"tata" poems
1.You're simply amazing that it becomes impossible to use complex words to truly portray your beauty since no amount of words in the world could ever define you.
2.Wewe ni ajabu tu kwamba inakuwa vigumu kutumia maneno tata kwa kweli kuonyesha uzuri wako tangu hakuna kiasi cha maneno katika dunia inaweza milele kufafanua wewe
3.Jy is net amazing dat dit onmoontlik komplekse woorde te gebruik om jou skoonheid werklik uitbeeld aangesien daar geen bedrag van woorde in die wêreld ooit kon jy definieer.
4. Vous êtes tout simplement incroyable qu'il devient impossible d'utiliser mots complexes à véritablement représenter votre beauté puisque aucune quantité de mots dans le monde ne pourrait jamais définir vous.
5. È semplicemente incredibile che rende impossibile utilizzare complesse parole per davvero rappresentare la tua bellezza poiché non quantità di parole nel mondo potrà mai definire .
6. es simplemente increíble que resulta imposible utilizar palabras complejas para verdaderamente retratar su belleza ya que ninguna cantidad de palabras en el mundo nunca te podría definir.
7. Είστε απλά καταπληκτική ώστε να καθίσταται αδύνατη η χρήση σύνθετων λέξεων με πραγματικά απεικονιστεί ομορφιάς σας δεδομένου ότι κανένα ποσό των λέξεων στον κόσμο θα μπορούσε να καθορίσει ποτέ σας.
So if words couldn't possibly be enough then perhaps if I write it in another language it would be enough, but unfortunately it isn't. Words no matter how I put them out its simply not enough.
You're Adored greatly,
You're simply Amazing.
And I thought you deserve to know.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
Has anyone heard about her?
This magnificent girl,
my fangirl parter,
the other half to the
photography duo?
If so, please contact me.
Todays her birthday,
and yes I'm a few hours late,
but I'd like to say a very
Happy Birthday
to my dear friend.
She has helped me through tough times,
and has been through a lot herself,
but she's a survivor.
She's MIA,
and I need my friend back...
Well, I hope she is doing well,
she's finally becoming a teenager
(but totally not a normal stereotypical one, who needs normal anyways?)
and I'm so proud. -tear-
She's come a long way and I've had the privilege of knowing her personally.
Hope you're okay and that you see this,
Maha.
Tata for now ;)
-Creep
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
A baby clutches his mother’s dress
Unaware of how it will save his life
Unwary of the saving grace that will come to rest
The child is soft and clean
His name is Eugenius, the second of three
After Richard, before Michal
He is just a babe, no bigger than an infant can be
A toddler clutches his mother’s dress, the hem
Unaware of tragedy
Unwary of the Horror that awaits him
The child is frightened and shaking
His name is Gene, the second of three
After Richard, before Michal
He is just a little one, no taller than Mama’s knee
A child clutches his mother’s hand
Unaware from behind her skirt as they are herded
Unwary of the disaster to come from the cart
His name is Genie, the second of three
Before Mikey, after Richie
He is just a child, no higher than Tata’s knee
A boy holds his brother’s hand tight
Unaware of the danger he is in
Unwary that the coin from Mama’s skirts will save his life
The boy is healthy and strong, though not for long
His name is Gene, the second of three
Before Michal, after Richard
He is naïve, but soon to grow up prematurely
A prisoner holds his own shirt, unsure
Unaware of the pain that is coming
Unwary that he shall walk away nevermore
The prisoner is hurting and ******
His name is “Gefangene,” the second of two
After Richard, before the crimson mess
He is crying for a ****** towel carried by
A handicap clutches Mama’s leg
Aware that he cannot cry as she shuffles him out
Wary that outside her skirts is the hunt
The handicap is hurting so badly
His name is Gene, the second of three
After Richard, before the new bump
He is unwilling to believe
A kaleka holds tight to his brother’s back
Aware that he is a burden
Wary that he is a load
The kaleka is waiting, waiting.
