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Priya Patel Dec 2010
Dear friend,

I searched the world for you
climbed the highest mountain
swam the longest nile

Why were you hiding?

I faced horrific demons
swam through trecherous waves
almost drowning in tears of frustration

Where were you?

I heard you were hurting
felt your heart melting
sensed you were wanting

I'm looking... I'm comming

Then there you were
right beside me
within me

You are me..
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
i. the beer:

of all the drugs available for legal consumption,
well illegal too,
   i love how alcohol is the only
with a credible, even a romantic story,
take today, as an example,
  i took a gamble (the english really know
how to craft "flat" beers - namely ales...
in terms of lager? ******* can't beat
the central europeans - carling...
    that's all they can summon) -
but this one i came across today was a gem,
crisp and i am a sucker for crisp,
but not enough body of a typical ale,
body? flavour...
                  **** me, having a chemistry
degree i should be brewing...
     ah, but i do have enough vine
      for about 12 bottles every year,
but the dream? well, with music shops
doing the dodo march... i guess the ever
present ambition is to brew beer
(and yes, ***** is brought about by
the fermentation of potatoes);
   but i just love how every bottle has a story,
take this one for example:

               sharp's (rock, cornwall)
  (and yes, cornwall is bue -
            quiet unlike the rest of england,
  they even pretend to be
   "basque" separatists -
  goergie goergie - poachy poachy -
            king john the **** -
raise the black flag with a white cross
to invert the teutonic banner of
             black cross upon a white flag!)

aye ****, d'er beer:

           *doom bar

(est. 1994 - exceptional amber ale)

but like i said: not much body in it -
if a budweiser is the "king" of lager -
then this is certainly a "king" of ale.

the story? verbatim:

    'at the mouth of the camel estuary in rock,
cornwall, lies the trecherous doom bar
sandbank, the inspiration for this
exceptional amber ale.
                the sandbank is revered as a
formidable nautical challenge that
should be approached with respect and
nagivated with skill.'

well **** me, i'm off my rockers, i get a beer
and* a story... bargain,
                            at un' poond und aye-tee!

ii. lactose intolerance / constipation /
             a 4th of the "horsemen of the apocalyspse":


of the four "supposed" horsemen of the apocalypse?
i greatly admire but one:
                                          daniel dennett...
and for what, if not the virtue of being
humbled, awe-stricken, and not much of
a sophist -
                    i.e. a rhetorician.
the other three?
                to me, just a trio of pompous
*****... but daniel dennett?
now that's the bearded fellow i can admire...
he's the humpty-dumpty of the lot,
  he's like the epitome of the socratic method,
translated from ancient times
   into modernity - i.e. not the dialectician:
but the mediator.
      
   and when he mentions lactose intolerance
in humanity beyond the years of man's
"instinct"... i approach a well-known woman
to me (after all, i shared her body as
a foetal "parasite") -
  and she's tried all the could to alleviate
her constipation...
            i walk down the stairs with a bright
idea:
             how about you start drinking
raw milk?
                      maybe raw milk would ease
the constipation?
                           she replies:
not even if i had raw milk with a cherry...
worth a try, i say,
given that i've never seen you drink raw
milk...
        me? i still drink the raw fluid ivory -
better drinking that,
       that shooting rhinos for sport...
for some reason i can't get enough of it...
  cheese beckons?! not really...
but give me a pint of milk, and i'll drink it
in one worthwhile summary:
   concluding in an empty pint glass.
maybe milk will ease the constipation?
   who knows, worth a try.

but of the four "supposed" horsemen,
   i have respect for but one...
      yes yes, hitchens sycophants out there
than have their carnival of mumbles
and ooh and ah's... and a-ha's...
          yes, eloquent to the highest degree,
but a pompous ****** the name came to be;
only on the death bed, was he ever
earnest to curb his sophistry -
       and as said:
              nearing the abode of death,
              man stands undressed,
              in mind and body,
              the unlikely foetal kindred -
              naked, in the fluid of change -
              readied for the onslaught
              of the forever eternal flux.

iii. the three animals (laika, albert jr.,
&, why of course: dolly)
:

funny, isn't it...
           if there was a soviet darwin,
the soviets would have sent an ape into space...
but instead they sent a dog...
  
