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"terrorised" poems
(This poem is on the earthquake that people in Sikkim,India had faced on 18 September 2011. I was one among them too! P.S- on this very that is my brother's birthday! So i remember it more profoundly....just read on to find out more. Certain words mean the following out here- MG MARG- MAHATMA GANDHI MARG.{Marg means street.} LAL BAZAAR-refers to a marketing place in the capital of Sikkim,i.e,Gangtok) MAAL ROADING-Maal road is generally found in most of the hill stations in India. But in my college, Maal Road has a different and funny meaning.) DISCO COMMITTEE-refers to the DISCIPLINARY Committee in our college,which takes stringent actions against the guilty.) 18 was the date- When a bunch of girls had decided to travel through the city. But I was the one who wasn't prepared, As it was raining pretty heavy. The girls planned to eat,roam and shop about, through the MG MARG and LAL BAZAAR! Fortunately for me due to some unavoidable circumstances the plan got dropped.... And all I could see was girls making unbearable pouts!! In the evening, when people go out MAAL ROADING, I went to the shop with a company for buying a recharge card as done daily! Though I bought it, I somehow forgot to scratch it, I rather kept it inside my bag. Strolling down the campus We sat on the football field Watching the players kicking the ball in glee With their boots,shorts and tee! At exactly 6:10 pm, there was a great turbulence, which caused a whole lot of purturbence! Yes, that was the 6.9 that shook us! People running to and fro to save their lives, some shirtless,some barefooted and some in towels! With buildings shaking and cracking there was nothing but utter horror and shouting! People seemed like Refugees, With no phone networks to contact friends,relatives and families! We were told to sleep with our room doors open. But how could we when there were still tremors coming? SHAKE! and people would be out on the streets! Such a day it was, when Mother Nature had terrorised us! Still the authorities couldn't help themselves from separating boys and girls!! If they happen to meet each other, They would have to face the DISCO COMMITTEE all together! Huh!! When will you get rid off this mentality? So that we can live joyous and peacefully!!!
0
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
ESCAPE!
(This poem is on the earthquake that people in Sikkim,India had faced on 18 September 2011. I was one among them too! P.S- on this very that is my brother's birthday! So i remember it more profoundly....just read on to find out more. Certain words mean the following out here- MG MARG- MAHATMA GANDHI MARG.{Marg means street.} LAL BAZAAR-refers to a marketing place in the capital of Sikkim,i.e,Gangtok) MAAL ROADING-Maal road is generally found in most of the hill stations in India. But in my college, Maal Road has a different and funny meaning.) DISCO COMMITTEE-refers to the DISCIPLINARY Committee in our college,which takes stringent actions against the guilty.) 18 was the date- When a bunch of girls had decided to travel through the city. But I was the one who wasn't prepared, As it was raining pretty heavy. The girls planned to eat,roam and shop about, through the MG MARG and LAL BAZAAR! Fortunately for me due to some unavoidable circumstances the plan got dropped.... And all I could see was girls making unbearable pouts!! In the evening, when people go out MAAL ROADING, I went to the shop with a company for buying a recharge card as done daily! Though I bought it, I somehow forgot to scratch it, I rather kept it inside my bag. Strolling down the campus We sat on the football field Watching the players kicking the ball in glee With their boots,shorts and tee! At exactly 6:10 pm, there was a great turbulence, which caused a whole lot of purturbence! Yes, that was the 6.9 that shook us! People running to and fro to save their lives, some shirtless,some barefooted and some in towels! With buildings shaking and cracking there was nothing but utter horror and shouting! People seemed like Refugees, With no phone networks to contact friends,relatives and families! We were told to sleep with our room doors open. But how could we when there were still tremors coming? SHAKE! and people would be out on the streets! Such a day it was, when Mother Nature had terrorised us! Still the authorities couldn't help themselves from separating boys and girls!! If they happen to meet each other, They would have to face the DISCO COMMITTEE all together! Huh!! When will you get rid off this mentality? So that we can live joyous and peacefully!!!
