a maximum of 3 sets...
men? 5 sets... how long did that Australia Open
final take, to get finished? close to 6 hours?
right...
     what wage gap?
well, at least in the Olympics a man has
to run a marathon... a woman runs what? half of it?
no no... ***** is running the ******* marathon...
hundred metres? she's running the hundred metres...
obviously she's going to be slower...
that's not my problem... but even saying that...
i enjoy female tennis more than the men's...
i don't know... they moan more?!
or perhaps my generation, the millennials
produced 2 of the 3 greatest players in: whenever...
so... maybe it just a got a bit ******* boring...

oh, but i'll be boycotting the current Olympic
games in Beijing... it's not progressive enough,
there are not enough... what's that ******* acronym...
B.C.I.W. - black, coloured, indigenous, women...
i don't know what the state of the current
alphabet soup of acronyms from H'america is at...
****! **** ****! pump snow to Africa!
get some ice! let's get a bobsleigh team going!
******* Wankees and their currency
of current rotten ideas!

ha ha: it's already served to me on a silver platter...
all i have to do is drink a little and stew and spew...

sure, it's only going to be a soft boycott,
i just watch those games,
pointless... thanks for the pandemic,
no thank you, otherwise...
i sort of feel sorry for the athletes being so compliant
with the narrative...

oi! Ummah! where's you suicide squad from
Saudi Arabia's elite breaking into
the concentration camps where
the Uyghurs are being sentenced to unspeakable
horrors? oh sure... attack the West while
seeking proselytes, but don't care about
your existing Muslim community...
i see a third breaking apart of Islam...
i don't know why i see it... but this will not be
along the lines of the Sunni and Shiah...
this might actually involve the Turks...
i see the Turks as a third, separate,
branch of Islam: even if they're not already that,
where are your little ****-pants blow-themselves-up
rather than fight, fighting for your Ummah
in Ch-ch-ch-I-n'ah?!
                                   oh right, nowhere to be found...
too busy kiddy-fiddling English girls
in Rotherham!
      ******* degenerates!
i'm fuming at the teeth: and they have the *******
audacity to lecture me about, principle?
racists too... they think very little of the Chinese...
as Muslims... the "master religion"
the "master race"... ******* camel-jockeys...
the whole entire rest of them!

- the temperature in the house dropped to 17 degrees...
ooh, a bit chilly... wrote my father's invoice,
took out the garbage, ****... forgot to take out
the dwindling yellow tulips, will do, next week...
received an email that i passed my NVQ for role
as steward... well great... pressed play on
the thermostat... waited as i did all of that...
oh my my... it's getting hot... ran up to my bedroom
to turn it off... it read... 18 degrees...
wow! wow! imagine what one degrees Celsius makes...
i never thought... well: i never thought that
could be possible...

- - - - - - - - end of interlude - - - - - - - - - - -

i must have finished writing about the previous
article, since, i took time for an interlude of...
what was already stated...
                           this second article... i have to begin
with a rubric, oh yeah, it's sourced:
   ONS, UN, relate.org...

rubric, i.e. a list and it's as follows (leaving the approximation
words aside):
1. 1 in 7 people in the UK living alone by 2039
1. 61% of single women say they are single-happy
  compared with 49% of men
            (men, if they lie, are good at it,
   good enough to become serial killers;
    but women? they are compulsive,
which does't necessarily translate as them being
                       good at it; they're usually not -
they're spastic-fantastic sort of clumsy, at it)
3. 1 in 6 of British people believe in the concept
   of "the one"...
4. 10% of Brits enjoy the **** to the ****
with the chicken; 13% in the wake of the fine fine
MADE IN CHINA whatever-it-was don't
feel ready for intimacy...

               oh sure... the hypochondriacs have
finally been found... i was wondering why they /
where they disappeared to... but now they're in plain
sight... with their secular makeshift niqqabs...
i like this transparency... it's good for an apparent
"schizophrenic" to start to feel more comfortable
in his skin... then again: thank you China...
i can now clearly see the neurotics and the hypochondriacs...
the little people on the spectrum of the asylum...
no... the micro-aggression crowd...
no... not the raving lunatics...
the cult of the moon crowd...
the ones speaking to their shadows... taking
selfies of their shadows... haunting graveyard type
of crowd... thank you... i can see the mice...

5. 25% think they are out of bedroom practice, antics...
well, d'uh... 8% are more open to same-*** relationships...

  yeah, i was thinking that... maybe it would be easier
dating a man... but he'd have to be Greek...
and be learned in... classical thought from ancient
times when pederasts where accepted
like modern Pakistan freely welcomes paedophiles
as long as they do it to English girls... that sort of, "thing"...

i abhor the western concept of dating...
i might have been on a date once...
yeah... i was on a date once...
we went to an art gallery,
to the cinema, to a restaurant...
then we started dating, we were in high school...

after that? i was already ******* her
when she asked me to take her to a sea-food restaurant
for clams, oysters and mussels...

dating... oh, right... that one speed-dating event
that made me look like an ***...
dating... is that like... the Chelsea flower show?
you know... where you go to see flowers
but can't pluck any for a bouquette
to take home? it must be like that...
i wouldn't know... ****** off to the brothel
early... found a stone in the shape of a heart
on the pavement once...
called it my own... never looked back...

   just to make sure... i treat oath words very much
akin to superlatives - i know they're not superlatives,
but in the sense of keeping a modern
narrative... they're pretty much akin to being
treated as such, as, i dare say,
punctuation marks without actually being punctuation
markers... they allow for a flow of ideas,
for a flow of a narrative...

cuntish ******* filth if you ask me:
but i do wash my teeth on a regular basis
and i do eat healthily...

6. 1 in 10 Brits is burned-out by dating...
   & dating apps...
                                       don't know... never used
any... i'm still archaic in that i still have
a Facebook account...

7. 71% of men feel a pressure to be in relationships
compared to 58% of women...

as the list goes on... am i, supposed to feel, surprised?!

8. a 16% increase in those living alone...
9. 1 in 6 between the ages of 45 & 64 live alone
10. 48% of "singletons" (women) feel a pressure
to find a partner based off of their social
relationships... men work, together...
******* socialising... ******* with the banter...
the chit-chat... what are we doing,
where are we doing it, how long will it take?
base... women do all that private revelry *******...

11. women are more likely so say that a relationship
is unsatisfactory...  
              well... yeah... look sharp, Sherlock!
Watson's coming! ******* plonkers for plumbers!

12. there are three other facts, but they are
citing **** without numbers...
so... i'm not going to bother... based on feels...   yawn...
it's much easier to just recite lyrics from
the Garbage song: Stupid Girl...
you pretend you're high,
you're pretend you're bored,
pretend you're everything,
just to be adored...
and what you need, is what you get...
don't believe in fear...
don't believe in faith,
don't believe in anything,
that, you can't break...
stupid girl... stupid girl..
all you've had you've wasted...

oh, my god, is it my job to warn them off?!
HE will ask: and how ws your life...
i've lived with cats enough time to know:
and HE will ask... never mind: it be be a SHE...
and IT will ask... and ask... are you
awake... as if... implying: do you think you're dead?!

the rest of the article...
the pinnacles of female freedom...
i'm not going to cite them they're disgusting....
she goes through *******
cosmic concepts and premonitions that
are less grounded in the sands of Arabia
by a horses' hoof than a camel "toe"...

these wankers want to come up north and
dictate the ******* rules...
dictate this... change my ******* mind!
******* plop of a soppy **** that you..
quasi-***** seem to be...
kiddy-fiddlers... you soppy losers...
cousin-*******... camel-jockeys...
weak... quasi-men...
men... sort of...

          i'm not going to go through her article...
she's a sorry *** loser
by the standards expected of men...
no sorry... kind ***...
men band together....
  all as one... or none: to begin with!
and you women, think,  "think"...
you can somehow infiltrate our ranks...
what? you gonna bake me a bannana loaf
worth of loaf..
with all the pecan / walnut "trimmings"...
girl... you're having a ******* laugh...

i'm not reading through this *******...
you want me to bite someone's neck?
no one has yet seen how feral i can could become...
at the job...  i could just roll my eyes back
declaring nothing but sclera...
again: why are women even involved
in this sort of *******?!
why?! are?! you? *******!! here!! ypu,
******* useless, *****?!

i'm here to pick up a fight...
but here you are, pretending to be
a ******* grandma... and that's your excuse...
*****, i hope you get your head sorted,
get punched.... silly ******* cucnt...
oh right... my excuse among the football
hooligans... i'm i woman!
don't touch me! i'n your sister, your mother...
this **** is going to boil...
you tell me that ****, one, more,
******* time... i'm going to 'ed in yurr
******* grandm'ah...!
i know these *****... women are playing
a tight game...

esp. when you... ***** yourselves......
Rotherham didn't ******* help...
you ******* cheap **** ******...
i keep tight, silent, because...
i've been to brothels... but this ****...
i'm not even English... this... sort of hurts...
it, can't be, allowed, an outlet,
via... football, matches...
no, mate, no!

   your sister has been suckered into *******
this... sickle- cell anemia sort of *****
from Pakistan...
oh don't worry about theit race...
they don't have a skin tone...
their skin tone... if any:
cant's miss 'em... slimey *****...
olive oil slimey...
in-bred looking *****... *****-eyeds...
sorry... some people just look
******* clueless! period!
like they're out of "the game"...
they're gone... they're meat for the machinery!
the end! sorry... stop sopping:
no one's special!
weird like... Frankenstein looking
at the monster he created... seriously?!
i, made... that? oh, **** me...
better **** it... but wait...
oh... a chance he might transcendent me...
no... not with these kiddy-fidddling Pakistanis...
chances are... the ******* 4 seasons on
the continent of Antacrtica!
Sjr1000 Feb 2014
I've been digging
through this dumpster
far too long
trying to get to the bottom of it all.
Slimey sweet stench
there's my first love
my first pipe
my last light
my first rush
my last gush
my first bet
my last buck
"the game ain't over
until the rent money's gone."

I am down a deep hole
and my only tool is a shovel
I've got that one choice
but to go
down
down
down.
Drunk and dial
Drunk and poetry
how did I get here
how do I get out?