His name is Gene, second of three
After Richard, before Theresa
The kaleka is ready for release
The dziecko holds again to Mama’s skirt
Aware that he is now free to leave
Wary that he will never be independent
The dziecko is elated and mourning
His name is Gene, the second of three
Before Theresa, after Richard
The dziecko will never be the same
Sixty five years later
Gene holds Rosie’s hand tight
Aware that he is old now, having lived fully
Wary that death is imminent at last
The great-grandfather is peaceful and content
His name is Tata, Grandpa, Gene, husband, and more
He is the last one left of his war
The survivor is ready to reunite with his family
He gives thanks to Hattie’s skirts
That kept him alive though the hurts.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC
brat i sestra
brat: cao
sestra: cao
brat: gde je tata?
sestra: u sobi.
brat: sta radi?
sestra: ma odkud znam, pusi.
brat pravi sendvice. pet sendvica. mleko i keks. malo cipsa sa strane.
brat ne zna nista. sestra zna po nesto.
brat se obraca psu: pa gde si ti bio ceo dan?jeli malisanu mali, milice jedna, jel si gladan? a sta si radio? hoces napolje? jao pa vidi te sapice, smrdo jedan.
ne izvodi psa.
brat jede. cuti.
brat ide na spavanje, vec je jako kasno. opranih zuba.
sestra vec spava. brat otvara vrata sestrine sobe naglo, namerno ili mozda slucajno ali ne i prvi put. gleda u mrak i osluskuje sestrino mumlanje i cangrizanje. cuti. zatvara vrata i odlazi u svoj mrak, prekoputa.
jutro je.
brat: cao
sestra: cao
brat: gde je tata?
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
O Madiba! Madiba your ship has finally come to rest
Rest now, now rest, for peace was your bequest.
Humiliated, disgraced, yet in captivity you chose
By embracing your enemy, you learnt and rose.
Insulted, assaulted, assaulting, at fault,
Lover, Soldier, for Justice, for God’s sake!
Stop work, break bread, water and salt
And follow in his wake.
O Madiba! Tata Madiba you who have overcome
A true mandala spun, a Nelson who has won
Overcoming loneliness, cowardice and fear.
Bravery but a blindness brought on by all held dear.
Shame, defeated, blame, defeated, fame -
Let all come, let all shake,
Same blood, same, all the same,
And follow in his wake.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
A man who fought for freedom
Is frail and old yet remembered
For all his contributions and sacrifices
He made to rid all types of discrimination
In the early years a Law Degree
Seemed perfectly suiting
Boxing made him tough like a brute
But his soul-passive, polite and caring
A role-model to everyone
Who said, "Debate, no guns!"
A peace_maker for all
A teacher for all
Even in darkest hours
His humilty, nobility and responsibility
Is but a few of what we can reap of his success
27years of incarceration
All for the fight of discrimination
His sacrificed time
In quarries of lime
A day that they remembered
A day that they paraded
With happiness and delight
1994
People in queues of snakes
Waited for a chance to cast their first vote
*We salute you TATA MADIBA
Thank you for your valiant services*
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
'Tata Madiba'
Father of the Nation,
Today you could have been 97 years,
but your journey of life was cut so short,
21 years years of democracy is what we will all remember you with,
Nelson Mandela,
the great fighter,
you tought us to love and be in unity,
your works we shall remember,
may your dear soul rest in peace forever,
while we still hold on to 67 minutes of Madiba day,
showing our love and care for our great nation as much as you did,
we love you Tata,
we honour your legacy,
together we still can because of your great dids,
'Halala Madiba Halala!!'
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 4:31 AM UTC
Through time,
Stars continue to illuminate,
Billions of miles,
Long, long after death:
R.I.P Nelson Mandela.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 7:48 AM UTC
1) I learnt that if life gives you lemons, then it is probably because it doesn’t want your life to be too diabetic. Thanks Lyf, Much Love.
2) It is good to be curious. Actually being curious is all you need to gain knowledge of any kind (quite literally, hah)
3) Thai food will never be good. Ever.
4) Ghaziabad is in Uttar Pradesh, who knew.
5) Alternative music is the one for me.
6) Benedict Cumberbatch will never be mine. I will have to die alone.
7) Fireflies can also be called ‘insects with a glowing tutu’ in Pritika World.
8) American Pie is actually not a movie on pies (yes, I am innocent child still)
9) Never settle for samosa, if you have pizza or sandwich.
10) Hippies are friendly people.
11) It is okay to love yourself before anyone else.
12) The dream for a world tour is 90% unrealistic unless you are offspring of Gates, Tata or billionaire daddies.