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44
~ Losing Innocence ~ Why do we risk it all for love? No matter how exquisite, Passionate, wonderful it is, We lose; Always. Whether we part for differences or in death, We lose; Always. No matter how much we try to hold on, Change ourselves or our other, Govern and protect the relationship, We lose; Always. Thus, why do we do it? We do it for the moments that will reside with us, Always. For the craze and lust. The fury, The fervor, The obsession, infatuation, excitement. For the zeal, enthusiasm, passion. We do it for us; To penetrate over into, Our partner. Me and You, We wanted it all. None of the pain, Just the good stuff. Well, we had it. The good, the lovely. What a surprise! But then, As Always, We lost. We lost ourselves, Our way. The rhythm and balance We perfected. How did we not see it coming? Stumbling on to a new realm. One in which we operate alone. The composition wrecked. We smashed into that brick wall. Afraid to leave, Co-dependent. I knew you wanted out. Maybe a break? You opposed it. We could not come back from it. I could feel the coming loss. But not in the way I expected. A trip! To get us back. The excitement could mend us. It did for 72 hours. Then the ultimate force of depature Came upon. In a small elegant English hotel, You died in my arms On a Saturday morning in London. Thirty five hundred miles away from home. The initial shock blasted my mind and body. The detonation of torment pierced my soul. Unadulterated suffering terrorised. I lost my equilibrium and steadiness. Embarking in an unknown world, Where the dwellers seethe with agony. A spot was saved for me there, Where fumes suffocate. A Hell on Earth Where Innocence is Lost.
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Losing Innocence
~ Losing Innocence ~ Why do we risk it all for love? No matter how exquisite, Passionate, wonderful it is, We lose; Always. Whether we part for differences or in death, We lose; Always. No matter how much we try to hold on, Change ourselves or our other, Govern and protect the relationship, We lose; Always. Thus, why do we do it? We do it for the moments that will reside with us, Always. For the craze and lust. The fury, The fervor, The obsession, infatuation, excitement. For the zeal, enthusiasm, passion. We do it for us; To penetrate over into, Our partner. Me and You, We wanted it all. None of the pain, Just the good stuff. Well, we had it. The good, the lovely. What a surprise! But then, As Always, We lost. We lost ourselves, Our way. The rhythm and balance We perfected. How did we not see it coming? Stumbling on to a new realm. One in which we operate alone. The composition wrecked. We smashed into that brick wall. Afraid to leave, Co-dependent. I knew you wanted out. Maybe a break? You opposed it. We could not come back from it. I could feel the coming loss. But not in the way I expected. A trip! To get us back. The excitement could mend us. It did for 72 hours. Then the ultimate force of depature Came upon. In a small elegant English hotel, You died in my arms On a Saturday morning in London. Thirty five hundred miles away from home. The initial shock blasted my mind and body. The detonation of torment pierced my soul. Unadulterated suffering terrorised. I lost my equilibrium and steadiness. Embarking in an unknown world, Where the dwellers seethe with agony. A spot was saved for me there, Where fumes suffocate. A Hell on Earth Where Innocence is Lost.
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72
He’d never forgotten the heap of **** That sat beside the mine, It blocked the sun from his morning walk With its shadow, so sublime, It grew to hover above his home From the time that he was three, Its overpowering vastness grew Not slow, but steadily. And every time that the wind would blow Its dust would fill the air, Would saturate every cranny, even Darken his mother’s hair, The coal dust strangled their garden bed So not a thing would grow, And filled up his father’s lungs with dust Each time that he went below. The more that they mined the deeper coal The higher it grew, the heap, It spread away from the poppethead Was covering up the street, They tried to manage the monster but It grew out of control, With every truckload of **** they dumped From where they mined the coal. At night it loomed like a giant bat With its shadow on the ground, Gleaming black in the moon’s pale beam It terrorised the town, ‘I don’t like walking at night out there,’ You’d hear the women say, ‘That heap is covering Satan’s lair We need to get away.’ But nobody ever got away, At least, not with their soul, They’d sold their souls to the devil, and Were tied to the monster, coal, The men came home with their faces black And their hands all scarred and torn, For coal mining is the sort of job You are cursed with, when you’re born. And he was taken to work the mine When he’d barely turned just six, His father said, ‘Well, I think it’s time, You can leave behind your tricks,’ They showed him how he could work the fan To fill the mine with air, And there he worked twelve hours a day While he learned the word ‘Despair’. His father died when a prop collapsed And they had to leave him there, Under a hundred tons of coal But the owners didn’t care, They simply began another drive To make up the owner’s loss, Whether the miners lived or died Their lives were seen as dross. So Andrew, that was the orphan’s name Went down between the shifts, He took some fuel and matches down He’d long been planning this, He managed to start a coal seam fire That roared by the morning sun, And smoke poured out of that poppethead, While they raged, ‘What has he done?’ But Andrew never emerged again To pay for the thing he’d done, He’d told his sister to write a note, ‘I did it for everyone!’ His bones lie charred where his father fell, Under a hundred ton, They couldn’t put out the coal seam fire, The father lies with the son. David Lewis Paget
