"slogan" poems
Allah created the universe
With plenty of beauties
And entities
Eid being a marvel
In His creation.
Its a jubilee a jamboree
Islam golden moments.
Laughter smiles joy
Foods delicacies cuisines
Visits greetings hugs
All in this finicky day
Commemorates agitation
In our islamic entity.
Its surely a jubilee.
Eid a cheerful day
Eid be the morning star
The star that shines,
That shines in a shiny
Shining cloud
Dont you admire this?
Dont you?
I suppose it to be a jamboree.
Eid is here
Embracing do not fear
Eid is a pearl
In the shells of oyster
Rise up and liberate
Jump and hail
'Eid Mubarak'
Eid indeed a regal day
All this is ours
Ours for the taking
Ours for the loving
Ours for adorning
Amid our pride and passion
We shall slogan ourselves
'Eid Mubarak'
Eid a sheen,
Deactivate all forms of sins
Attained in all sorts of scenes
Satisfaction let it be seen
I admit that we do all sheen,
Caution we be keen.
A jamboree I incarnate.
Eid an endeavour
Allah put up this favour
Exquisite and dainty forever
This majestic day never shover
Blessings absolutely covers
Its a jubilee a jamboree
Islam sparkling moments.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
Ceramic white, wood richly brown
Smooth liquid....touching buds of taste
Lips chasing chatter, slithering slogan sentences
Arm reaching, lift off, exposing the pit, selecting
Combination to the gestured shape, proposing
Enlivening, trickling conversation tripping
To my left. A phone, pressing snugly, ear
Tuned up, alerted, filtering the microwave
Throng. With welcome warmth, thaw began
Icy film packaging a heart temporarily beat
Free, playing, fraternising.....roulette with Russia
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
The Saga of battle face off between Arjuna & Karna.
Karna gets the Naga ashtra from the Lord Brahma.
The Naga ashtra arrow is set to hit the target without miss.
Arjun Chariot is Guided by Lord Krishna.
Arjun & Karna face to battle for the survival for the supremacy
Battle of best in the Kurukshetra between karna & Arjun
Arjun is know as the Best in the Bow.
But while the situation is different with karna with Naga Ashtra arrow.
Force of Arrow from bow making huge noise of impact in the wind.
With every arrow from bow of both are hitting in the mid air & collapsing
Karna lefts the Arrow of Naga ashtra & prays the Slogan to be effective
Arjun no answer to the arrow of Naga
Keeps quite & focus towards Lord Krishna
Lord krishna smiling replies to bow
Arjuna replies with angry Iam an Hero & can face with my Bow.
Karna with Big laughter speeds the Arrow of Naga towards Arjun.
The Naga Ashtra is a Destruction weapon in the world.
Naga Ashtra targets the Head of the Arjuna
Lord Krishna pushes the chariot by his thumb towards down earth
Arrow of Naga is straight towards Arjuna Head.
Lord Krishna Commands to bow the head down
Arjuna does so the arrow is supposed to hit the head with out miss.
Arrow is will not stop without hitting head.
Karana is eager to celebrate the Victory of best in Kurushetra
Lord Krishna hears the sound of hitting head
& Turns to see the What happened?
Lord Krishna says yes the arrow hit the head
Arjuna replies Lord Iam safe
According to Shastra Naga Ashtra hit the Head of Chariot
Karana will not able to reuse the Ashtra of Naga
as it has hit the Head of Chariot.
By this Arjuna Leaps wider angle to arrow the Bow
& the Bow lands on Karana chest.
The Battle of Big is won by Arjun in the period of Kurushetra.
Yours
Shankar Pattabi
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
Avuncular in his style, jolly and loud
An epiphany with an entourage
Of functionaries who survey the crowd
For any lack of enthusiasm
Applaud they must, wearing upon command
Cheap slogan tees averring that their school
Is like totally awesome and ‘way cool
They leap and bounce and cheer as they are told
Chanting a theme, this year’s predictable theme
Desperately cute, a motivational meme -
Oh, those childish, subservient creatures!