seems hard to find people with ape pets,
domesticated in the allign of a zoo -
    probably just as hard to keep a domesticated
money, as it is to keep a pigeon take
to a return roost...
hence the romanticism of space exploration
residing with the soviets, over the americans...
the world will forever remember
  a laika than an albert jr. (originally albert II,
but lets not allow aristocracy into the domain
of the lesser mammal) -
  and laika will always burn an imprint
into the mind, a dog always overcomes
the monkey in the here & now
                                 (dasein evolution):
but that's space taken care of...
what about time?
         none other than "alice", i.e.
     dolly the clone sheep... cloning
explores time... and dolly was the first
explorer of time, or the perpetuation of said
artefact...
                   do i sense a "humane" obstruct
being imposed?
         the frankenstein phobia?
               oh i think i'm right on the money...
with so much knowledge and so much
power at our hands, the collective man seems
only orientated around the carnal dynamic
of perpetuating itself around a dynamic
of pains and ills...
                       never the broad shoulder
giant looking toward the western continents
from the shores of portugal...
                by now we realise we're not
standing on the shoulders of currently-temporal    
giants... but on the shoulders of:
midgets!      
               as i a child i conjured up the idea
of the other A.I. -
nothing technological...
                  i actually thought of
insemination - and if auschwitz would still be
open, i might have joined ol' joseph in
the experiment,
but like a true scientists: beginning with animals,
i.e. impregnating a dog with human *****...
or a monkey with human *****...
obviously jo mengele would have
preferred the reverse, i.e. impregnating
a woman with the ***** of the already stated
examples...
                       well... in the dark aeons of
*******... hasn't anyone noticed the crude
representation of a white woman,
******* the phallus of a horse?
     ah... you weren't internet savvy in the early
00s... what with rotten.com.
Alexander Klein Oct 2011
Thou stars who burnést sore unto our realm,
Why lay such laurels cruel about our ears
And hail misfortunes from the noxious clouds
To break our will? Was it not thou, thou star,
Who shone the speech of Delphi on Aegeus,
Shone likewise on his simple mind when fail'd
To find the veiléd seer's second truth?
In deed, by words son Theseus was wrought
And carried newborn from the grasping surf
In soft-eyed mother Aethra's arms, whose face
Like sprite, which King of Athens knew. The boy
Grew warm and noble, olive branch and fig
Did blossom at his fingertips and fall
When hunger or desire reared their heads.
'Twas time of peace when shone your sister stars
That hang in clouds of gas or nebulae
Far from the grasp of Dodekatheon.
Shall not benevolent stars keep kindling flame?
Young Theseus did sail away, some spark
Of thee caught in the sky when Athens rul'd
By silent father missing roaming son.
Long passed the years when Echo was sole friend:
Repugnant Stars who drool malignéd light
Wax'd strong in endless cloak of mother night,
Bestowing jinx and turn of luck on man
And all his ways. Long pass the years till home
He sails! The slayer of the minotaur!
Victorious and bathed in Pallas rays -
Neglectful to the shade of trecherous sails.
O father, father! Where was thy patience
So long control'd when rul'd the world of men?
Chanced she on silver winds and flew to sea?
Or swallowed by thy famished heart in grief?
Or was't the curse of evil stars that led
Thee to thy end? O, there are none who know.
Pay heed, thou stars, for still Aegeus fled
To coast, and from the stony precipice
Lay ancient eyes on blackest slaver's sails.
On oracle had he but thought again
The pain of murdered progeny be dulled
In falseness and in truth, and he'd have stayed
Still breathing on that windy cliff. And yet
The meddlesome magic of vexing doom
By constellation born caused tears in him
Who had birthed kingdoms into fiery being.
His sandles part from lip of cliff, he falls,
Belov'd of all the winds while through the air,
Until Poseiden's realm at last he finds
The greenest dream he ere had known. The reefs!
The fish! What sweetest realm is kissed by him
Beyond the veil! Those two great fathers meet
At last, both loving boy in ship above
Still goveren'd by the waning stars of hate
But sailing on till morning come.
Natasha Apr 2015
Oh sweet Atlantic,
let me sink to the most deep
for when I am beneath your waves
funny, I find it easier to breathe.

I find my unearthly paradise,
everything is suspended in
exquisite animation, for miles of
everlasting sea.

Sweet child, do you
understand the utmost power
of the tides?

They will take you anywhere and everywhere
with or without your consent in mind.

A wise woman once told me
an old native story,
about paddling your canoe through the
river of life.

There are people,
who try and fight the current
after a short while, they become
too tired to carry on;
thus, they are swept away on whichever
path the water may follow.

There are people,
who simply lay back
and expect the river to take them
wherever they want to go,
they expect, no matter what
it'll guide them home.
But, rivers have a mind of their own
and they are quickly swallowed
by the water as their canoe
shatters on the sharp river rocks.