I'm a spiritual wasteland
connected to no one
connected to nothing
My drug
My man
My woman
My casino
The rush comes first
The numbness comes last
until
death, insanity or jail
is within my grasp.
I do what I do
But I am allergic too
you understand
when I do what I do
I break out in handcuffs
jail cells
strapped down to beds
looking around
longing for my dumpster
and
what I might have found.

1st Step
12th Step
I've done them all
though the 13th Step
I liked the best
Sponsors have come and gone
Spiritual awakenings
have all been done
I am back in this dumpster
where I had begun.

There is an exquisite mystery
at the heart of it all
the internal shift
happens
an inside job
The 21 year old's first black out
enough is enough
The 60 year old
on his fifth DUI
going out for one more round.

It is true
I have seen it many times
Recovery can be found
Hope restored
Wisdom in these halls
Peace within these walls
The dumpster closed
and left behind
A ladder falls and arrives
acceptance and gratitude
combine
as they say
"One day at a time."
"Poker the game ain't over until the rent money is gone" was on a greeting card.
13th Stepping is hitting on new comers in meetings.   I am not in recovery yet, but I always need to add the yet.
maryJAEne Dec 2013
Tony Story
Tony killed his ol’man Ty for a whole brick
Lined’em all up and gave’em the whole clip
Said he wasn’t eatin he wanted his own ****
And not to mention Ty was ****** his Ol’*****
But Ty wasn’t a shoota, that ***** just sold bricks
And Tony he was reckless he never had no picks
Tony was like the Alpo, Ty was the Lil Rich
2 ****** with a dream that plotted on goin rich
Started as a team but Ty had got on stiff
Jealousy the reason that Ty got left all stiff
Got Tony at the viewin, Ty mom cryin to’em
He hug’er, he tell’er who ever did this he gone do’em
From there it was a silence, she aint condone violence
But they killed’er only son, so when he said it she just nodded
And he told’er that he got’er, grimey at its best, Like tony had a cold
You feel the slimey in his chest. YES! He had the nerve to carry the casket
Strapped up before he went, he had to carry his ratchet, he nervous, walkin
Like he tryna carry’em faster, ***** even grabbed the shovel tried to burry’em faster. Next week he at the mall, Rolly on his arm, 2 bad ******* with’em laughn havin a ball. Seen Ty cousin Paul, Paul couldn’t believe it. Same ***** ask’em for
A front last weekend. Walk around the mall Louie on, Bags Nimen, With the gold diggen ******* Lil Ki and Bad Trina. He dap Tony up, Tryna cap tony up, in his head he thinkin how he gone CLAP Tony up. But Tony he aint worried cause he strapped Tony up, 7 days of runnin he already turned it up. He got Pauly burnin up, he ready to Ride, He know Tony a killer, but he ready to die. AHHHHHHHHH, smell the death all in the air, Pauly thinkin bout puttin a check all on his head, but he cant, cause Tony he done killed his first cousin, if he let somebody else do it, it wont mean nothin. He wanna see’em bleedin, he wanna see’em gaspin, wanna watch’em die slow like he sufferin from cancer. Feel like Tony did it but he ont really know the answer, so he gone let it burn, until it get confirmed. Couple months fly by, Tony on the high rise, started flippin chicken now he got them chickens in like Popeye. Pauly still getting it, he always been a top guy, he aint really club but tonight he gone stop by. Seen Lil Ki & dem, it was 2 or 3 of dem, standin in the line he said ima pay for me and dem. Pulled his money out, started countin it and teasin’em, you know Ki gold diggen *** wanna be with’em. Slid up in the club told the waiter give me 3 of dem, bottles of that ***** now Ki just wanna leave with’em. He said where ya phone at? She said where you gone at? He said ima slide out, She said ima ride out. Told’er friends call yall tomorrow when I get to my moms house. They got right up outta there, took’er to his side house. Soon as they got in the crib she just blew his mind out, waisted off them bottles Pauly boy she on a nod off. But Pauly he aint goin sleep, grabb’er phone up off the sheets, took it to the livin room her messages he going through, scroll up to Tony name he text’er whatchu doin boo, she text’em back im in the crib, he text’er back you comin through, she text where im comin to? He text back 1022, Woodstock in North Philly, take the E-way to the Zoo. She said that im comin now, Look at here what Pauly found, got the drop on Tony where he live now its goin down. Couple weeks later Pauly on Woodstock, sittin in his many van, Tented with his hood cocked. Tony just rolled up Pauly got the good drop, 44 in his hand bout to make the hood ROCK. Tony slippin, Pauly all dippin, walk up on his car like what’s POPPIN lil *****. Tony lookin shocked, his glock was in his box so he couldn’t grab for it, Paul said that’s ya *** boy. He said you still need that work that you asked for, Dropped it all on his lap it was 4 in a half raw. Tony he lookin crazy he know that’s the last draw and Pauly just let it go, put its prains on the dash board. POW!
Dan Speers Jul 2010
Writhing slimey slick snakes of oil
Around the Gulf of Greed now crawl
What we sought will consume us all.
What before was venerated
Our pristine world penetrated,
****** bodies violated,
Writhing slimey slick snakes of oil.
Published on Twitter
Copyright 2010 by Dan Speers
www.CitizenPoet.com
softcomponent Sep 2014
the adderall dripping down the back of my throat tastes like sour oranges. little patches of sooty blackness caress the strange dips under my eyeballs as a sign of overworked modernity eating filth to break the fast of a dinnerless evening. cars... more and more cars... glide up Johnson Street on direction to an anywhere packed with reason and meaning, travel-wrung after hours of work and play like Greek tragicomedies written in an Indo-European language lost to the passage of endless time in the Urals. Trailing behind us, the Cossack signaled for the rest of his entourage to approach a little slower if the city were to be won from the Mongol horde approaching Baghdad at the eastern gate (A.D. 1258) and within the little eyelid movies drizzling through my mind every time I close my eyes, I heard screams and scrambled hashtags pleading for humanitarian assistance.. pleading for a chance to rescue the Islamic Golden Age from the brink of its twilight battle with obliviously obvious tired-eyed savagery reveling in the soft moonlit warmth of Mesopotamian beachsand. Blood was being worn as some sort of slimey undergarment, leveling the entire populace to a place so far gone, the mind could no longer discern the universe as a set of tetris patterns blocked and connected with a light string of consciousness, the light of intense college-student starvation as if tuition were the bloodlands trapped between ****** and Stalin.

There isn't much to be said for the way she used to dance. It was sort of like a jimmied cow-- I say 'jimmied' in the context of a cow, out late, midwestern meadow, center of the winter, shivering... shivering so profusely, it was almost as if it were dancing. Dancing, jimmied, silly, frightened, escapist sentiments pulsing through his beef belly blood as if he were capable of some sort of latent sentience, some sort of ability to discern love from hate, black from white, ethical standards from matters of the spirit. That's the way she danced.

She'd shiver to the beat like a dangling mango, misplacing herself in the music. She would cry a little, too. You could see the tears in her aura, flagrantly asking to be left alone. Flagrantly leasing themselves to the moment and whatever delight the moment could afford.

She asked me; "so, what do you look for in a girl?"
I said: "a decalcified pineal gland."

She jingled her keys in front of me, and smiled. I lost myself in someone elses talking points; across the room, I could hear the chatter of some teenage lip-reader repeating her every word line-for-line. It was 12:58 AM, the Mongols began their destruction of the Abbasid libraries. I just stood there, amazed at the near ventriloquism of this strange pretender. Was he, perhaps, pulling her strings? Was she, perhaps, a puppet? Was there, perhaps, an instant connection between these 2 brains on the quantum level, one effecting the other, regardless of the distance in space and time?
Big Virge Feb 2020
George Lammings' Definition ...  
Inspired ... THIS INSCRIPTION ...  

Which Delves Into Descriptions ...  
of SLIME Within Our Vision ... !!!  

HUMAN Slime ... BELIEVE That's Right ... !!!  
They DON'T Turn GREEN But Most Are MEAN ...  
Just Like The HULK ... When He Gets ANGRY ... !!!  
  
SMASHING Lives Because They're ... "Sly" ...  
And Are QUICK To Comply With Those Who LIE ... !!!  
  
So Do They Have The Right To Do What They Like ... ?!?  
I DON'T ThinK So And THAT's ... NO JOKE ... !!!!!  
  
UNLIKE The Hulk These People ... " skulk " ...  
Because Their Bite AIN'T Worth A ***** ... !!!!!!  
  
They're DIFFERENT Types ... !?!  
DIFFERENT In Ways That AREN'T So Nice ... !!!  
  
Some Are WIVES ... DON'T Be SURPRISED ... !!!  
There's As Many of Them As There Are GUYS ...  
Who Could Be DEFINED As ... " HUMAN SLIME " ... !!!!!  
  
The Types Whose RISE Is Down With CRIME ... !!!  
Crimes A PLENTY Cos' They're EVER READY ...
To Yup ..... KNOCK Steady ..... !!!!  
  
UNTIL The LOAD Becomes .... uNStEady .... !!!!!!!!!  
Cos' They're The First To GO When Things Get HEAVY ... !!!!!!  
  
TAKING The Strain Is NOT Their Game ... !!!  
They Leave That To Those Who They've Left BROKE ... !!!!!!!!!!!  
  
So MANY Quotes Are NOT ... " A Joke " ... !!!  
  
That PROVE That SLIME Are Suitably PRIMED ...  
To USE Their Swerve To AVOID The ........................ BURN ...... !!!!!!!  
of Moves They USE That ... FILL UP Urns ... !!!!!  
  
Some ARE Lawyers ...  
SOME ... Employers ...  
  
Some ENJOY ... TOUCHING Young Boys ... !!!!!  
  
SEE What I Mean ... SLIME AIN'T Clean ... !!!!!  
And Some AREN'T Seen ... Because Their SHEEN ...  
In COMPANY Sometimes SEEMS To Be SWEETER Than Sweet ... !!!
  
How Can That Be When SLIMEY Peeps' ...  
Are FULL of GREED And SHATTER Dreams ... !!!  
  
Dreams of ... " LOVE " ...  
  
Don't Get TIE UP With One of THEM ...  
Because THAT For SURE Will Bring PROBLEMS ... !!!!!  
  
I've Met SO MANY Whose Vibe IS ... SMELLY ... !!!!!  
WITHOUT ............................................... " Perfume " ... !!!!!  
In FACT Their STENCH Tends To ... EMPTY Rooms ... !!!  
  