The worst part is that they are the
teachers
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Ang mensahe ko sa pamahalaan,
Pakiusap wag niyo kaming gulangan
Pagkat di naman kayo dayuhan,
Para magkaroon ng pusong gahaman
Huwag niyo sanang ibulsa ang pondo
Na pagmamay - ari naming mga pilipino
Pagkat pinaghirapan namin ito,
Dugo't pawis puhunan diyan,para may maibayad sa inyo
Ano ang silbi ng mga slogan
at mungkahi nihong patakaran
Noong nakaraang halalan?
Yun ba ay agad nakalimutan?
Di ba't marami kayong pangako
Na sabi niyo'y di mapapako?
Nasaan na ang mga ito?
Naglaho ba kasama ng bagyo?
Nasaan na ang inyong sinasabi
Na bukambibig niyo palagi
"Kung walang kurap,walang mahirap"
Nakalimutan niyo ba sa isang iglap?
Ito pa nga ang isa,
Tila mas maganda sa nauna
"Ang tuwid na daan"
Eh puro liko naman ang nasa pamahalaan!
Alam niyo di dapat pilipino
Ang itawag sa mga tulad niyo
Pagkat kayo'y may pusong dayo
Pawang mga gahaman at tuso
Para kayong espanyol na dayuhan,
Kinakamkam ang aming pinaghirapan
mababait lang kapag may kailangan
Lalong - lalo na sa araw ng halalan
Pwede rin kayong maging amerikano
Mayaman nga,panot naman ang ulo
Maaari ring maging hapon,
Na nagpasakit nang ating kahapon
Bakit ko ito sinasabi?
Para malaman niyo ang mali,
Baka sakaling kayo'y magbago,
Para pilipinas,mag-iba ang takbo
Wala sanang tamaan dito sa nilalaman,
Pagkat ito ay karapatan:
Ang maipahayag ang nilalaman,
Nitong damdamin ko at isipan..
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Feel the strengths of vein that hold the whole of your neck!
A life of loose you live on believe
A hope, a Faith even when you barely know a god.
****** juz be like:#OluwaIsInvolved
Your father owns an Estate, even a country built in Gold
The #Street remains a #Paradise
You'll wanna go, even if you have to be named #Devil
You drop your #Pride like it never mattered
To gather a better world
Where you'd be worshiped as #Boss
You chase a #Bigger dream that the oldest in your family won't dare.
Rub-in all pains that attaining #LandNeverPromised would wanna bear
You #Focus , patiently hoping for what is never #Certained
You #Beg your 'Luck' more than the rate you beg your #God
To meet the #One that would bring you the #PayDay of no accountable #Duty
#Legitimacy becomes the most irritating Slogan you'll Cause your brethren that ever utters.
Authority, a #Foe that would stop you from dressing #TooLoud,
Anything you ever #Wished links way back to #Money
#MoneyMustBeMade the only #Pledge that keeps echoing in your brain
A #Brain that works only to unlawfully take from the token of a #Brother
With the #Vengeance-filled mind of eradicating Poverty that denied you of a better #Background,
When you have a #PayDay, you still long for a million more
In a better fold that could last you many more #Lifetime
Then, you pick back the #Pride you allayed for a while so #Long
Now reflect that part of you.
That part, you rebuked a #RichYoungDude earlier on for
Or the #Angelic one you would ever love a #Philanthropist for
Remain on the #LowestKey for 'a now's ' while
To be at the #HighestKey, even under the deepest ground
And keep your #Brain more opened than #YourEyes
While you make the only thing that keep you going as #GodBlessTheHustle
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
Long ago, on my
unpatriotic ways,
with anger patriots
turned ablaze.
They ill-treated me
with words of abuse,
even classes on patriotism
was of no use.
One day patriotic
tonic I drank.
It made all the difference,
to be frank.
Now professor of patriotism
I've become.