13) Google has 3 birthdays.
14) Wearing rings is the shizz and after some time, you’ll feel naked without them.
15) Making 11:11 wish works 46% of the times (yea, I calculated)
16) You feel alone even at a time when you’re messaging 10 people together. That is how social life is.
17) 18 is gonna come soon and the thought of being ‘legal’ makes you crazily excited as ****
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
They took them…
With a *** shovel and beards engulfed with disguise,
By fire, by force and harm
They heartlessly took them…
Loading with a military van from the snare, the school
Sabotaging their education and jubilance
At the brink of our oculus, like a hot blade through margarine,
Like the evanescence of dew upon new dawn,
They were gone…
We cajole to Haram Islamic militants,
Not the slavery we signed up for,
Yet this is our story, but not our destiny.
It is profane and sacrilegious to talk slavery upon our realms.
Our ancestral dormancy and Jesus crucifixion outlines our history.
We were untrammeled...but today,
Our existence is dreary and clouded by mystery
We count minutes turning into tormented hours,
In lament of our own flesh and blood
They took them..
with needles and stylus they pinched poked and taunted us,
Like a bunch of sponges filled with voids,
Our hearts are painfully porous,
Dope them with defects,
Bring back our girls…
Haram saboteurs came in with a saber,
They took them…
How less of a man to not respect the words of the late Tata Madiba,
When he said"Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land
Will again experience the oppression of one by another".
There will be war upon the element of Haram when Jesus intervene..
Bring back our girls..
(Nigreian acsent)
Chinekeee, man of Haram, bring back our girls_oo
I beg, why go they take?
Eeeh, god will go get you one day,
With our teary Nigerian eyes, will we ever see?
Adedagbo, our crown of joy ?
Aduke, our beloved ?
Afolayan Walking in majesty...
Agbogu, God settles dispute…
Bring back our girls.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Osiem metrów wysokości.
Pośrodku szczelina.
Rzeźba dziecka z betonu
obok kontury ciała i pustka
po bezbronnej istocie,
której już nie ma.
Szorstka struktura szarości
rani delikatną skórę.
Głód. Choroby. Samotność.
Świat zapomina o tych,
co nie krzyczą głośno—
o tym co najbardziej boli:
o miażdżonej niewinności,
i olbrzymach pilnujących
orszak przestraszonych wielkich oczu
w małych, wychudzonych ciałach.
Pamięć nie jest wygodna.
Ona fizycznie boli.
Uparte rany nie goją się.
Było.
Jest.
Wije się w sąsiednich otchłaniach Tartaru.
Aksjomat przyjęty przez aklamację:
„Tak ma być!”
Cisza.
Na scenę wychodzi syn ocalałego.
Łamiącym się głosem szepcze:
Tata przeszedł piekło, ale kochał nas.
Przeżył, napisał pamiętniki.
Dał świadectwo.
Rozumiał ten wykolejony świat.
BROKEN HEARTS
Eight meters high.
A crevice in the center.
A concrete sculpture of a child
and the deep void.
Once there was another child,
now gone without a trace…
The rough grey texture
hurts fragile skin.
Hunger. Disease. Loneliness.
The world forgets
those who do not scream
and what hurts the most:
crushed innocence
guarded by the giants
watching the procession
of terrified wide eyes
in small, gaunt bodies.
Memory is not a peaceful place,
it brings physical pain.
It gnaws from underneath.
Stubborn,
festering wounds,
they refuse to heal.
It was.
It is.
It will happen again
by axiom,
accepted without question.
That is how it must be.
Like a venomous snake
slithering near the lands of Tartarus.
Endless sacrifice, leaden silence.
And then, the son of the survivor takes the stage.
He speaks in a whisper:
My Father went through hell, but he loved us.
He wrote it down—
a testimony of a derailed world.
He knew what it meant to be human
when it hurt.
He survived to love and to be loved.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 6:13 PM UTC
Marahil ay yun nga,
Bagay na dapat ay batid na,
Mahilig ka sa pinagmumukha
Kang tanga.
Di ito drama pagkat ito'y
Tuwa.
Sa dami ng salita ko'y
May nagpapatahimik bigla.
Saan ka, Tata?
Saan ka, ligaya?