UNLESS They're THOSE Who NOW ... " HOST Shows "  ... !?!  
They Are PRO's Who've GOT ... NO SHOW ... !!!  
But To THESE Guys .... Street ****** Are SLIME ... !?!  
  
THAT DON'T Seem Right ... ?!?  
The WHORISH Types I've Met In Life ...  
Sometimes Wear SUITS And CORPORATE Ties ... !!!  
  
The Types of Guys And Girls Whose Style's ...  
DEFINE The Class Who Like To LICK *** To Get On TOP ... !!!  
  
But Here's The Prob' ... They're From A CROP ...  
Who DON'T Seem To Know When They Should ... STOP ... !!!!  
  
STOP And GO..............................................  
  
Go Back Home And Be ... " ALONE " ...  
And REMOVE THAT SLIME From Being ON THEIR BONES ... !!!  
  
How Many Times Have You Sat And KNOWN ...  
That You Were In The Presence of ... One of Their CLONES ... !?!?!  
  
POLITICAL Zones Tend To HAVE THOSE ... !!!  
As DO SCHOOLS ... DON'T Get It Confused ... !!!  
TOO MANY School Teachers Seem To Be FALSE Leaders ... !!!  
QUICK To ABUSE ... INNOCENCE In Youth ... !!!!!  
And QUICK To REFUSE ... FACING Issues ...  
ESPECIALLY When They're Part of THEM ... !!!!!  
  
SLIMEY Sprees That Seem To FUEL Their Need ... !?!  
To FILL Their Pockets ... Like Plugs Do Sockets ... !!!  
  
NEAT And ... "SNUG" ...  
Like ... " Sprockets and Chains " ...  
  
The Kind of Stuff ...  
That Makes Todays' ... " SLAVES " ... !!!!!!  
  
SLAVES To ... " The System " ...  
That SLIME Seems To ... " LIVE IN " ...  
  
GOVERNMENT Homes Where WICKEDNESS Roams ...............
WITHOUT GOOD Soap To CLEAN The Dopes ... !!!!!  
Who AREN'T SO Slow ... When It Comes To Making Hay ... !!!!!  

While The Rest Dismay .....
At The DISARRAY They've Caused Today ... !!!!!  
  
It's A LEGACY That's Now INCREASED ...  
Because of SLIME That's NOW Like GREASE ... !!!!!  
In The Cogs of The Wheel That MANY Now Feel ...  
Has Been DESIGNED To ... ROB And STEAL ...  
From The Peeps' Who Are NOW In NEED ...  
Because of GREED And GOVERNMENT Thieves ... !!!!!  
  
I'll End This Piece With Word Like THESE ...  
  
It's EASY To See THESE SLIMEY Creeps ...  
But How MUCH Mr. Slime Resides IN ... " THEE " ... ?!?  
  
Resides IN ME And YES ... IN YOU ... ?!?  
When WE ALLOW THESE SLIMEY Crews ...  
To KEEP On Doing ... What They Do ... !?!  
  
We NEED To RECOGNISE OUR PART In The CRIMES ...  
of THOSE ... " Lamming Describes " ...  
  
As BEING ...  
  
... " Mr. Slime " ...
We CLEARLY Have, FAR TOO MANY of em', running around, and sadly now, running countries and humanity, into the ground !!!
Zack Mar 2014
Don't be scared to sneeze in MATH105
Blow these numbers off the page, so I can finally have an excuse to
Blow off some time with you

I want to memorize what that sneeze sounds like, unique to the individual
Each sound varies upon sneezers voice,
allergies, voice box, larynx, even personality
If that's all true, I bet even you, sneeze as **** as a *******!

The only thing that I want more wet and slimey than the inside of your elbow,
Is the way we make love
"Oh baby, that's it!
Sneeze for me! Sneeze harder!
Sneezed like you've never sneezed
for a man before and then sneeze
harder!"

Don't EVER hold a sneeze back!
You're not only killing brain cells
But killing me as well!
I want to see what kind of tornados
you can throw when a dust storm
gets at you
What demons are you hiding,
not letting Christ expel

Don't be ashamed!
Are you scared that just you're sneeze
Will create tsunami waves of attention
If so! I'm buying a front row ticket wearing
nothing but arm floaties and a rain coat

If you get sick, kiss me with your breathe
And well get over this cold- feet together

I want to know your sneeze so when we
Are cooking dinner, you can be half way through inhale
And I'll have a tissue and the words
"Bless you"
Already trotting outta my mouth

I want to be the blessed one
To be within hearing distance
Be able to bless you back  
See you come outta your shell for .237 seconds
There to catch the science of your anatomy jumping off the cliff of your nose

I want to be in the bookstore,
Reading super hero graphic novels
And hear you in your boredom two floors up at Starbucks, sneeze,
And be able to say
"YES! THATS MY MAN!!"
You hear that one Peter Parker?
Try to dodge your spidey-sense around that one!
That's a sneeze that'd make the phone booth go inside Clark Kent!

We'll have two kids, named
Gesundheit and Salud
The cat's name will be Ah-Choo
Unless you're allergic to cats
Then scratch the kids, we'll have
A cat zoo! So I can hear the symphony
Of your nostrils on the daily

If you think this poem is gross
Wait tell you see the way I sneeze
When I'm thinking of you
Lavender Menace Mar 2020
I hate hamburgers. The meat seems purpluent and frankly, the whole entourage is terribly disdaining.
Although I know it's wrong of me to choose my slimey, unhealthy version of the food mixture, I adore it so. The beautiful, white thick and firm yet light and fluffy vanilla waffle bun, with holes that could tear your very soul out (and your drive to lose weight) and lead it to a creamfilled neverland of euphoric bliss.
The raspberries and they're very mucilaginous texture, ever tempting me alike sweet filled ***** tempts up your stomach and out of your mouth because the habit and this strangely erodic hamburger that you can't seem to keep away from yourself.
Under those sticky temptations that humans named raspberries. Lies an evil not to be released unto this innocently skinny world. The gluttonous rice, the red bean paste. And. the. Unholy amount of S U G A R… yes, my fellow small waist golden cricket. For the good of hell and heaven I will warn you of the gluttonous evil called the mochi patty. We've all heard of mochi. That beautiful ice cream filled tragedy. Only my vividly destructive hell that i call an imagination could conjure this terrible fat producer as a patty in this baneful “hamburger” this mochi patty creates an all ailing armageddon in your calorie count. And a suburb genesis for your tastebuds, for the smooth, powdered sweet beauty is the bane of all. The fall of man was brought by mochi, because mochigome is an angelic harm.
The next ingredient in this burger of allure is a safe ingredient. F i n a l l y.
Honey
Mustard.
It's but in normal food and it's not too sweet, there must be SOME health benefits of it surely? That small amount of spice in the creamy oasis. Mixes gracefully with the rest of its poisonous peers.
Now back to my torture of pain and of chocolate *****, next is something hard to save you from all this soft. But don't be fooled just yet, this slab of hard is N O T a salvation. For a slab of hershey's milk chocolate is not ideal for hale. The brits can't even handle how much sugar is in this bar of pure D I S A S T E R. your immune system can't take this angelic evil, eat a carrot instead.
Strawberry ice cream is next made with sugar, vanilla, strawberry flavoring, and E V I L.
Filling your large intestine with sin, strawberry ice creams smooth, creamy flavor. With tiny chunks of cheesecake that squish between your teeth and travel down your throat like columbus, come to enslave the naitive americans that is your pride. Be warned strawberry ice cream might smell like the top of a baby's head going in, but going out it smells like artificial strawberry ***** and shame.
Popped like little tuberculosis bubbles in the saten ice cream. Is what people call bursting boba. I call them orbs of joy, the smooth surface in your mouth is always a surprise, it feels like a cyanide pill. Until it goes P O P in your mouth releasing sweet calcium lactate and artificial flavoring into your soul. They never fail to make you happy. But of course, as all happiness seems to do it eventually makes you want to throw your fat self off a cliffside and that bursting boba will be the cause of your head B U R S T I N G. on the sement.
And last but certainly not least you get to taste the savory evil that is the vanilla waffle bun, once again. And O H H this old friend is not very fun to see once again. The thick bun might be expansive on its own, but i promise it will E X P A N D in your poor stomach. And tasting all of this heinous resplendent horror together will probably **** you from an aneurysm or obesity, or diabetes, or disappointment. But all together it's perfect. And a disaster.
A perfect disaster.
Soooo, funny story actually. This was not meant to be a poem, my seminar professor assigned me to write something about the Perfact hamburger using "evocitive words" and I procrastinated untill the day it was due so I wrote this whole thing like an hour before I was sopposed to turn it in and my friend read over it and told me it kinda sounded like poetry, she then proceeded to force me to post it on here. I went a bit overboard on everything so I'm very sorry for that.
Backlit Desire Jul 2012
casket, casket, buried deep, will you ever let me sleep?
rising inch by inch to the top of ground, let out that beast that sleeps so sound.
poking, rotting, stench filled air, shall you occupy dying despair?
without a word, up forth it springs, to the madness that my heart still gleams.
crazed and cursed for ever more, you will decompose way before.
maggots squirming, loss of life, this is something made by a knife.
keen and sly it slips so nice, from under your chin it was a slice.
draining red no more, soaked and breathless upon the floor.
"why?" you ask, we'll never know.
falling faster ,faster for hells repour.
sticky, slimey cavern walls, over and over the calmness calls.
she lost her mind and found a pill. taken before against her will.
now she writhes and moans only to gurlge on that pink foam.
fading darkness coming fast, never did she think it would be her last.
now the demons tear and bite. each one overjoyed by her fright.
choking, coughing unable to breath, he sat up with liquid running down his sleeve.
razor clipped tendons from wrist to rut. an elbow bent like a ***** ****.
draining, pale, eyes rolled back. now its time to hit the sack.
another one found that their dying breath was nothing more than a **** fest.
painted senseless, it never to be told. lied, cried, denied, inside, confide.
let out that evil sin so i can make you live in hell again.
the devils might, needed no more, yet watching me from below the floor.
gripping, grabbing, groping, nothing to hold. not even a light in all the void.
wither, wasted, wonton, worthless flames flickering among your decrepit names.
say it once to me now! now again! i say. let me hear you forget to pray.
casket, casket buried deep...will you ever let me sleep?
Noah Clark Dec 2017
I tend to distance myself from venomous people.