To hear my lectures
many patriots come.
And before my patriotism inspires
enemies of North and West
and before my nationalism
they easily bear and digest
and before Chinese
people of the North
have understood my
patriotic lecture's worth
and before their Olympians
represent Nation of mine
and before we get medals
in abundance this time
and before Pakistanis
decide to turn traitors at once,
inspired by my patriotic views
and my eloquence
and before Indians use golden
words for me to describe
and before my name
in history they inscribe
and before people start
giving me much respect
and before my big and
large statues they *****
and before my replicas
and dolls are put on sale
and before I start competing with
likes of Gandhi and Patel
and before this poetry
becomes too patriotic to comprehend
with slogan 'Jai Hind ' this patriotic
poetry must come to an end.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
High on the O2:
Red Rossopomodoro, Wagamama,
and on the bus shelter, Marc Jacobs,
and again higher,
Habitat,
then Metroline moves past.
It's the 113
to Oxford Circus,
and the 13 to Victoria:
Thrilla Lives On,
shouts the slogan,
while National Express has
All Set For Take-Off.
They're gone...
It calms
empties,
nothing much
just the red lidless eyes
of cars
two, three, four dozen pairs
hover
over the asphalt road.
Where...
where am I?
Ahhh, yeah,
in the Oriental Star,
the road seen from a table and stool,
waiting
for food.
Where have I hailed from?
My lover's womb.
No, no
NOT THAT!
The North Star, yes:
A pub on the Finchley Road,
Where Tottenham beat Liverpool 4-1
A pyrrhic victory!
Over a couple of beers.
Warm years, and tears.
A sense of place,
a home, a nest,
Receding in the traffic
Of a busy road,
Waiting on noodles.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 6:15 PM UTC
The Great Debate started,
Parliament was the open forest,
electors were divided into two groups—
Sir Fox's, and
The Lion's,
The first group wanted to overthrow the Lion
from the sovereign head of the forest,
It was a tough job to confront Lion directly,
So, Sir Fox, appointed a Monkey as the Chief campaigner,
and that monkey appointed other monkeys in the business,
Scaring them with a story of vanishing trees, and living on
the land increases the mortality rate if Lion Party continues.
Monkey, the chief campaigner exclaimed,
“We are not living in the rule of law but in the rule of Lion,
All are equal, but the continuous target of a particular community,
Like a beautiful deer, by another community in majority
should be banned, Deers bring historic and aesthetic
significance to the forest
And need to be treated as the same,”
Deers bellowed gleefully hearing this.
Cows felt hurt,
their exclusion from Monkey’s speech
proved to be a setback to the Fox’s Party,
Cows were the most targeted community
by the Carnivores, everyone in the forest knew,
Potential voters were lost to Lion’s Party.
Polarising speeches of Chief continued,
It brought Rhinoceros to its side,
Seeing rhino in political rallies,
Hippopotamus chipped in,
To counter the increasing weight
Political advisor of Lion, i.e, Tiger,
persuaded Elephant to become an official
member of their party.
Hate speeches increased in numbers
Giraffe, the bearer and upholder of law,
Overlooked everything,
the long neck looked tilted towards
an ideology.
Rumours became truth,
truth became rumour
Monkey was good in it,
And an army of monkeys were excellent.
Parrots, Pigeons, Peacock,
**** Cuckoo, Cat,
Loved the importance they got,
Disseminated the Fox loving songs.
The listeners felt threatened,
They had an enemy living between them
and they were considering them friends,
They thanked the Parrot, Pigeon, Peacock
for pointing them out.