Then, there are those
who learn to navigate the river
who know when to fight the current
to avoid the most trecherous boulders
and to also know when
the water is taking them on the
journey to love, bliss and nirvana
just around the riverbend.
More words.. teachings from my Nana.. life is a river
Gabrielle F Feb 2010
fifty years later



you girls wear their old dresses
over sky
blue leggings
lace
and fabric that smells
of lost time

you found them
in stores
with high ceilings
and a sloppily simulated
rustic vibe

you love your
waists tastefully
cinched
and collar bones
concealed

you twirl before
the full length
mirrors and
wish oh how
you wish
you could
have been born
then instead of now

everything
was so much classier!
the women
were a different
kind of beautiful

women
who smoked
in their bathtubs
cardboard hairdos
unraveling

women
elbow deep in
baking
soda and dishsoap

soft secretive
smiles overtaking
their
faces
as they rattled
through the
medicine
cabinet
for a snack
(twice a day)

pregnant again
for
the fourth
time
yet
thin as a rail
somehow

ghosts
in their own
skin

silent but
deadly

crying manically
because of
the smoke
in their eyes

choking gently
on the powder
all over their tight
lovely complexions

dinner ready
at six
sharp as a rusty nail

fantasizing
about what it would be like
to fall in love
with another woman

scuffing their knees
and showing the raw
skin off to all
the young men
with sunlight left over
from childhood still
swimming in their
eyes

or walking home
in the rain
without an umbrella
and having that be ok

slapping their
own faces
at such trecherous
thoughts

obsessing
over how
their mothers did
it with
so much **** grace...

but yes
girls
their clothes
were simply
divine
Ryan Seth Cole Jul 2021
The sun rises over the hills touching everything turning it gold. The dew rises from the cactus as the scorpion rises from it's slumber; surely a sight to behold.

  Another day has begun another story is yet to be told. For it has been written so many times it has became a story of old. But today is no different. It is the day the world was sold.

Our protaganist a young man is not carried by the plot. He is not conflicted by his emotions. He needs no changing of his thought. He instead drives the story forward with the unraveling of his soul.

He finds himself pitted between himself and the world. Like a tree that is battered by the wind refusing to fold. He is no ordinary man, he himself has a well defined goal.

Although his expection is not certain he has yet be told that the road ahead is trecherous; it is filled with opstacles and it has many holes.

His plan is to stand his ground and by no amount of money can this man be sold.

If you find this man to be unwilling to change, there is something you must know; this man has been here before.
This man has seen with his eyes just how the story goes.

His countrymen are in turmoil held captive by the idea that a tyrant would have complete power or complete control.

They suffer from hunger for lack of rations. They trust not one another for fear that they may delivered over to the one that is in control. They our desperate for a hero

But little do they know that one of them would spark a fire that would trigger a movement that no authority on earth could slow.

Rumors of his valor would spread across the land. Surely this is he that would take the stand. All to soon would the time be that a man would rise to power. That there would be a new king in the land. One who could break the powers and fairly distrabute the wealth by the turning of his hand.

The people were filled with hope while the weak could barely stand.

His movement grew in numbers his trust would cascade in the enemies betrayal amongst themselves. Even the powerful tyrant's minions would show support for this man.

The moment was here so fast as if it were controlled opposition. Now it was time for the peoples voice to be heard. It was time they take a position.

Put they're trust in man or support the opposition.

As you would guess the choice was all so easy, so many would say. Little did they know that would be when they gave what little they had left away.

Plunged into chaos for the people had been betrayed. This man was not they're hero. He was the embodiement of they're willingness to give it all away.

-RSC
A simple parable of trusting others to do what you must find in yourself to do.
Sometimes the beta has no choice but to be the alpha.
Jimmy Hegan May 2016
RISING SUN  RISE UP THE SKY,
BE LIKE A RISING SUN AND BRIGHT IN THE  WORLD,
BRIGHT YOUR HEART WITH  NEW  WISHES,

WAKE UP FROM YOUR DEEDS,
WAKE UP FROM YOUR SINS,
WAKE UP FROM YOUR OLD ROUTINE,

BREAK UP  YOUR BAD HABITS,
BREAK UP YOUR WEAK MINDS,
BREAK UP  YOUR EVIL THOUGHTS,

DRY UP  YOUR CHEATING SKILLS,
DRY UP YOUR BETRAYING HABITS,
DRY UP YOUR TRECHEROUS  MIND,
DRY UP YOUR HATING SKILLS.
NARRATED BY JIMMY S HEGAN
Kody dibble Feb 2015
"Remember how the naked soul
Comes to language and at once knows
Loss and distance and believing"

Note excerpt: W.S Merwin

Finally free to converge and confess,
The Love I digress to take or leave,
In my own way and form I think,
For today was lost sadly to a planet,
Eating trecherous meals,
Lonely nights awake fighting,
Illicit mentions,