0
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
The **** Heap
He’d never forgotten the heap of **** That sat beside the mine, It blocked the sun from his morning walk With its shadow, so sublime, It grew to hover above his home From the time that he was three, Its overpowering vastness grew Not slow, but steadily. And every time that the wind would blow Its dust would fill the air, Would saturate every cranny, even Darken his mother’s hair, The coal dust strangled their garden bed So not a thing would grow, And filled up his father’s lungs with dust Each time that he went below. The more that they mined the deeper coal The higher it grew, the heap, It spread away from the poppethead Was covering up the street, They tried to manage the monster but It grew out of control, With every truckload of **** they dumped From where they mined the coal. At night it loomed like a giant bat With its shadow on the ground, Gleaming black in the moon’s pale beam It terrorised the town, ‘I don’t like walking at night out there,’ You’d hear the women say, ‘That heap is covering Satan’s lair We need to get away.’ But nobody ever got away, At least, not with their soul, They’d sold their souls to the devil, and Were tied to the monster, coal, The men came home with their faces black And their hands all scarred and torn, For coal mining is the sort of job You are cursed with, when you’re born. And he was taken to work the mine When he’d barely turned just six, His father said, ‘Well, I think it’s time, You can leave behind your tricks,’ They showed him how he could work the fan To fill the mine with air, And there he worked twelve hours a day While he learned the word ‘Despair’. His father died when a prop collapsed And they had to leave him there, Under a hundred tons of coal But the owners didn’t care, They simply began another drive To make up the owner’s loss, Whether the miners lived or died Their lives were seen as dross. So Andrew, that was the orphan’s name Went down between the shifts, He took some fuel and matches down He’d long been planning this, He managed to start a coal seam fire That roared by the morning sun, And smoke poured out of that poppethead, While they raged, ‘What has he done?’ But Andrew never emerged again To pay for the thing he’d done, He’d told his sister to write a note, ‘I did it for everyone!’ His bones lie charred where his father fell, Under a hundred ton, They couldn’t put out the coal seam fire, The father lies with the son. David Lewis Paget
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73
A bubble Shiny, fragile Easily terrorised, fear that is magnified Don’t stand so close Your breath hurts my skin Your breath hurts my bubble And what lies within My bubble is soft, but my bones are of steel The question remains Do you want to annihilate my bubble, until all you feel All you feel is the heat of the fire from my flesh you ignited And the smoke seeping through the cracks of a giving hand Do you want to strip me of all that I am Only for you to be left with embers Embers from my steel From the pit of a galaxy And my unbreakable bones.
0
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 6:05 PM UTC
bones & bubbles
Words will be written. Thoughts will be told, Information put forward. Dreams bought and sold. Tales of Inspiration. Gutter-trash news. Chaotic Information. Informants ruse. Politicians false pledge Juggling board Politics on the edge. Should they fall on their sword? Do they never blunder? This Pie-crust elite Information to wonder While they're dragging their feet. Our earth, our nation With over fished ocean. De-forestation. No sun without lotion. Extinction of the wild The draining of fuel No food for a child The greed of the cruel. This world where we live, Earthquake and Tsunami Have we nothing to give, terrorised from the sea. Maybe acid filled rain don't forget Global-Warming Is this world that we drain perhaps giving a Warning.
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Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
Less talk. More action
It's nothing more than a word to some It can bring back memories thought to be lost A simple home A small dog.. But safety to me lies within a person. Entwined in their eyes and embedded in their being When most people think safety, they think of something normal. But for me, Safety is him. Gone with my fears and my regrets Gone with my nightmares that terrorised me for months on end. Safety is him and the tought of one day finally being in his arms Even for a moment...