Now, biped hated quadruped,
Quadruped hated reptiles,
Reptiles did the same to amphibians,
And in this way the whole animal kingdom
danced in chaos,
The fiery speeches of Sir Fox helped
in creating illusion,
The slogan of the Man as a common enemy
was changed to, Feline as a common enemy,
Felines joined Sir Fox’s Party,
And Canines ran to Lion’s Party,
Obvious was difficult to observe
Obscure was easy to see.
to be continued
Oct 23, 2021
Oct 23, 2021 at 3:22 PM UTC
I hate how some humans
Take religion as a barbican
To hide their devil moan
Making people believe on them
With I-Love-God as a slogan
Little did people know
That these humans give satan their vow
Every single day, every single night
Considering satan as partner of candlelight
Fulfilling satan’s needs
With gestures of evil deeds
But are not judged by people
Cause they have religious eye-lids.
Their hearts are rotten like scorn flesh
Disgusting as maggots die consuming that trash
Their minds are undoubtly abnoxious
Visualizing how to make world hideous
They utilize pious mannequin
And hide their monstrous beings
Yes these creatures exist on earth
Whom cause pre-armageddon to burst.
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Bus-riding, crumb-counting hand wringers
Bibble-babbler, channel-flipper slogan slingers
Keep the volume loud enough to drown out the machines
That fill their cupped hands daily with excrement and dreams
These are the ****** of the canon
Button-pushing, lever-pulling product users
Wife-buying, tax-paying alcohol abusers
Emasculated monkeys done up in black and white
Clock in in the morning and flock home late at night
These are the ****** of the canon
Train-conducting, ring-leading hand shakers
String-fingered, queue-cutting, man makers
Drive home, cursing, lonely, breaking bones beneath their wheels
Without the time to diagnose that emptiness they feel
These are the ****** of the canon
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
When the funding is cut
So the hospitals shut
That’s a Tory
When the poverty bites
And you lose human rights
That’s a Tory
Such excess
Better reassess
Better repossess
Better get yourself private healthcare
Overtaxed if you work
Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare
When there’s bigoted views
Blatant lies on the news
That’s a Tory
When the biggest and best
Are too rich to arrest
That’s a Tory
But they’re lax
Covering the cracks
Never paying tax
Claiming everything on expenses
They can steal with a smile
While they peddle their flimsy defences
When they're guilty of fraud
And they're banking abroad
That's a Tory
If they're selling your school
When 'austere' means 'cruel'
That's a Tory
Too much spin
Slogan and a grin
Wearing pretty thin
Bussing people in to applaud them
Any law can be bought
If you're well off enough to afford them
That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy
**
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
Sharp tongues do damage quicker than blade could manage.
Deeply scaring the mind, which in turn takes time.
Step light little princess,
Heading advice and walking with care
So as to not attract unwanted stares,
Speak when spoken to
and give pause
to process a slogan.
Think aloud only if you are alone,
inking pride deep inside.
Pretty papers leave trails that can be followed,
leaving you to weave lies that can’t be swallowed.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 11:19 PM UTC
When I was a kid
I remember watching the comedy channel
Not in my own house, mind you
My parents were too smart for that
When I was a kid hanging out at my friend's houses watching the comedy channel
I remember
A slogan
Time. Well. Wasted.
And I remember thinkin'
"Oh! Yea! I like that! Imma sit here a lil' longer!"
I was just a boy at the time and that's as far as the thought got
About a half-hour later we decided time was better wasted building gigantic, man-eating snowmen.
Eventually I went home
I wasted some time arguing with my parents about schoolwork, ate a bowl of cereal and wasted the next 8 hours in a comatose
I woke up to waste the next several years of my life figuring out how to waste the NEXT several years of my life
Somewhere in there someone told me I should do what I feel called to do so I wasted time waiting for a sign of some kinda magicy, Jesus voodoo
While I was waiting I wasted time reading Ecclesiastes and learned about what a waste of time it is to read Ecclesiastes
So I tried filling my time with all the things that weren't supposed to BE a waste of time but then I didn't have any time so I fell flat on my face on the edge of the vortex that is the human condition!
And I cried, "God!"
"Why do you waste your time with a foolish and selfish sinner like me?"
And the almighty, holy, infinitely incomprehensible, incredible God of the Universe replied
"Time. Well. Wasted."