Like snakes they slither in to your life

And strike when your most vulnerable.

Deceptive and devious

Masters of manipulation.

I know some snakes.

Slimey, cold hearted, slithery snakes.

The way they insert themselves

into your heart

and extract the deepest and darkest information

Only to use it against you

so effortlessly
its repulsive
Yet impressive

Keep yourselves from snakes
Slimey
Slithery
Sneaky
Snakes
They'll ruin you
To my dearest "friends"
The aliens are coming to turn young into old



If you are a reasonably young person and you want to have some fun
Make sure the aliens don't capture you and attempt to eat you up
They will start at your feet, after you have a walk
And then he'll put his slimey hand to your mouth, when you start to talk
No matter how many times you relax
You can't get rid of them
Because they seem to want to push down on you, driving you f..n mad
Every time you get off your chair
Your legs are so very tired
And seeing that your under 50, there is something weird going on
You could say you are aging quicker before the rest
But I put it to laziness, you just think that it is aging
And you are ****** fine with that
But now we say, oh yeah for sure
It's the aliens that are doing the trick
They push on your feet, and put pressure on your head
And making your hands move around like crazy
And after a while your brain goes weak and you feel so hazy
You need to tell someone, yes you do, cause you have to beat them, oh yeah
Every time you think about life, you hear voices you remember
And some you want to forget and then the aliens come
And be these friends flying through the air
Leaving you with memories of being teased heavily
Then you tell then to get ******, they say na
Because these aliens are wanting to tease you
And they will do it, and then make you f..n cry
So, the aliens would
Start nibbling on your feet
And then up your leg
Pass the knee
Up toward the thigh
In the waist, and the abs as well
Toward the chest, and now up to the neck
Then after the head he has eaten you up
And then he'll spit out the hair
Because he hates that, oh yeah he does
And now he has you in his trap
You will experience aches and pains when your old
And any thought of thinking young, will leave your brain
So dudes, don't let those aliens win, be careful
You don't get too tired, just relax and beat those aliens
The aliens aren't coming no more, they're leaving
Too bad, boo hoo to you


Sent from my iPhone
some of us are bog people
we live with the snails and the maggots
making bacteria
we're suckers for substance
the dirt speaks to us
some of us are bog people
we hang with the microorganisms
making pilgrimages
we're slimey silt and silage
full-tilt and raw
the dirt wants us

dig it or dig it not
we can't help it
some of us are just bog people
spending time in a natural environment, hills, fields, mountains, sea, sky, woods, dogs, rats, , sheep, cows, horses; watching the insects and flies doing their day inspired the above............the comparisons to us humans are many.
Andra Sep 2019
june.

a year.
it's been a year since i have been a totally different person.
and i don't know if i should
thank you
or
hate you
for turning me into
this person that can't love
anymore.
this person that can't feel
anymore.
this person that doesn't care
anymore.

everything is flat and colourless.
everything is 1D now

and i miss those moments when
i felt everything so strongly that i wanted to smash my head against the walls.

i feel that now,
but out of frustration that
nothing wakes up in me.
nothing good.

only tar, mud and slimey walls.

i look in the mirror and all i can see
is a pale, skinny, vacant face.

and i pull myself
to be like before.
before you.

but she is so foreign from me
that i don't know how to get to her.
how to rediscover her.

and like this
i drag myself
from one day to the other
hoping that
tomorrow
it will be
better.

closed in a dark soundproof room
which i can't escape.

and you...
you think i'm hopping around picking flowers...
Brody Thompson Oct 2012
Who are your heroes?
What kind of spell
Do they put on you?
Better count your zeros.
Cant let something you use
Use you too.
Let me be me, and I'll be fine.
And I'll go back to the road
With laces on the line.

Which direction are you headed?
Cause it's lookin mighty low.
But if I don't lose control,
How else will I ever know?

Not enough nights
I can't remember.
Not enough ink
On my skin.
Not enough knowledge
Laid to waste.
Greeting the things
I once called sin.
Thought I knew it all,
King of the world.
Davey Jones' Locker,
Just a slimey old pearl.

All our idols
Suicidals,
In denials,
Crooked smiles.
I am allowed to say no. In fact, I have the right to say no. My body is a temple, and I get to choose who gets to access the lower regions and the inner sanctum. You do not get to choose for me. You do not get to slide your slimey hands all over my body if I say no. You do not get to touch my **** or my front if I should say so.

Yet, many do not believe that a man has as much of a right to the word no as a woman. Let me tell you ladies and gents, I have just as much of a right to use and mean the word no as a woman does. I can get *****, assaulted, abused, bruised, and hurt, emotionally, physically, and mentally too.

Do you know how hard it is to get up, to go to bed, to sleep, to live with a smile on your face, when you're  looking for the next person who might want take advantage of you. Do you know how sick it makes me feel when someone calls me attractive because that's how he tried to convince that I'm okay with what he was doing? Do you know how hard it is to not flinch when a man casually touches me. Do you know how hard it is to survive when touch was the only thing that offered me true comfort, but now gives me panic attacks?

Do you know how hard it is to survive on a day to day basis when the right to say no was unwillingly taken away. Do you know how hard it is to smile and laugh, love yourself and your life while looking around every corner, trying to identify who the next attacker is, wondering the next time you'll be the victim?

I have just as much of the right to say no as anyone else. Just because I'm a man, because I'm always supposed to want to ***, because I'm confident in myself and my sexuality, does not mean you have the right to ignore words, ignore that I. Do. Not. Want. To. Do. Anything. With. You.

So many people say that they hold no stereotypes or expectations for other people, but the society I live in expects me not to have the right to say no. So thank you everyone, those who taught others that men can't say no, to those who tried to make me conform, and to those who say nothing at all because you, you make it easier for someone to take advantage of a man who doesn't know or believe he has the right to say no.
I can feel me
******* breaking under gray skies
As I dream of red eyes
And green grass
CPT Slime and Rasta's daft laughs
And the taste of tobacco on your tongue
While I wash up in SlimeyG's kitchen

Good God, if I wasn't there, that infamous week would've been filthy!

We can feel
The bass ******* it through the sideboard
SlmieyG's lounge walls are shaking hard
And we cackle bare
When Big Gay tumbles grinning downstairs
So I stick the kettle on

Good God, we caned a litre of milk in one round of teas!

I can hear
Those slimey green dawgs singing loud
When we bring Tom's cake out
And his face is a chuffin' picture
At the realisation of the six-layers' topper
So throw him a Clipper

Good God - eighteen, eighteen, EIGHTEEN tokes to clear it!

So, will you?
Can we all get together? We'll feel alright
For just one more warm hazy night
And when we sing these songs
Of freedom, we'll laugh in peace together. So long
To misery, my brothers
Zulu Samperfas Apr 2013
At least you have a shred of a conscience, but you don't know what you've become.
You think you are my friend.  
When do we go out?  
It's too late for the drink you suddenly asked me about.
People may lie, but feelings never lie still, and when they can't be expressed
people move: eyes twitch, faster, quicker, chasing someone down who has no business knowing
anything about this
Your collaborator doesn't feel guilty, though.  
He's only afraid of being caught, ensnared
Really, he should have thought about it first
No one is supposed to be told when you are fired, so you are not supposed to
arrange for the new guy to come in and check out his new digs when you are being fired
when you are in the hell room, with the devil men, the stupid little vicious savages,
who can't make eye contact with me as they wrinkle their nose like an elephant skin and say
"it's not a good fit."  I laugh now.  
Not a good fit.  I'm sure, because they're all too small.
And I'd never let them try to fit themselves into me anyway.
Pond **** is not a good lover, or even a slimey frog.
Alas, the damsel, she doesn't want to pay for her sins so the energy
the unexpressed emotion, makes her scurry
the little princess, who has done the nasty deeds, scurries
Around and around, making herself look silly
and guilty, so guilty.
jeffrey robin Dec 2010
when the  dump becomes the battle ground

and the billionaires dress in blue jeans

****

when the slimey lawyers  pretend to know a thing

****

when manure men call themselves
your leaders

****

your stupidity is sickening

DIE

your inane fornications

your assinine fornications

your false and misleading
fornications

SICK

the dump is the battleground

you watch television

**** and DIE

**** and DIE
Sarah Mulqueen Nov 2014
I wish I could flip a switch & revert back to childhood.
So free spirited,
Attaining pure joy from the simplest of things.
The world hasn't been tainted by its evil truths,
Slimey slithery bugs being flung in your hair were the worst of your troubles.
Content with your imagination,
Everyday filled to the brim with magical forest creatures.
When did our curtain of innocence get lifted,
The older we get the more hostile and brittle the world becomes.
I dont want to be in a world where we dont get to hear the children play.
Everett street, Wooveburra


One day in the Mython town of Wooveburra, there was a working class street in the suburb of Kensworth, called Everett Street, where their lived former Mython prime minister, Jack Norridge, who was the most right wing politian around, and he only is living in the street because his rich wife took her and his money to make a better life for herself and her children in Sydney Australia and Jack was left penniless and had to apply for the age pension, and mind you he had nothing in common with any of the folk anywhere on this street, you see in one house is a family who can barely feed themselves nevertheless the luxuries they give to their kids, like paying for school camps, and Jack told them, on his day he had his second job at her and her husbands age, and yes, they tore strips of him, but them, they were doing better, which suited them fine, and there were no way they will help him through what he's going through, and in another house is Fred Gordon who was the librarian, and when he came face to face with Jack, and bare in mind when Jack was prime minister, he needed to fund his new freeway, so he nearly had the library shut, and now he's got nothing, he was in no way showing any sympathy for the man,,telling him endlessly, things like welcome to my world ****, and your not so big now, Jacky, you will be killed within 3 months, mate.
There was a young couple, what about 16 and 17 who have 2 kids and when he walked passed,,the young couple always wanted to chat to him, and they chatted about why the **** did they cut their grandmas pension, she had to stop giving us gifts, and then they called Jack a two faced slimey old cow, and Jack said, sometimes we have to cut back, then he said have a look at me, and then the couple said to him, your problems are ******* self-inflicted, our problems are just us finding a mojo that you ***** won't let us have, and then Jack was getting very nervous, and went into the pub and when he got in, it looked good, and people Said hello and when Jack asked for gin and tonic,everyone looked at him, and also one ,man said to Jack, hey are you former prime minister Jack Nortodge, and when he said yes, he laughed and he laughed at him and then punched him square on the gut,
And Jack said, I will get my lawyer onto you all partiers, in my day we all did an honest days work, none of this few drinker happy hours like you guys get, and then one drinker said, well in your day when everyone did a honest days work, does that make you different to the world, cause you haven't done an honest days work ever, so ******* right wing fascioust, and Jack left to go home seeing people throwing thier fists at him, as well as sticking their fingers at him, and then Jack said, I am going nowhere, so get used to me Everett Street, I am here to stay, and every resident yelled out, but our towns heritage won't be, you'll turn this street into Las Vegas, if we give you half the ****** chance, and then Jack went inside and all the residents went to the pub and tell of all things that Jack has done wrong for the country of Myth, and everyone hated him with a passion,,and that's what happened on Everett street this week, I hope you enjoyed it.