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
Safety
The first appeared to me in white, and I thought him pure of soul Little did I know that night his spirit was black as coal Conjuring many connotations, he seemed of pure intent But his gift devoured nations as his plague would not relent He spread like wildfire through the land, yet displaying no remorse He paved the way for his brothers ****** each arrived in due course A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired In red the second of the four needed no introduction I knew at once that this was War, with havoc and destruction He plied his trade while the world did bleed, and seeds of hate did sow And ventured he upon his steed where no other man would go For once the earth was fertilised from the spill of human veins All the people he had terrorised succumbed to their own chains A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired And scales in hand the third did spring with his mare dark as his heart But far from justice he did bring; only famine did he start And so just as midnight claims the sun he brought his starvation To claim all good that was begun and reap his depravation And even though his deed was done, spread far by his charcoal horse All the suffering was far from gone; for horsemen come in fours A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired And all too soon before me stood the fourth and final horseman While there he stood with horse and hood spoke he to me his caution Pale and pallid his horse and pallor; left a lot to be desired Now invalid; vigour and valour; no longer are required The Fates; their cloth length cut as due, they have measured mine alone And now here He comes; Death right on cue, to claim me as his own Copyright ©2016-2017 KF
0
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Four Horsemen
The first appeared to me in white, and I thought him pure of soul Little did I know that night his spirit was black as coal Conjuring many connotations, he seemed of pure intent But his gift devoured nations as his plague would not relent He spread like wildfire through the land, yet displaying no remorse He paved the way for his brothers ****** each arrived in due course A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired In red the second of the four needed no introduction I knew at once that this was War, with havoc and destruction He plied his trade while the world did bleed, and seeds of hate did sow And ventured he upon his steed where no other man would go For once the earth was fertilised from the spill of human veins All the people he had terrorised succumbed to their own chains A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired And scales in hand the third did spring with his mare dark as his heart But far from justice he did bring; only famine did he start And so just as midnight claims the sun he brought his starvation To claim all good that was begun and reap his depravation And even though his deed was done, spread far by his charcoal horse All the suffering was far from gone; for horsemen come in fours A solemn warning that’s never heeded Will breed nothing but despair And no amount of promise or pleading Will change what can’t be repaired And all too soon before me stood the fourth and final horseman While there he stood with horse and hood spoke he to me his caution Pale and pallid his horse and pallor; left a lot to be desired Now invalid; vigour and valour; no longer are required The Fates; their cloth length cut as due, they have measured mine alone And now here He comes; Death right on cue, to claim me as his own Copyright ©2016-2017 KF
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37
It's said that the longer you try to keep something away, the deeper it's impression has on you. I fell even harder this time. I wasn't sure if this was love or guilt, it kept me at bay - it felt the same. The first day i ever loved her, must have been or perhaps should have been the day i cherish the most; instead, it became the day that trips me over and shoves me deep into a pit of sorrow and guilt. I can't seem to get out of it. I hurt the only love of my life. Call me depressed, maniac or just a socially awkward **** it doesn't matter, the day i made her cry all over again, caused her pain - I became all of it. Not only did I deprive her of all the happiness and laughter she deserved, but I also filled her with doubt, distress and hatred. I birthed Pain which cripled me with anxiety and hopelessness. As a parent it should have been my duty to look after her, but my anguished soul abandoned her. I didn't dare think about how it must have terrorised her, yet when I look at her, seeking mercy, I see her pretty face, scarred by my pathetic self: laughing, hiding too much behind that pretty smile. If only I could make her happy. If only I could look after her without fragmenting her soul even more.
0
Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 7:11 AM UTC
World in Dismay
what got in me? in every thousand of seconds I walk My eyes follow the back taken by the moments Everything seems good My eyes keep in lamentation judging which one is better kind and bouncing very innocent am sure eyes subscribed to the behinds they really terrorised my mind A better half I have I seem though looking for another The search I have never found Because I don't know what it is!
0
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:11 AM UTC
Unfound
*Am having conflict with truth The truth ain't something you want in your conscious like a ****** The murderer feels relief the victim terrorised him so slicing her neck was like listening to a cool beat put together and the music is just perfect or she just end up crying like a lost kitten you didn't mean it but it just happened you feel lost and your ghosts flash right in front of you It doesn't really set you free It puts you in a comma the rest is up to you whether you fight or just drown*
0
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
nothing but the Truth
How much longer do you think I can withstand the pain of being torn apart from the inside out? The claws ripping into my heart, piercing my soul, making this into a nightmare; tear-stained wishes pouring as love floods off my tongue, easy yet broken; my mind running circles until the thoughts make me dizzy and I fall; paralysed, hypnotised, terrorised. How much longer do you think I can cope with this hole in my heart, the hole that can only be filled by you? Let's count.