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
Burgundy, the color of a dress I’ve never worn
to an occasion that never occurred
Velvet lined
coffin
Where lies the violin
There lies its song
The heart of fiddle strings
that bare of arms
That heart that sings, speaks, no, yells
to the hands that can’t respond!
to a mind that can’t remember
I was drowning in some future
not a violinist’s
“Alive with Pleasure”
read the billboard slogan for cigarettes
behind the happy couple
running out into their future
Forcing the hand of marriage
Waving goodbye to my life
from a rooftop in Scranton
as the wind hauled my laundry three city blocks
dumping my unders on Saint Luke’s sills
sailing my sheets up Wyoming Avenue
I lay on the tar and pebble roof
watching pigeons swirl
listening to traffic pass on the street below
The moment you know you’ve made the mistake
you can’t return from....
Wherever my towels have blown?
I wish them well....
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Lights! Evergreen! Action! Have you ever heard of the feast of fools? Plunging into pleasures takes the stage!Welcome to the Saturnalia! The setting takes place in ancient Rome, Emperors rule and slaves usually bow but not on this solstice festival. Backwards is the trend and nothing is forbidden it is a drunken wild revel! No rules no laws! Children become the authority taking part in drunken brawls! Yule logs burn and mistletoe hangs from the tops of each doorway. Streams of evergreen decorate the home as a lit up tree stands alone all are home as business is closed for the five day party. Slaves gamble and cheat and rule their masters! Unrule is the slogan and *** the master in public displays of unholy affection! No recognition of marriage for sin is the law, the anticipation of the Saturnalia! A two faced pagan mythical god is to whom they give their allegiance.
Sadly today, not much has changed, only the name of the public acceptance. It now lasts far longer than five days so as to add to the excitement of the masses. Traditions remain alot the same; more suicides occur on the winter solstice. More drunken bouts, more placed in prison for truly unruly behavior. Yet Christian is the title as it masks the scene, with a portrait of a nativity, desperately trying to mask the desires of the popularity at such a sinful occasion. It's all an attempt to make what is obscene okay in the eyes of their Maker.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
I may never change the world with words.
I may never write a string of syllables
that a high school kid will be forced to memorize.
But I know that I must try
because the world is a wonderfully awful
brutally beautiful place and everyday
I look at something I saw yesterday
and still it shakes me.
And maybe I write too many poems
about too few different things like
women that get stuck in my head
the way poems sometimes get stuck in my pen
or... did I mention the women?
But I'm going to keep writing
about the same four things
or the same one girl
until I can read it back to myself
and instead of it reminding me of what I ment
it will show you what I saw.
Because in the end you gotta do
what you gotta do and I HAVE to do this
and I don't care how much I was
called a ***** in high school or last week.
And it doesn't matter if I meet somebody in a bar
and when I say I'm a poet they smile and walk away
and never look back.
Because I AM a poet
not because I made the choise
but because I was born this way
and before you comment on how
I'm stealing the slogan
of Mamma Monster
I'm going to say that it's not about
being gay, or the wrong color,
or being sluttier than most people like,
or being crazier than most people can handle,
it's about absolutely owning who you are,
because deep down we're all a little queer
and you can let your oddities make you invisible
or you can make them turn you into a monster
and let you be the thing that goes bump
in the middle of the day.
And if you don't like it
I apologize for this unpoetic end
but you can go **** yourself.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 12:23 AM UTC
late night hoops
24-hour fitness
you call me "white boy"
"how did you know?"
i want to say
funny
"hey white boy"
sounds a lot like
"hello mr. oppressor"
i am not
a poster boy for the past or present
a rusty slogan of inequality
or
a white boy
i am
irish norwegian german french-canadian native american
spud-eating fur trapping wampum-trading viking
i am
pumping pull-ups on the poverty line
just tall enough to ride the wel-ferris wheel
unable to tell my mother i love her
and
b r o k e n
Deta
ched
scarred
******* my shirt like a salty otter pop
swallowing sweaty syllables
the pringle on my shoulder
about to crunch
game point
tie game
15
15
we are equal
even when i sink that shot
tickle that twine
we are still equal
you and i
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****
I knew a certain few things
1. He was not getting laid tonight.
2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****
3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.