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
This teetotaler turns to tea
torquing temptation
towards tippling
thankfully, though
that tremendous tugging
teasing tendency thirst *******
thru teaching this totally tubular
toothless titular Texan thuggish tyrant
(titled Tsar Terry Troutman)
transcendental theology
tenets taught transferring
torpedoing, taming threatening
titanic tsunami tempest
tastefully tickling temperance
testing trying taut tenacity
together teaming (troika)
triumvirate torchbearers
*********** therapist
(Tony the tiger)
tough trailblazer theoretician
toady treacly Tory
(Tommy Two Tone),
thence thirdly Theodore
"Tornado" Tornetta)
themselves trained to tamp
twerking tremens triggers,
their tripartite treatment told
tattooing thorny transforming
took this then truant teenage turtle
through time traveling
to those truant tumultuous tragic,
toxic, tipsy twitchy, touchy, tetchy
typhoon terrible two times two
times two times two tantrum
throwing, thieving, threatening
taxing textured teen tinder times -
tossing, tilting, taking tankful tolled
throaty, thoroughly,
thickly telltale temblor
toured terrible tournament
testing taupe tumbling termagant (Thaddeus)
tangling (Tangoing) tiny Timothy,
the treacherous tarantula
tying tussling travail – tata!
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 6:31 PM UTC
Can da dare na dare
Bisa dereren dara
Yara yan tare taron
Tattara taurar tata
Na takura turmin
Tura turakar tunkura
Kunyar kunya na
Tunkuya tukar tuka
Tukwanen kwaba
Kwafar kololon
Kwakwule kwacen
Kwakwa na kwakwula
Hausa ba dabo ba
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 6:14 PM UTC
#***Dear Well-Wisher,
I hope this message finds you in good health.
We, Vaishali and Tushar Purohit from Pune, come to you with a heavy heart and tears in our eyes, pleading for your help to save our 4-year old son Rishi's life. He is undergoing treatment for neuroblastoma (rare form of cancer) at the Tata Memorial Hospital, Mumbai.
Since April, our little warrior has been bravely battling cancer that is threatening to take him away from this world. Every rupee you contribute will be the difference between life and death for our 4-year old warrior.
We would also request you to forward this message to your family and friends, which will inspire them to contribute and aid in saving an innocent life.
Here's the fundraiser link: https://www.impactguru.com/fundraiser/help-s-o-tushar
Thanking you for your consideration and support during these trying times.🙏🏼 ***#
Jul 20, 2024
Jul 20, 2024 at 8:22 AM UTC
When Tata
said to me
Sophia he is all right
Benedict is all right
and I believe
you and he
have not had ***
I was relieved
and felt the perspiration
run down my back
and into my blouse
yesterday evening
and while he
was saying that
I had just pushed
the image
of Benedict and me
******* on my bed
him whispering
those words
love you
love you
in my ear
and when Tata
called Mamusia
into the lounge
and said
Benedict is all right
I believe her
when she say
she and he
have not had the ***
and he hugged her
and kissed her cheek
and I could see
she was relieved too
and now lying in bed
with lights out
the moon visible
through the window
of my bedroom
I can relax
and enjoy the image
of Benedict and me
here in this bed
******* away
like soldiers
on a mission
him above me
me beneath
being entered
and sensing him
sensing his every
touch and kiss
but now as I do so
I think but what if
Tata had not
believed me
what if he knew
I had had ***
with Benedict
in this bed
what then?
how I would be now?
and I visualize Tata
staring at me
his dark eyes
full of fire
burning out
all memories
of Benedict
and ****** desire.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 1:23 AM UTC
Beautiful beaches, beautiful nature,
beautiful nature and beautiful scenery.
Hippy Swivel Reyes Jikko Sakura
Station, Shin Zipcard Church,
Chad Puke Park,
Chad Puke Park, European
Mountain, Stock Park, Crown
Door Center, Public
Umbrella Center, William
Uro Corak Award, South
Tempo Statistical Center, Computer
Packages Overview: These
Unlimited Dollars,
Towels and Toys is a French,
French philosophy.
What looks like American
gardens? Akiko Tata, Akiko
Winter, Brown Bridge, Ami
Hiazipi Manichi, Robert Kerry,
Reza Dada and Ramas Sharika,
South Black Sea, technology
transfer, Benin, China, China
Little Commission, last year's
high quality wild forests.