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
Let's Count
Truth be told I'm terrorised with fear, Because I'm not about to get a father, I know I'll get a nightmare. I don't want to enter the place, again, Where I wish I could go back to my dreams, To try to make it all better, Because the reality will be painfully in front of me And I'll never be able to make it disappear.
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
Too Scared To Go Through With It
The cold clammy fingers of night creak slowly across the floorboards as I stare at the flickering fireplace my heart begins to up pace to race The flooding feelings that all is not safe brings panic to my terrorised mind in haste I feel hands on my shoulders yet I cannot look around for I am frozen in fear as I know death is here He plays with my hair twilling it round his bony fingers then leans down to whisper in icy breath did you really think you could escape me did you really, he sniggers say goodbye to the light Say hello to forever night By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
Forever Night
Undervalued, as she had been her entire short life She fell into her small simple cot, exhausted It was eleven twenty-five and so cold that night And four that morning since she’d left it in dread. Given up by her frightened parents at only seven She was just as other girls in her village Carried away by the merciless men Who’d terrorised the area to ****** and pillage. A ****** no longer at just eight and a half A mother before she was thirteen She’d had absolutely no schooling She didn’t even know the word obscene. The one single thing that she did understand Was the pain of being beaten all the time If she wasn’t fast enough at bringing their food She was thrashed like it was a crime. And now here she was…exhausted She was only eighteen, but so old And the only thing she ever got from her Lord Was her death that night from the cold. A six year old motherless child all alone She’ll be safe until she turns eight And then just like her dead mother She’ll be cast to the men and a terrible fate. ©Joe Wilson – Some lives are always violent…2015 There are nations around the globe where this is still a common occurrence, even in so-called civilised countries. It is the 21st century, we should be able to stop this horrendous monstrosity.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
Some lives are always violent...
Now that you’re here I have dreamt my cure Before you came I tried everything Holes in my skull And scalpels Hooks And probes Ossified And terrorised Minimised Each time I tried The fire The cup The blood and the Knife But the loss Of innate heat Is the basic condition of life Before you came I considered the seasons Took note of the winds But extreme cures Are what's needed For extreme ills Now that Im yours Now you are mine Now that you’re here I have dreamt my cure You hold in your hands So small and so white The end To this history of medicine The key to release Me from this ****** And lifelong plight The event of my body The broth of my brain Your eyes and your beauty Your beautiful mind And your beautiful shame This merging of elements These tears in the rain My Fire, my Earth and my Water My Air Now that you’re here Now that you are here
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
The End Of History
I'm sat on my ranch, shotgun in hand Swinging on the bench I know they're coming tonight The intruders and their dreadful stench They've terrorised my family And made me a paranoid man Well now I'm making a stand Cause now I know I can The air starts getting colder And the shadows slowly appear They are very far away at present But soon they will be near I hear the snarl of the biggest one The little ones start to growl Tonight their in for a shock I'm not going to throw in the towel With a stern and angry voice I shout to them loud and clear 'You'll never hurt us again' Gone is all my fear Now they are in my sights And I lift my shotgun to aim Slowly then bang bang I put an end to their game The yelping hurts my ears And the moans carry in the air But the big still keeps coming With a wild and dangerous stare Again I take my aim Bang and I watch it drop I go back indoors Finally I've made it stop Early the next morning I set out to burn each one But its me who gets the shock As their bodies have all now gone
0
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
The Intruders
One last sting I have in me before the last leaf leaves the tree, one last kiss you have in you, before routine runs you through. In the summer at full strength I terrorised the giants as they drank, in the spring when you began, you skipped and danced and ran. The cold gets to us all ; ask the October wasp and love in frost.