Sent from my iPhone
betterdays Sep 2014
seventeen slimey slugs,
lay drunk and dying,
in the beer bath.
but not before,
their skullduggery,
had been done,in amongst the lettuce and silverbeet.
now made lacework,
by the snipping of slug teeth.
jeffrey robin Jun 2010
and in the summer sun
murdered
by the new world order

the beach
oil ****

poison and death
and liars and pig-men

do not bother to hope
do not bother to dream

gather together
or die like dogs
in the slimey streets
Giuseppe Stokes Oct 2017
When the sun took a day off and the moon stood still
the clouds between them sought each other out for the deal, for real ya feel,
And when that scattered cache of semiotic deepness caught the speal,
it descended in it's gutter thoughts to slander sandy meal.

For if the sun had crashed and burned beyond Ra's power of affect,
it's Das EFX who've got to worry 'bowt that water at their neck;
For when dependent on the flowing of a deeper sense of being
we-in seeing fleeting selves diminish sprecht to dense ennui-ing.

Now the sun, my little homie, fudged right up the garden path,
and left that voyeuristic moon to mock eroded sand, and crass
his laugh a glutton's guttural injection, direct unto the scene.
It sounded callous, sounded violent, sounded object-able-y mean,

but yet the philanderers of flour, and the sorcerers of sauce,
course quite dour in this hour of recourse without remorse
rhetorting 'power captures power, and ostentious is the source'
the sun had forced my force to cower, not devour but endorse.

And so I showered in the grave held views of people passing by
as each took turn to point the lack of sun to my permissing eye,
dismissing why my thought might not rely on their own petty voice.
Rejoice I did when Moon knocked twice on mic, and made that awesome choice:

(he said)

"In stead I sit, ponder, perceive, provok-atate
'preventive' measures that you floundering and feeble fools debate;
I see expletive ridden arguments in punch ups cross the land
and yet the verbal aspect of your balk, is missing today's stand;

So all you shedy modes of being that eek discretely underneath
you better sort your petty shed out, before you compound with this wreath,
and let me warn you with this warning, yo I spoke to him (the Sun),
and he claims to think you slimey fudgers need a day to come undone.

gasps Come undone? gasps Undone? gasps you know that can't be fun!
And yet that Sun would shun his lesser selves to grasp at morbid stun,
and stun us all, beyond an instant, or an instance, with persistence.
No embellishment is needed, for we needed Sun to seeded

up this planet, without ballot, from the other heaven voices;
Now our choice's left our solar system's mother no rejoices,
and so the male figured mother (our gender knows eternal truth)
has chosen to reside with nether thoughts, and nihilistic proof,

He's like a ****** little teenager, reading up on Nietzche
who beseech ya for some aphoristic pleasure, please! Discreet ya
be when dealing with this kind of mess, solipsism can spread
and dread the narcissistic modes of thinking it can sole entread.

So don't equate power to will, and set to truthful being.
Or I'll hawk you out as wasted breath, some 02 needing freeing,
staining up the wall, that phishing contest,'ll never hold your thought
to any standard, 'cause my standard flies inside your whiny fort.

Banded meaning will not help you, claiming relativity too,
just makes you seem to be someone who seeks to level off the crew,
perhaps it aids you in allowing yourself certainty of fact
because if universal truth is true, your opinions deffo whack."

Then the mic was dropped, so by the moon, plummeting towards the earth
and the winds picked up the fast track run of rappers of every single birth.
Without rehearse they ran to grab the mic, and unified their form
but alas the mic was Toronto wide, and burning like the Sun.
Inspired by 'Freestyle Fellowship's: When the Sun took a day off and the Moon stood still'.
jeffrey robin Jun 2010
and  who now shall say
and as the magic dies

but courage lives
and my heart

and the rage that is real
sees thru the lies

of the slimey ugly people
who rule the world

and i'll be here
as always

and the true power
and the true man

and love
and hate
Madeysin Apr 2015
I'm not sure what I'd bring to the table at the end. His hair slicked back with malice and bad intent, the slimey words spoken into my ear at night,"daddy issues".  My lord loves me. I don't have daddy issues!!! I HAVE ISSUES WITH DADDY. Get it straight brain, give me a break.
Big Virge Oct 2020
Bob Marley Made A Track...
That Done Explain THE FACTS... !!!

About THOSE Wearing... " Caps " …
Where IGNORANCE Makes STANDS … !!!!!

Secrets … Weakness …
BLATANT... HATRED …
RABID … Vapid …
Heads YES … VACANT … !!!

But For … The Cap …
That SHOWS Their Hand … !!!!!

ENEMIES … " Friendly " … ?!?
Thought Waves DEADLY … !!!

In Fact They Readily …
Move … UnsteadilY... !!!!!

From Girls To Guys …
They Wear THOSE Smiles … !!!
That Give You Signs … !!!
About Their GREEN Miles … !!!

Some CUT Themselves … !!!!!
For Their PAIN To Quell … ?!?

These Types AREN'T WELL … !!!!!!!
And Have Heads That SWELL … !!!!!!!!

So Their Cap's BIG … !!!
And Encompasses Things …
That HURT Their Heads … !!!!!

LIKE … Basic Sense... !!!

Others Wear Caps ….
That Leave Them TRAPPED … !!!

Kinda Like... " Homeland " …

"Which man am I ?
Wasn't I a good guy ?
I seem to have lied,
to myself for some time !
I feel as if I, am losing,
My Mind !"

NO CAP For Them … !!!
I Think... Jackets INSTEAD … !!!!!
Before Their PROBLEMS …
Cause Somebodies' DEATH … !!!!!

I Now Wear A CROWN … !!!!!!
So Throw Caps Around … !!!!!
To See Who Is DOWN …
And Who Starts To Frown …

When My Words Start To DROWN …
The Sounds of These CLOWNS … !!!

Who YES … Wear Hats …
On … CIRCUS Grounds …
Or Basically... CAPS … !!!

Stay With Me Now … !!!!
And DON'T Drift AWAY...............................  

The Point That I Make …
Is Bob's Words Work TODAY … !!!

... New Age FAKES …. !!!
ALWAYS Trying to Play …
That They're … HUMANE... !!!
When They Move Like SNAKES … !!!

Spitting VENOM …. !!!
... ******* Blood ….. !!!!!!
Did I Mention … ?
... They're NO FUN … !!!!!

SLIMEY Movers … !!!!!
Caps For SHOOTERS …

Macks And GATS …
That Should Be CAPPED … !!!

But The Caps Most Wear …
Are … LESS Prepared …
For Words I Share …
That QUICKLY SNARE … !!!

Their … "Hidden Agendas" … ?!?
... Chicas And Fellas …
End Up Like MARCELLUS … !!!

LOCKED In DARKENED Cellars … !!!

CELLARS … of The MIND...
Where ALL They Remember...
Are Lines I've Designed … !!!

That … OPEN Their Eyes …
To What They DENY … !!!

Their FALLACY Worlds …
ESPECIALLY GIRLS … !!!
Who Now Seem To Prefer …
To Take Turns To Get...
...... BURNED ….. ?!!!?

When MEN DON'T Wear CAPS … !!!
Or What Some Call … " HATS " …

And Then Leave Them SPURNED …
When CLEARLY They YEARN …
For Them To … RETURN … !!!!!

I've Said It BEFORE … !!!
So I'll Say It AGAIN ….. !!!

Some Women Are ****** …
For … RABID Type Men … !!!

But Wear DIFFERENT Caps … ?
When Meeting REAL MAN … !?!

They Put Up … " An Act " …
And QUICKLY... RETRACT … !!!

I Used To Wonder WHY … ?
But Now I Recognise …
That Many Are NEEDY …
And DON'T Have STRONG MINDS … !!!

Especially THOSE … !!!
Who Have STRONG BEHINDS … !!!

That's Why They Like Guys …
Who DON'T Treat Them Nice … !?!

Because It Feels RIGHT … ?
To See That BLACK EYES...
And Their CHEATING Styles …
Comply With Their Vibe …
of Living … IN DENIAL … ?!?

… A CAP I DON'T WEAR … !!!
Cos' I'm NO LONGER SCARED … !!!
To Deal With … The TRUTH … !!!

DON'T Lie Down With Dogs …
Then They Cannot BITE YOU … !!!!!

YES ….. !!!
  
"Who Jah Bless, no man curse !
So, why are my brothers
wearing caps that, hurt !?!"

Cos' Their Heads Are TOO BIG … !!!
For Their Caps To Now FIT … !!!!!

No Wonder They're TRIGGERED … !!!
To Act Like … Go Figure … ?!?

Such Words I Now CAP …. !!!!!
Like … Financial Plans … !!!!!!

If It FITS You Should Wear It … !!!
Like … "Closet Racists" … !!!!!

Who THINK That They're Slick …
UNTIL Lyrics HIT …
The Spot That Gets HOT … !!!
Right UNDER Their Skin … !!!

And Under Their Collars … !!!
Til' They Start To HOLLA' … !!!!!

For MERCY That's WORTHY …  
of These ***** GIRLIES … !!!!!
When Men REMOVE Thongs...
And HIT Their... G Spots … !!!

So Their Caps Get A LICK  ...
of Their WET Juicy Lips … !!!!!

But DON'T Get CAUGHT In … !!!
The Web That They SPIN … !!!!!