I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement
Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.
Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.
And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!
But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess ********
I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda
So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".
Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess ********
Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess ********
I mean lets be real without princess ********
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.
And you've been known to be pretty charming.
But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.
You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.
Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
Wailing walls, howling fences
Encaged and blocked by barriers
All smashed, sorted in security fence
Miles of humanity and flesh torn apart
Why is it that we can’t live together?
We bleed the same coagulating blood
Lined up and humiliated in alleyways
Paths of iron bars and imprisonment
My veins wringed, intensive torment
Mentally distracted, strained by grief
Settlement, conflicts and border struggles
Governance, religious trickles of disunion
The biblical birthright verses human rights
The unsighted straining peace settlement
Shadows of the peace blueprint screams
Ongoing reconciliation, milked in small doses
Whose home is whose? Subdivided in areas
Controls of disillusionment undisclosed
Unmanned checkpoints evokes fears
Revolving cameras tossed and turned
Bansky slogan “make hummus not war”
Smashes freedom to uproot and merge
Constitute and construct peaceful resorts
All horns blowing to collapse duality
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
[Dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, the greatest Fraud of all times]
Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.
The decorated dream-city will lose its
electricity for ever;
in all directions, the slogan of hyenas
will be heard only.
Going to the shade of Bodhi Tree,
I asked Gautama Buddha,
'By tasting which poisonous fruit,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre
in Myanmar? '
Hanging his head, said Gautama, 'Darkness.'
Going to Bethlehem, I asked Jesus Christ,
'By drinking which grape-juice,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre in Mosul,
Baghdad and Syria singing of democracy? '
Hanging his head, said Jesus, 'Darkness.'
Going to the holy home of Moses,
I bowed down my head and said, 'Would you
tell me, by eating which Manna and Salwa
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in killing children
and women in holy Palestine? '
Hanging his head, said Moses, 'Darkness.'
Going to Mathura city, I said to Lord Krishna,
'Please tell me, by eating which food
offering to deity, your disciples have become
insane and have been involved in massacre
in Kashmir, Delhi and Gujarat? '
Hanging his head, said Krishna, 'Darkness.'
Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.
Again the days of darkness have descended on earth.
I have been searching Abdul-Muttalib's son
Abdullah's house in Pharaoh's city—
in such a thick darkness, no doubt,
the Sun of the desert had risen
in the lap of Amina!
[Translated by the poet from Bengali]
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
Your name is a sharp thing on their tongue
and they always mispronounce it
and it always has an odd way
of sounding like boy
as it leaves their mouth
they are still spitting the last syllables out
and already their teeth
are full with your ******
and their eyes can’t see
anything wrong here being done
now that you aren’t breathing anymore
and your fifteen minutes of fame
have stretched out
to a twenty minute story
on sixty minutes
if you weren’t already boxed
in oak and velvet
and buried under the ground
maybe you could have enjoyed
the lime light of it all
but there is no joy
surrounding your name today
but thanks to the alchemist
who turned the pound sign
into a hashtag
you’re part of the movement now
hashtag slogan
hashtag your name
hashtag another body breathing
at the wrong time
in front of the wrong fear
being pierced by an old hate
bullet after bullet after bullet
till it isn’t breathing anymore
hashtag slogan
hashtag your name
maybe I already forgot your name
maybe I’m guilty of mispronouncing it too
maybe I’m just too tired to say it
tired of being tired all the time
tired of watching things get worse
tired of knowing we could be better
tired of knowing we should be better
tired of the painful burden of hope
as someone else’s name
falls in line
and becomes part of the movement
hashtag slogan
hashtag your name
i don’t know what comes next
or where you might be
I hope wherever it is
It’s somewhere better than here
Somewhere better than us
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
Although she didn’t use these exact words,
What it got down to was:
“My **** hurts!”