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 11:24 AM UTC
October
Terrorised From dream to dream The lines Blurred By familiar faces Darkness with teeth Horror Liquified My body Drenched My mind Runs My feet Follow Can’t run Or hide What’s at The core The scream is heard Before I make it
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
Bed Bugs
You see I am a hooligan from way back I got in the way of people I fought people Slapped them hard on the back It really wasn’t me to do that But I look at it as being The hooligan from way back I used to drink lots of beer And chucking the empties On top of the Catholic school roof And I had fun doing that but I needed to be reformed You see I am the hooligan from way back I was playing with the kids Sometimes it was inappropriate But it was easy to do Some cried some let me play with them and it didn’t worry me Because I was the hooligan from way back You see I used to pretend I was visiting a mate in emu ridge but instead I was watching the front door till somebody came out I didn’t know what I was doing I was just the hooligan from way back I hear people call me a **** when I be an adult because With me, well I was the hooligan from way back I was q normal average teenager who had problems And I terrorised the streets of my city You see I was the hooligan from way back You see I was feeling threatened by my father and I say why Because I was the hooligan from way back You see I hated being teased I hated the itchy feeling I got When the other kids teased me But I was the hooligan from way back and I must say I was the hooligan from way back leaving the big angry man On his own I mean I love life And I love the planet It is nice and comfortable Yes I am cool I read and say I am a cold kid mate But I am the hooligan from way back saying to everyone Time to party time to swing Yeah yeah yeah Being a hooligan is fun for all Feeling all scruffy and messy Not worrying about the clean cut nerds who are the teasers Of myself, the hooligan from way back, cool as cool can be I squeeze my way through drainpipes and it fucken-well was a tight squeeze but I did it and some nerdy old family person toasted me with a beer You see I am the hooligan from way back Nothing bothers me Being the hooligan from way back makes me say *** is evil and so is family stuff So sit in my room saying I am the hooligan from way back and I can’t change my actions I am the hooligan from way back yeah I feel cool, calm and collected
0
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 12:31 AM UTC
i am the hooligan from way back
You see I am a hooligan from way back I got in the way of people I fought people Slapped them hard on the back It really wasn’t me to do that But I look at it as being The hooligan from way back I used to drink lots of beer And chucking the empties On top of the Catholic school roof And I had fun doing that but I needed to be reformed You see I am the hooligan from way back I was playing with the kids Sometimes it was inappropriate But it was easy to do Some cried some let me play with them and it didn’t worry me Because I was the hooligan from way back You see I used to pretend I was visiting a mate in emu ridge but instead I was watching the front door till somebody came out I didn’t know what I was doing I was just the hooligan from way back I hear people call me a **** when I be an adult because With me, well I was the hooligan from way back I was q normal average teenager who had problems And I terrorised the streets of my city You see I was the hooligan from way back You see I was feeling threatened by my father and I say why Because I was the hooligan from way back You see I hated being teased I hated the itchy feeling I got When the other kids teased me But I was the hooligan from way back and I must say I was the hooligan from way back leaving the big angry man On his own I mean I love life And I love the planet It is nice and comfortable Yes I am cool I read and say I am a cold kid mate But I am the hooligan from way back saying to everyone Time to party time to swing Yeah yeah yeah Being a hooligan is fun for all Feeling all scruffy and messy Not worrying about the clean cut nerds who are the teasers Of myself, the hooligan from way back, cool as cool can be I squeeze my way through drainpipes and it fucken-well was a tight squeeze but I did it and some nerdy old family person toasted me with a beer You see I am the hooligan from way back Nothing bothers me Being the hooligan from way back makes me say *** is evil and so is family stuff So sit in my room saying I am the hooligan from way back and I can’t change my actions I am the hooligan from way back yeah I feel cool, calm and collected
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53
When the trees had fallen By the hands of men, No one was was there to mourn. When the naked patches of hill Covered the blue mountains And tall towered trees powerlessly fell, No one stopped to mourn. Upon the terrorised trees Hovered the mother mist. She snuggled them tight and whispered: “Do not look, my children. Nothing will happen. Tomorrow, everything is going to be okay.” Her divine wrath wreathed up to the ash sky And afar- Afar it went.
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Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 6:31 AM UTC
When The Trees Had Fallen
Time being one moment of linear to a poet stitching together other loose ends who refuse to be domesticated like love. Love that goes in search of the ***** - to give a kiss Just as St Francis of Assisi, did. And the legend of him holding out his hands -for birds to come nest. And taming the wolf who terrorised a small village. Yes this loose end of love.
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
in search of the *****