Now Of Course Some ARE COOL … !!!!!
But … DON'T Be A FOOL … !!!

Spiders Spin Webs …
Where Insects Get TRAPPED … !!!

Just Like This POEM …
That Maps PAST These Traps.....

For Those Who FACE FACTS …
And Wear RIGHTEOUS Hats … !!!!!

Unlike THOSE Who Have HOLES …
That EXPOSE How They Roll … !!!!!!!

Who KEEP Throwing It Back …

When They KNOW IT'S … !!!

…. " THEIR CAP " ….
Inspired by, Who The Cap Fits, by Bob Marley .....
Genevieve Apr 2016
Some things are better left unsaid.
Some secrets are better left untold.

It's the nasty, sticky, slimey truths that we bury
That come at us like serpents with our names on their tongues
The ones that reveal the true character of those we love
The ones that make our beloveds ugly in our eyes

What have we done?
Are there any bridges left that we haven't burned?
What have you done, love?

What Have You Done?
Naivety or deception? Truth or lies? Where was the line crossed, and, ****, where was the ******* line even at? What have we done?
M G Hsieh Jun 2016
i've never been without you, neither
have i felt any real need for you.
you were someone that was there,
you made living (dying?) more comfortable.


then, there was the time that i wanted you. so much
to have you, prove i could have you,
say you're not a big deal. that was the time
i was so angry for not having you,
not being able to get you, not being able to prove
what you are or are not.


i hated you. what it meant not having you.

i can still taste that hatred sometimes.
it tastes like fat. like oil.
deep fried
satisfying
it hits my stomach
absorbs into the intestines
inches its way to those places
separating organs from each other
then seeps to that fine fine space
just under the skin

it sits there, i can't get rid of it
but i want more
that slick, slimey feel on my lips
taste buds tingling for release
until i'm not sure who's devouring what.



i haven't a stitch of you left with me now
im a liar and a thief
and even i being me
wouldn't trust myself if i were someone else.
why should you



a strange thing
to be free with nothing
not even a calculated expectation

outside
everyone despises that

but the taste of it
is like sweet water.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2022
I.

i promised myself yesterday night to write
what needed to be written and just leave it,
not bother bypassing the 502 Bad Gateway Error message,
to simply not publish... i promised myself
this for several reasons: i knew that Malvina
(the toddler, the one year old) was coming
with her mommy who was going
to do my mother's nails and toenails,

i wanted to be fresh for babysitting duties...
alas... i woke up at about half past 5am and lay
in bed listening to music...
waited until 8am to call my doctor's surgery
to book an appointment...
i almost lost it: these little Hitlers of receptionists
did my head in... first it was impossible to phone in...

then i was 12th in the queue...
i started doodling to calm down...
i finally managed to get through:
i'd like to book an appointment... what for?
oh... a follow-up appointment...
the receptionist replied: we don't do follow-up appointments,
you have to come in for that... what?!
i called in yesterday and i was told
i can't come in and have to phone in! no...
you... listen... listen... i need to book an appointment!

you're not gatekeepers to the medical professionals,
i know that general practitioners are merely bureucrats...
but it has been 2 years since i've seen a doctor's face!
i had enough at this point...
i played a little game with her...
she was going to listen to me...
what are your symptoms? she asked...
listen... i'm: PSYCHOTIC...
for a while i was considered a schizophrenic,
but i bewildered one psychiatrists when i told her
that i experienced auditory hallucinations in two languages:

obviously i didn't: i only experienced auditory hallucinations
in English... that's how i overcame schizophrenic symptoms
in my 20s using two languages...
oddly enough these symptoms diminished...
disappeared... you can't hallucinate in two languages:
the English aspect of my ontology is both the more
creative and at the same time the most sick...
then again: creative?

my ****** side is more creative... i use English as a veneer...  
i told her straight out-right: i'm psychotic...
what followed was a quick arrangement for me
to see a doctor this very day... 4:20pm...
i had all the time in the world...
but i was waiting for Malvina...
by 9am my mother received a message that the manicurist /
pedicurist couldn't make it today...

she wasn't feeling well... could she come tomorrow?
i was planning for something like this...
**** two birds with one stone... well...
i was hoping to **** three with one today...
guess i would have to **** two today and two tomorrow...

well... three tomorrow... the day started with me
shuffling about the house: putting on the washing...
i have to admit: i rarely drink in the morning:
i have this ancient motto: gentlemen do not drink
in the morning... but i knew i needed something extra
to deal with receptionists...

i drank two Sols with lime and waited for a good
mood to come... a good mood came...
now i can talk... i started sipping the remaining
whiskey from the previous night:
i need to gear up for this sort of "conversation":
i'm pretty sure that if i mention i'm psychotic
i'll get what i really want, what i really want...
a ******* appointment!

these poems? they're "state sponsored": i'm currently
receiving Employment and Support Allowance...
which is... £120 weekly...
i pour that money into a translation of a diet
of helping my parents with food...
with buying whiskey, with buying cigarettes...
that goes into one account...
i set up a separate account for the money i earn...
i am legally obliged to not work more than
16 hours a week if i'm to still retain the state benefits...
and the money i earn?
it goes to the usual expenses... travel money,
lunch money, work clothes,
the Turkish barber, the female hairdresser...
PROSTITUTES...
that's why i wanted to earn money to begin with:
to calm my libido: i'm only earning money
to spend them on prostitutes: they can do all the pointless
spending in my place...

so the day started well enough: i was tipsy-happy
waiting for babysitting duties: tomorrow, tomorrow...
but while dearest mother looked at her Norman Bates
baiting a reciptionist with his final straw:
i'm psychotic... we talked about several important
things... me and my father's trip to Poland for
All Saints' Day to pay respect to the dead...
esp. grandfather...
come afternoon, finally! tickets booked!
we're flying into Cracow and flying out of Cracow!
finally! back to Cracow!
i never believed Warsaw to be the capital of Poland...
i'm old school... Cracow is still the same old capital
of old... i'm a feral creature in Warsaw...
but in Cracow i'm calm... ancient... grounded...

just like any Hebrew might say:
Tel Aviv is not the capital of Israel... Israel: he who struggles
with God... Jerusalem is the capital of something
more essential than Eva Braun and Adolf's project
of Israel... of moving so many Hebrews back into
the Levant...

i put on the first washing... mother was leaving for a session
in the gym...
i already booked my appointment with the doctor...
what to do? what to do?
last time i ****** Khedra she complained that
my moustache and beard were untidy: unfriendly...
i couldn't agree more...
you need the lips to be naked when kissing...
so? i cycled to my favourite Turkish barber...
i cycled up to the shop on my Rolls Royce of a Merlin 5
TREK... just about to chain it up to the fence...
the barber hollered at me... hey! bring it in!

i bring it into the shop: listen... i need to get something
from Tesco, do you mind? no no...
so i walk out of the backdoor reserved for
employees... walk in... pick up sustenance of whiskey
and Pepsi... only yesterday i drew out £200 from my
work bank-account... today i drew out £200 more....
finally! my debt to my mother is about to be paid
(i slapped the last £200 into her hand when we
got home)

i'm still left with enough work-money to spend
on prostitutes....
i went back to the barber shop and told my man:
trim it... keep it long: but if it's really thin after a while?
trim the hell away... i might as well have a shorter
but a bushier beard...
hey presto! i closed my eyes and... per usual:
a beard trim felt just as good as a *******...
if not better...
the owner just implored me: just don't fall asleep...

back home started hanging the washing...
put on the second washing-machine's worth of clothes...
put on PMQs: Wednesday? no? might as well figure out
the new prime minister: Lizz Truss... or is it Trust?
don't know... i fell asleep for a power-nap...
woke up while she was staged...
fell asleep on the cold hard wooden floor...
woke up dazed, but not confused...
hmm! Lizzie! you're not as bad as i thought you might
be!
you're a Thatcher-itch-*****-trooper!
i like you! no... Rishi Rushi Rushu Sumac couldn't have
performed as you just did...
so calm, so... stern: so in-control...
i think she'll do... she just might do...

i just started hanging the second load of washing
on the washing line when mother "dearest" called me up:
how about lunch in the Beefeater pub?
sure... i'll just finish hanging the washing,
how long do i have? half an hour...
half an hour later: bicycles and London:
**** me! i'm... MOBILE!
a nice lunch... two lasagnes...
mine with salad and flat breads
her's with chips and flat breads...
i was drinking Pepsi she was drinking beer...
it's a date... she was paying: after all:
i was just about to cough up the remains
of my debt of £400...

                         so we ate... talked... next to us...
two beached whales of... i think they were women...
i might have been wrong...
my mother even asked me: if you weren't living at home
and i allowed myself to become that size,
would you step in and tell me: no no no, no no?!
of course i would! being that sort of size
is a health hazard! it's dangerous!
all manner of complications come with being
so obese! i wouldn't care what you think of my aesthetic
concerns: i like plump plum girls to begin with:
but with that?! we're talking a beached whale...