Your age-appropriate **** buddy
Experiencing a profound lubrication deficit.
Vaginal dryness:
A legitimate topic these days for
Baby-Boom conversation.
“65: the New 30,” the slogan rings.
A Mel Brooks clarion call,
Harvey Corman doing Count Da Money:
"Don't get saucy with me, Bearnaise!"
For all our good friends at
KY, Vaseline & Astroglide--
As recommended by female OB/GYNs,
(Should there be any other kind?)
Sales projections are rosy for
Ottmar’s Coconut Cooch Oil,
Despite the economic downturn,
So, naturally, you commence your
Search for a young, wet—sopping wet—co-ed,
Running the risk of bumping into
Some UC Berkeley ****
Who digs older gentlemen, and
Knows your daughter, Gwendolyn.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Sights disable me by birth
Father as witness to.
Mother to teach A to Z every time
And trying well correcting my sight.
To leave school, after full fill lessons
To change my disable sight, why?
For my sight, present friends and other people,
Of book tonic, medicine plants,
Traditional treatments
And more other onetime roots,
But nothing change my sight,
At last the order coming,
Wear specs.
To run at 1st street
Saw, wore whole shop in saffron coluor,
In glass chamber, stick saffron bindi in all doll's forehead
And saffron specs covered their eyes.
Add verse displayed - buy specs
Get rusted lance free absolutely.
To reached eyes on 2nd street
The shop 'n' carpets are green,
All dolls had beard and turban
In theplank advertising - buy specs
Get sword 'n' a bottle perfume free.
In the 3rd street endered my face
Whole room yellow, front dolls, specs,
Everywhere yellow, display text be yellow,
If buy specs, wonderful wine free.
To the 4th street, move my foot
Whole floor blue like the sea,
At shop, dolls, specs, all are blue
Gospel on display board
Seat on heaven be reserve free, buy specs.
Much crouded in 5th street
From enterence and street , to shop are red
Dolls are spectrum of victims, specs are red
slogan of display plank,
Sharpen wooden spear free,
Under puchased all specs.
And stret boys call worst,
Throw ***** of guilty verse,
And much caper plays
At back, a crying noises
That 2nd street, ask a boy brokenly
Passed away whole street,
In which specs for my sight?
And which colour for specs?
I too distruct and move my leg to 6th street,
From door to everywhere crystal,
And the floor pellucid, on the street no crowd
At the shop no doll and display plank.
When wear crystal specs,to see my own me?
To know my friend, colour of appetite,
Depth of love, greatness of hope in eyes.
I pray, with pulsated heart,
And wait for specs on the 6th street.
==============================C N Kumar.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
A brown clipboard holding some sheets of paper.
Names,
lists of them all signed perfectly
with the black ball-point pen dangling from a chain off the side.
Him,
a family member, one who I had respect for.
Me,
seven years old
told to wait outside on the porch while he talked to my mother.
A bumper sticker,
two people holding hands accompanied by a slogan,
“Marriage” it said,
“one man,
one woman”.
I was too young then to understand,
maybe I am still too young to understand,
all I knew then is that my uncle asked my mother to sign something,
war declaration for all I knew,
and I guess it was in a way,
a war against people,
and a war against choice.
My mother did not sign the paper,
the one with all the names,
one slot on the clipboard left blank for the next person to choose to pick up the pen,
that black ball-point pen,
and to sign their name,
slowly,
perfectly,
signing away a life,
but not their life,
they would go on, and on, and on,
but signing away another's life,
someone they would never meet,
someone they would never know,
but someone they already disliked.
Why?
If that clipboard were given to me now,
I would be like my mother,
strong in my determination not to scribble my own messy name underneath the list of others,
strong in my determination not to sign away someone else's life,
someone else's happiness,
someone else's future.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 11:02 AM UTC