The French media for media's
entertainment, many natural
stories, the public museum,
the Swadeshi folk club,
William Robbins, the Sunday Drama Drama,
the Mexican Blue, and the rich family - legendary legends.
OG is a dangerous place in Gnan Park.
Many mothers in the United States
are in the hospital Akum Tomo Acicci
Alcoholic beverages Jack Jack CO Kharke,
Hearing Brothers Bros, huge revolutionary valve;
Rover wandering huge unwanted chemistry,
happy coffee, sugar, cheesy drugs,
European Union, Red Carl Electricity,
Peace Center South Carolina,
Notebook William Roberts, Gama and Akuraai, Rip Pellas Jazz,
Irish Michelle film, Anita, Philosophy and Body Tividhi Ura
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC
A bunny found their way on my screen
Back when my humour was dry and obscene
Who would predict that years later
I'd somehow find no reason to hate her
and long to even have her wish I could be there
To a woman who grew with me, granted in a different direction
Whos personality was striking, infectious
Whenever I get that first paycheck, I'll have you in mind
To gifts you may never see, where I hope in humankind
We meet once more and hug like we never could and thought absentminded
To your eyes, that even caught me off guard on a digital screen
To a hope for a physical gleam
of that beautiful smile you so vicariously show
To your everything, ive been Blown
Away, time and time again, how you've grown
Saranghaeyo, I won't deny it any further
Even if we don't speak, I seek you with vigor
How I'll wait military time, diligent like Bam
I'll buy every piece of merchandise, every Lego, ever hoodie
And then some, Cause surely
I'll meet you properly again, someday
Maybe I'm Shooky, fell on my head with a Mang
The lingo is no fun, when you have no plan
No direction, only seogtan in my Chimmy
Shall I say Tata? Now that I have the gravitas?
Swimming in a direction, so willing
What point is a bias, when one only loves a byeol
A star thats barely known, yet shines in my soul
A human so radiant, her being brings me joy
From naïve to the very opposite of Coy
Willing to give the world, where he hates it himself
I'm sorry, for misusing you with my words and anger
I can't see the band the same, where you brought them, a manager
A genre I'd never in my life get to touch
Is something that makes me miss you so much
And for that, I hope you read this one day and laugh
Son-ga-rak ha teu, I love you Bun Yoongi
The name we figured out together
Please, in this or the next life come find me
And tell me all about Bulletproof Boy Scouts when you see me
Again, I hope
Saranghaeyo
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 9:18 PM UTC
I'm in a poetry class
It really ***** ***
It bends all the rules
It really drools
This is for fun
Now I'm gonna run
For all of those reading I'm a crazy girl
And I was trying to rhyme but I guess I don't have to
Tata for now and this poem is for you... In your dreams anyways
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
Le pire pourrait être qu'on ne comprend pas pourquoi.
Le Baume pour un peu apaiser nos cœurs, c'est qu'on la retrouvera au ciel.
Le meilleur, on le dit en larmes reste à venir
La douleur faut être sincère ne s'évanouirai pas de Jamais.
La vie, on la vivra avec ce trou baignant
Aide nous à faire le deuil Dieu.
Mais on ne veut pas Oublier notre tata.
Car comme ça, une partie d'elle, toujours, restera avec nous.
Jusqu'au jour où ça sera notre tour
Console Seigneur
Console Père
Console Saint-Esprit
La Douleur brûle comme la glace
Paix à notre maman
A.M.E.N.