**** me... i explained to my mother...
the aesthetic of eating in public... you need to leave...
you need to leave at least one mouthful on your plate...
you can't! you can't empty your entire plate
in public! you need to leave a bite-ful on the plate...
you can't send a plate back to the chef: completely emtpy...
but these two women?! it's not enough that they complained
to the waitress about their food...
they ate all of it: a dog would leave a dirtier plate
that these two...
you can't do that! a man wouldn't eat as much!
i'm serious!
   a whole rack of ribs... something else something else!
some extra sausage... and then more complaints!
the sausage left a bad taste in her mouth...
so the one beached whale to the other beached whale:
might as well **** the bad taste in your mouth
with some ice-cream... oh for ****'s sake!
feed this ***** an entire starving village of Africa!
yes: cannibalism!

maybe it was watching these two women eat:
thank god i never watched them ****...
or maybe it was my second glass of Diet Coke...
my stomach... i excused myself...
walked into the bathroom... took a little ****...
wiped my ***... turned around and...
started to puke...
  in that ancient Roman rite of bulimia...
no... no ******* down my throat...
i perfected the art of bulimia...
it's a "nervous" reaction... either i drank too much
fizzy drink(s)... or i ate too much...
perhaps both... or i watched with horror two female
gluttons... one **** followed by puking...
i couldn't... keep so much in my body...
by now it's automated: it's like farting...
or *******... i can keep it in for enough of time...
but sooner or later i exercise the Exorcist fantasy...
i start puking like seagulls or birds in general
perform regurgitation when feeding their young...
i think the momentum shifted from the original
straining of the esophagus into training the diaphragm...

the throat has little to do with the "nervous": the disgust
reaction... whenever i see people over-eat...
esp. women: i summon the puke-god of... puke and the *****!
i can't help it: it's unconscious...
i never know which is better:
******* *******, *******, diarrhoea streak of ****...
or... puking... i think puking is on par taking a ****:
it's like taking a **** through your mouth...
******* and *******? well: you need a *******
for that... *******? you need ******* for the passing
of yellow water... like a woman ******* under
the shower... and ******* *******?
you need a ******* for that too...
the ******* constraints the head of the phallus:
turning it baron purple... a choke-hold of an *******...

if Nero couldn't understand the Hebrew concept of fire...
i can't understand the concept of circumcision...
seems rather pointless to rob men of the pleasure
of ******* with the sheath:
and the "unknown" pleasures of *** when unsheathed...
of the *******...

hmm... there's nothing quiet like the feel of touching,
rummaging through: thinking about on "orchestra"
of a newly trimmed beard: a beard trimmed by
a Turk... no... wait... there is... it's kin-for-kin
aligned to touching up a woman's: ****!
is that rose petals i'm fiddling with?
i wonder: then again: i have absolutely no imagination
sometimes, pretty much all the time...
i'm concerned with the notion of "seeing is believing"...

so we ate our lunch.... mother and me...
talked about All Saints' day and my and her estranged
uncle / brother... about him moving back to Poland
with a sack of gold but no cultural referential hooks
of relate-ability... me?! back in Poland?
and... talking about what?
the only "news" that reached the shores of England
were about the Smolensk disaster...
that's it! i don't know the music scene...
i don't know any universal or partoicular
x, y & z... all my childhood friends were either
in some English prison or living in Southampton...
if i'll ever go back i'll go and visit graves: revive memories:
buy cheap cigarettes...

Poland is a myth to me... like for the diaspora of Hebrews
still unwilling to move back to Israel...
i like this beard-trimmed me...
i'm ready to go to sleep, early: i can't wait for
babysitting duties tomorrow...
like i can't wait for a London Stadium Shift come
4pm... working until 22:30pm...
and then ******* off to the brothel for some:
proper food...

once upon a time i thought myself subject
to exfoliating in the werewolf totem...
then i found a wasp, then a fly...
then a hedgehog... then a fox...
then i found a crow... then an eagle of sorts...
hmm...
    then i found myself: started to pander myself...
groomed myself...
are al these "supposed" vampire so well shaven,
so well, groomed?!

sooner me touching a tarantula than me touching,
that SLIMEY... itch of... ugh!
my neighbour said: it's just a frog...
frog?! what frog?!
that's a ******* toad!
leave him be!
leave him be?!
that's a ******* toad! it's gross... it's slimy...
it's green hidden in darkness!
i don't mind touching the insects...
the locust food-stuff!

Hebrews are not renowned for being a clean
people...
so much for the Hebrew deity gobbling
the deities of Moloch and Beelzebub...
of the other Semites of the region...
they're not the most cleanliness-prone people...
toads, as... pets?!
what ever happened to the Gentile way
of fur: attracts fur?!
my reaction? i jumped back
and started to pretend to wash myself...
my hands turned into about a thousand toothpicks...
my sense of disgust was so strong it turned out
to be a reflexive-action... rather than something
encompassing time... i.e. a reflective "inaction"...

i'm aligned with the German in that sense...
perhaps this supposed "Islamic invasion"
of Europe is not that bad...
who is the mother of Islam?
who, is the mother of Islam?!
isn't she... Abraham's concubine?!
wasn't Islam born from the ***** of Abraham?
sure... it's bad because you don't get
the high-born intellectual crowd...
you get the: same-****-different-cover of any sort
of people... but perhaps... just perhaps...

you get little Pakistani men
thinking what little Pakistani men think about
when "thinking" about the collapse of the British Empire...
sure, collateral: what war is without collateral?
collateral? i'm not sure if i date a British girl, ever!
my... condolences?! my... nuisance
of a respect?! i didn't teach these girls' parents
the bogus nature of anti-racism...
i was taught: other, lessons!
oh: the lessons i was taught! i kept them on a leash:
i reimagined them as dogs and me the dog-walker...

the afternoon finished off amiciably enough...
i finished off my Korean-style slow-cooked pulled pork...
with some sticky rice and an all green salad...
the green salad? lettuce, spring onions...
green chilly, green pepper, cucumber,
fresh coriander, lime zest... lime juice...
and an avocado dressing... perfection...

the Korean-style pulled pork? secrets are secrets...
me and "mother" already had our share...
our neighbour came in: a proselyte Hebrew to the faith
of Ishmael... (i.e. Islam)
from a terrible holiday... she talked: i complained:
that's no frog! that's a toad! blah blah...
while serving my father his dinner he was eating alone...
i thickened the sauce with some corn-starch...

oh: all these Albanian banana-boat men...
me and England...
me... and England... what a spastic-mr-fantastic:
special relationship i have with her...
it's so: special... it's ultimately special:
the double standards she has employed with her
anti-racist thesis...
me? i'm taking the side of the Russians...
why? like the Russians... being European:
i would abhor to be constantly demonised!

of course i'll be siding with the people that do not:

spielen ein spiel von schlechtgrammatik
      (play a game of bad-grammar)
at least the Russians respect language!
mindestens die Russen hinsicht sprache!
not this, English-inborn cosmopolitan growth
of: pilzintellekt (fungus-intellect):
*******... pilzüberschuss: kamelbuckel...
auswuchs von ein affen arschloch!

     fungus excess: camel ****...
outgrowth from a monkey's *******!

English men and their: stupendous "observations":
must have accomplished most of them
not being invaded: over... cricket...
wait a minute: wait a minute:
why am i siding with the Zeppelin brigade
of insomniacs?
there must be a, reason...

perhaps i'm seeing the English language like i'm
seeing the toad for the first time?
i'm itchy... i don't want to touch the **** thing...
i want to **** the Romanian prostitutes because?
the English girls favoured the Pakistani men...

these people don't even know what being
conquered equates to...
they are a people so lazy the best they equate
conquest to is: conquest by being sub-dued...
i can't help you there...

of point of interest... what's the combatitive position
of looting a train for its worth of time...
when commuting?
hmm...
Satan "vs." Catiline ...

the Dirt-bag - John Milton - the Toast -
  how are the arms positioned?
almost... identical...
    
II.

i'm sometimes fond of being reminded that i'm not English,
i get lost in the fact that i predominantly write in English,
why? if i had an easier access to the diacritical marks
in my mother's tongue i think i'd write more in my mother's
(well, and father's, well... in my own) tongue...
after all... i'm unlike like all these Asian "English"...
these African "English"...
i'm my own version of English... i'm my own English...
i'm not going to allow the natives to dictate what
being English is all about... i'm going to show what
the "new" English is: without a curry house, without a mosque...
without wearing pajamas in public...
i have three tattoos in my psyche: nope... it's not
about the Battle of Hastings:
i'm an Anglo-Slav...
i have my dates too...

i'm a first generation immigrant: i don't have to
boast or bemoan any fact that my parents didn't retain
the native tongue when i was growing up...
i've learned a few tricks in an unwritten book
of migration... me? i remember the death of Princess
Diana really clearly... the Home Office officers
were knocking on our door on Coventry Street in Ilford
that pretty morning when news filtered through
that Diana was dead...
the night before i was rolling ***** into holes
winning my mother a giant cuddly red dog toy...
i was in a mood to win ****... i was beating adults...
rolling those ***** into holes and roles
while the adults couldn't keep up with my "camel"
above on the bypass... i won that **** thing:
went on some magical ride that started off horizontally
spinning then turned into a vertical spinning demon...
next day was amazing though...
the Home Office officers knocked on our door
with a few police officers... Osama bin Laden lives here?!

my father did a runner through the gardens...
i remember them... handcuffing him and my mother...
two of the Home Office officers checked up on me
while i was holding my cat and facing the wall...
i had a personal computer in the corner of my bedroom...
i just started high school...
he walked in and said: that's a nice computer...
i never gave anyone a DEATH-STARE before...
but i gave him one that day...
my grandfather ****** off to drink his miseries
looking for my now estranged uncle...
me? i was back home... "home": pounding the walls
with my fists until i must have grown a fifth knuckle...
crying...

it's so ******* easy these days! isn't it?!
banana boat men from Albania smuggling
Syrian children... it's so ******* easy these days...
you get a free pass in England these days because
you're olive skinned...
let's skin 'em... let's see we're all flesh and ******
underneath...
we were nicely asked to be deported back
to our homeland...
thank god this happened: if it didn't...
i don't think i could find the proper sort of cushion
of my current state of bilingualism...
i would have forgotten my ****** sprechen...
i would be doubly bitter...
             i would be the only person in the family
with an English, sort of, accent... while my parents would
be the immigrants: but i'm the immigrant too!
i wasn't born here! from what i've seen:
i'm ******* happy i wasn't!

    i see it as a welcome break... i retained my native tongue...
it allowed me to have a relationship with my grandfather
my memory will forever cherish:
i'm currently planning a journey back to Poland
to consecrate the holiness of his death by me standing
sombre above his grave for All Saints' Day:
it won't be a spectacular as that event in Mexico:
but enough candles is: enough candles...

but i can sort of understand where Jihadi John
and the Syrian Beatles came from...
despising their parents as much as their host culture...
i would to... if my parents thought:
two tongues = claustrophobia... what?!
i'd hate my parents more than my host culture...
you can't fake it... some things you can't fake...
apparently you need to be fluent in Arabic
to read the Koran proper...
it's not enough to have some tattoo in Arabic
itched onto your skin to make you: not put in
the effort...
but now? it's so easy... ooh! walking on egg-shells!
will they send these banana-boat people back
like they sent me back?

weak! WEAK!
***** ***-starry-eyed-onlookers!
if you could do that with me: why can't you do the same
with them?!
don't bother answering...
i needed the stick more than the carrot...
you're just weaklings to me: mollusks...
your former shade of what was English is...
something i **** on...
i'm always ******* on what's currently, supposedly,
"English": i just hate this capitulation and
groveling at the altar of identity politics...
sorry mate: me? now? i'm just passing through...

ah... those three dates:

1. i won't mention the battle of Liegnitz...
      but i'll mention the battle of GRUNWALD
   (15 July 1410)... no wonder i might generate alliances
in the Islamic world: the Crusades didn't just take place
in the Levant... they also happened up north...
2. 12 September 1683 - the battle for Vienna,
  when the Polacks averted the tide of the Ottomans
  against Europe
3. Miracle on the Vistula (August 12–25, 1920) -
   the first defeat of the Soviet army...
  i.e. when the Russian Soviets were unable to join
up with revolutionist Communist Germany...
because some Polacks were like: n'ah ah...

when in Russian i was schooled... who won the war?
i replied politely, drinking beer and eating dry fish...
the Russians did...
i'm still gagging to ask a question of this little dearest
punk to the liking of my heart...
and who were the only two people in the world
to have ever managed to sack Moscow?
don't know? the Polacks and Lithuanians
between 1610 and 1612 and the Mongols...
well... seriously? is history even equivalent to modern
people being preoccupied with journalism and
tabloid and fame culture of "celebrity"?
i'd rather dig into history...
   my god: i come from this stock!
no wonder "my" people didn't leave too many traces
of the written word... and unlike the English they didn't
have the leisurely time to conjure up football or cricket
or rugby... they were warring all the time...
so much for the idleness of islanders...
now? they're crippled by their idolatry of idleness and
former delusion of power and strength!

i have this theory... girls with those large ring earrings?
what do they translate as? easy flings...
plus... i've recently noticed that the men who women
choose to be mates and fathers have one necessary
aspect to them: they need to have at least one arm
in a tattoo-sleeve...
                 oh yeah... they need at least one arm in a tattoo-sleeve...
one tattoo won't save you: you need a *******
theme of tattoos all over your entire arm
to become attractive to women:
no wonder i'm joyously bitter...
like **** i'm getting my skin inked...
i have other tattoos... my brain is one giant
******* tattoo of the past!
                                            
i have seen these: POKRAKI (not disabled, morphed)
children, second generation immigrant children,
i would implore their parents to retain their mother tongue:
they didn't... these children are the ones that not only
despise the culture their parents assimilated into:
but also despise their parents...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

i found an alternative to history and mythology...
although i still place them above journalism...
there's another history that does not delve into
the speedy Gonzales history "catch-up" methodology
of Darwinism... it's called etymology and it's a history
of words: of word origins...
unlike Darwinism, which is a history of forms:
even ancient people could have told you that monkey
was: **** SIMILIS... something similar to man...
but they didn't take the arguments too seriously
even then... if they did: then all the banners of nations
would be filled with ******* macaques or gorillas...
instead? eagles, crows... lions... bears...
something to look up to...
not look down on: we're currently looking down...
we're looking at our origins and thinking aloud:
wow! we've figured it out!
like **** we have... dressed up in science and pseudo-science
and statistics: it's not that we've become
predictable: we've just become predictably boring...
self-evidential...
we have this scientific safety-net because there's this
"NORM"... this "MEAN & MEDIAN"...
the story of averages... the narrative of:
well if X is so... then i can be x in X's shadow...

before the shift started at Wembley where i would be
working level 5 for the Hawking's tribute concert:
lucky me... usually if a band does a tour there
are loads of dates... people from all over Europe travelled
to London to see this gig...
i couldn't stop smiling and giggling
when Brian Johnson came on and sand Back in Black...
i'm not too big on Paul McCartney...
so Helter Skelter would have been grand if
Charles Manson was there too...
oh sure, sure... i'm a massive fan of both (insert snigger)...

but before the shift i was asked: do you have vertigo?
me? didn't i tell you guys that i used to be a roofer
once? Wembley is peanuts' worth of height for me...
i've worked taller buildings before...
and? it's not vertigo... i have something else...
it's much worse... the feeling came back to me...
from time to time i get it when i get bored...
i have to grip something, a railing... why?
why?! ah h ha... when i'm at a certain height...
and something like a yawning gap of space
appears before me... akin to the Wembley stadium...
and i'm on high... i just have this impossible urge
to subdue of... simply running off the ledge
and jumping head first to my death...

i can't stop it... i have to play chess with my legs:
stand stiff: stand rooted you *******!
no! no! at that concert i had to check myself about
five or six times: i really wanted to jump...
i thought: wouldn't it be glorious to just free-fall
to a certain song? if they're staging a tribute concert...
after all: i am aiming for fame post-mortem...
wouldn't that be something...

hmm... my neighbour is currently on holiday....
she asked me: can you feed my cat?
yes, i can...
can you feed my water tutle?
sure... i blazed a light against the aquarium...
oh... pretty little thing... what are you eating?
dried shrimp leftovers?
no problem... swim up... catch them... as they float
on the event horizon of the water... soak up enough
water and sink to your level of "expertease"...
she then asked me: can you feed my frog,
live locusts?!
sure thing...
i shone the light into the aquarium...
jumped back! trying to brush off imaginary dust from
my body... scratching, itching...
THAT'S NOT A ******* FROG!
THAT'S A ******* TOAD!

she described it a a frog... i don't mind frogs...
i don't mind spider either...
but something that's enlarged...
i jump back...
                     i start pretending to be  a cat...
i need to wash myself...  have no soap... i have no water:
i still need to wash myself...
she said: feed my frog... it's not a frog!
it's a toad! **** you, witch!

i didn't mind the grasshoppers / locust...
i just minded that big slimy bulge of green!
yeah yeah, sure "thing": a misunderstood creature...
what the **** is wrong with a mammalian lineage?!
i thought that i had an irrational aversion toward
spiders... i don't mind spiders no bigger than any of my
fingernails... she said FROG...
what i witnessed in the shadows was a *******
TOAD:

ŻABA contra RHO-POO-HA (ropucha)
i can hold a frog in my hand...
but a toad? i'm fearful of their skin... permeating
a transit fungus onto my skin!
i don't mind feeding the **** thing
live locust insects... i'm just worried about
it's own green slimy ***!

i know i'm not English... i enjoy a: KISSEL...
it's... lukewarm jelly...
known in the eastern parts of Europe...
and as far north as Finland...
KISSEL... it's a warm jelly...
there's less concern for it being set...
it's drinkable jelly...
there's no talk of gelatin...
cornstarch... yes... cornstarch and arrowroot...
liquid jelly...
known from Finland and thoroughly in the Baltic
States... down through the Dnieper River...
of Ukraine...
the best mix-up i've ever tasted?!
banana and lemon...

i can't wait until tomorrow's visit by the BOBAS:
the BAMBINOS' visit by Malvina...
i'm already gearing up to going to sleep early...
it's almost akin to planning a visit to a brothel:
but i'm going to entertain a young child tomorrow:
that's different! i can't wait...
i need to feed this baby some leeches of having
drained some of my testosterone...
perhaps no blood: but something...

i need to make any important call tomorrow
come 8am... i need to be the baby-sitter...
i'll need to visit the Turkish barber...
wait until Thursday and then ******* to the brothel...
then... whatever.
Aimée Jan 2020
Yellow coats and squeaky shoes
Butterfly nets and umbrellas blue
These are best for hunting frogs

Quiet giggles and smiling friends
Tall water reeds and river bends
These are best for finding frogs

Slippery mud and misty rain
Grassy tumbles and many stains
These are best for catching frogs

Slimey fingers and careful grips
Awed, sweet glances and grinning lips
These are best for holding frogs

Happy tears and soft goodbyes
Brand new name and darkened sky
These are best for freeing frogs
LeRoy Williams Jun 2019
Call me ******* to your mother because I cuh-cuh-couldn't feel the trembling heat reaking havok on the in thigh stubble. Ow! **** sorry stub my toe. I'm moving slow enough to double dutch with a couple couple cookie crisp. Ishy on the in dispute. Grarly upon the laudry booth smoochie smooching on farting fairies flarping from the ex-haust.
Sorry my brain feels soft ffrom the rock salt. Hoochie snoochie snooting snorks slimey nap-cloth. Froze from the several palms second had palsy freezing in the eager eggnog. Ice over sire's searing sultry silken sick souly sullen franklin flame Bob. Billy will wally dilly Dally caught a fifty fatty rattle ****** daddy daddy daddy daddy, Fat Father igloos freak me father freak me father freak me father Im chuching my maugwa. Ma saws my mucho munched muddy crusty killer toes rain, *****? Are you hearing me gravel up your ****** hairs hurting from the rusty ****** clamps. I'm krusty crab freaking funk got me wondering why? okay wize guy wicked wonder wall watch my quest for questioning Ghostface Killah. I'm Slaid Cosby I ****** your daugher younger than the fury from you first tooth.
I wish you spat my drizzle from the furry foster the kids frontporch pistol grip.

Hop scotch?
Mary Gay Kearns Apr 2018
That edge of the sea feeling
Barefoot where the sand slops heavy
And popping seaweed drapes knots
Slimey, slippery ribbons drifting
Along with our feet.
Stubbed toes bruise on rocks
And that sudden extra wave
Surprises, chasing knees
And thighs with bubbles.
Sun splinters through spray drops
Brown to golden streaks
Collect in our hair and eyebrows
As the evening slips
Into still waters
And we return home .

Love Mary ***
Totland **
Charles Sturies Jan 2018
Dudes who think they're cool
studs and *** symbols who are
slimey and adenoid cases
Non-combat vets who they're
combat vets.
Followers who think they're
leaders.
People who have delusions of
grandeur.
There're other people
who are way better.
Some of the shady looking
people in politics today.
People faking eccentricity
because the think it's going to
get 'em a better deal medically
you know,
We say the all-round man
symptoms where guys think they're
a combination of John Wayne and
Jimmy Dean with shades of
Vincent Van Gogh thrown in
Relevent gay people who imagine
their lives to be perfect
Certain plastic TV shows being in
fashion as well as kinda tacky food.
-Charles Sturies
Nick Stiltner Jan 2019
Shattered glass
The Fallen, the other path
Gathered moss
It’s overdue
Slippery and slimey
But coated, wined in
Shining shining
shimmering substance
But they know me
It has to look like this
I keep moving forward
With mushed moss
And over growth
At my boots
And treetop
Clouded lights
For my eyes

— The End —