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 2:04 PM UTC
tata je znao
znao je prije mene i mame
znao je
i patio je duze od nas
patio i patio je
dok smo se nadali
on je znao
i sa slomljenim srcem
je zivio gotovo dvije godine
rekli su nam
a moj tata
on rekao je
da je znao
u njemu ni jedna nada
nije zivjela
samo znanje
znao je
da Amira nece biti vise dugo
my father knew
he knew before me and mom
he knew
and he suffered longer than us
he suffered and suffered
while we were hoping
he knew
and with a broken heart
he lived almost two years
they told us
and my father
he said
that he knew
inside him not one hope
has lived
only the knowledge
he knew
that Amir won't be any longer
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
"Oh Tata you're crazy"
Almond shaped eyes pointing in
Two directions, hair still frizzy from
The static on your two toned wool
Sweater, your glasses askew hanging
Precipitously on the edge of your nose
"You're crazy" I saw again when
You'd show me notebooks filled
Earnest hasty lines naive to prove
Their worth to the world, stumbling
Figures eager to spread world peace
"You're crazy" I repeated as you
Gingerly combed the remaining strands
Of greying hair and tuck your collared
Shirt into your pressed khakis but left
ice cream splotches drying on your arms
Too late I realized that you weren't crazy
I was just too small to it was the world
That was crazy so strict with their lines and rules about who could and couldn't be
And you existed in between spaces yet undefined
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
Tata îmi spune ca mi se atrofiază mușchii în mâna stângă
Așa că,
De noaptea ielelor nu o să mă mai mișc, o să-mi adoarmă corpul -lasă-mă să cad și nu mă mai aduna!
O să las ura ielelor să mă umple, să mă poarte cu solstițiul departe.
Tata tot îmi spune eu îmi dau urechile să le ia ielele, să le ia ielele.
Le dau lor corpul meu care zdruncină gânduri și suferințe,
Le dau lor venele și sângele care car alene globule, vise și cântece pentru sânziene.
Le voi da lor dragostea ce ți-o port, s-o ducă departe, să calce marea în picioare cu ea, să-i înflorească valurile vara ca să înghită țărmul toamna cu dragostea mea -o s-o dau lor, o s-o dau ielelor.
Le voi da cuvintele scrise și nespuse să le lase închise în codrii, să le ardă în focurile culmii.
Le voi da lor tot, vă dau tot ielelor!
Corpul ăsta rupt de timp și atât de tânăr, luați-l ielelor și făceți-vă lume
O coastă zâmbet pentru voi, ielelor!
Ochiul meu pentru cruzime, onorați-l ielelor!
Eu vasul pentru ura voastră, voi aduceți-mă de îndată acasă.
Dragostea asta pentru nimeni și pentru tot,
Luați-o voi ielelor!
Lichiditatea ei pusă în sticlă- poate hrăni pământul cât mor
Fulgeră și tună în mine timpul nerămas pentru dragoste, sânzienelor vă implor luați-o și ascundeți-o.
Mintea aceasta marmură de alamă, o povară pentru mine rogu-vă de-o aruncați.
Sau de-o păstrați ielelor, puneți-o la rece, să nu mai plece, să nu mai sufere.
Fie-vă sânge și sabie de-o luați.
Ielelor de noaptea voastră eu vă dau tot ce sunt eu,
Gură. Aer. Plămâni.
Șoapte. Atingeri. Înghițituri.
Mâini. Vorbe. Visuri.
Genunchi. Coate. Ocolișuri.
Ochi. Lacrimi. Sânge. și Podișuri.
Luați ce puteți duce și acolo unde mergeți, acolo să le distrugeți.
Jun 21, 2022
Jun 21, 2022 at 4:00 PM UTC
I will speak interms of confusing metaphors and allegorical descriptors
for You will never know what I mean,
and I will never know what I mean,
all You and I will ever know is what is said
Beyond that thou art which is not
Who I am and what I am is anybody's guess,
Where I am is in poetry,
when I am is poetry
How and why I am is a poet.
an artist chosen by this art
A puppet of words that string me along,
That dangle my reflection on the scene.
and What's this scene?
The dream of this stage, an age to redeem this day, this momentary cage of sound and phonetics, playing on the morphemes, that sort these informants into proteins that fire the works of this neural chemistry.
A cosmic tapestry... And I've lost the plot of this pointless exercise in passing the time as I pass this chime down to the last rhyme.
With no point but a line, a single continuous line that's only sometimes audible.
With no beginning and no end but always a middle.
A halfway mark between now and then
Half and half all the way to infinity,
Trapped in this trinity plus one.
The subject, the object and the verb plus all the fillers in between,
Adding the jective into obviously obnoxious obstancy.
Abstracting words from subtracting the colors of birds...
Man I really don't know when to stop.
Nor does he, when he spots the plot that keeps the inserting eye from searching the skys to admiring this fly.
Zipping in and out of space, never able to pin it down between his chopsticks.
So maybe I should stop this
Right here, left now and take flight,
Tata bye.
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 12:13 PM UTC