Forms of being so lost to idea's and
Trusts so real it will cost everything,
Ideas and decisions left untraceable

For I am a cold thought of you,
Before you were as I was
Lost and afraid


We may come to love knowledge our knowledge more than the thing known

Theologia Germanica

From C.S Lewis Weight of Glory
Love light peace
Gabrielle Diaz Oct 2012
Theres a wind
present in each
of our lives..
The calmest breeze
can blow people
right into our path,
and a trecherous one
can whisk people away
in an instant.
We're all just
leaves in the Fall,
and only the
wind
knows all.
Sneha shenoy Oct 2017
That dark night I realized,
Thou art vampire
Piercing Thy long sharp  teeth into my heart ,
Thou hath fed on my love
Draining me right from my heart
Now that I have no love left...
I beseech thou to set my heart free from Thy trecherous darkness ...

I'm scared not of love but of vampires disguised As innocent person..
Jimmy Hegan Feb 2016
WHERE IS JUSTICE AND PEACE IN WORLD ,
CHEATING ,  BETRAYING AND  ***** POLITICS  ARE TOP  PRIORITY OF HUMAN MINDS,

WHERE IS LOVE AND FAITH GONE FROM MARRIED COUPLES ,LOVER'S AND  FROM THE WORLD GONE ,
HATE, CUNNING  MINDS AND TRECHEROUS THOUGHTS & MIND
TAKE PLACE IN HUMAN LIFE AND NEEDS.
WHEN WILL WE RECOVER FROM OUR OWN EVIL WAYS,
WHEN  HUMANITY WILL COMPLETELY LOST THEIR WAYS AND DIRECTIONS.
HUMANS ALWAYS TRY TO REPEAT THEIR MISTAKE AND SINS EVERY DAY.
NARRATED BY JIMMY HEGAN
Jimmy Hegan Feb 2016
You make me Feel Proud,
Proud sometimes make us proud,and sometimes make us shameful sinner,
Live life without proud,
Take beloved ones care without proud,
Rise up in life with unconditional  love and faith,
Do not demoralised  other in your proud,
Be simple and sober in your life,
Stay away from proudyness ,trecherous minds and sinners,
Never forget yourself in deep proud,
Proud makes you away from your loved ones,
Mind it and stay away from it.
Narrated by JIMMY HEGAN
River Apr 2017
cherish those people you meet
that come and go
like rivers meeting rocks.

rocks may change courses of rivers
which channel and push the river
through its trecherous surface
thank them for their guidance
as the river rapidly races
through the course set before them.

but do not forget
the smooth
calm
soft
rocks
supporting the river
quietly absorbing and listening
to the babbling brook above
may the river pass over these rocks,
gently shaping the rocks
softly whispering
thank you
as the river runs it course

think of the kindness that rocks pass to river
for with no rocks to lead water
water would be
still
quiet
motionless
but even in stillness there is beauty.
Delirium Jul 2017
What ails you, o youthful soul ?
An indelible writ, some trecherous dole?
The delusion, that is fate's generous design;
Or, some disowned yearning, you repine?
There, in the depths of the unseen
Athwart the moist groves, lush and green
With mirth flows the meandering brook,
Glistening with myriad shades, forbear, look ...
Here is an ethereal solace bestowed,
Unbreached by woes, is this tranquill abode.
In this serene woods, unspoken and kind
Abounds, what you desperately seek to find;
A moment's succor, a touch of the divine...

And what grieves you, frail, senescent being
The gloomy dusk, past the bountiful spring?
Mayhaps, the meagre share of ill-spent time,
Some futile persuits, worth not a dime...
There in the glades, the pansies bloom,
Gleeful, sans a hint of imminent doom,
Come summer; when spring shall fade
Those gay petals shall wither, ashen and dead
And yet they bloom, though death is nigh
The unassailable fate; do they ruefully deny?
The wherefores of being, who can wholly discern?
Well, dust we were and to dust shall turn...
In earth and clay shall our being, to eternity sublime.
Nature, where the solution to all our woes lay...
Dan Shalev Apr 2018
On a cold foggy morning in the ****** dunes some leagues from my home I rode down a path unknown.

The trecherous sand pulled the wheels of my bicycle down into the earth, deterring me from completing the upward climb towards the top of the promising dune.

With my feet in the sand and besieged by fog, I surveyed my surroundings and found that I was completely alone.

Weakened by the arduous journey through the dunes and unable to cycle, I pushed the bicycle aside and dropped on my knees to face the sand.

Alone and halfway up an unrelenting dune, I was overcome by a sobering reality that shook me to my core; the elements care not for our humanly struggles and, with no warning nor a shred of notice, could, and likely will, decimate us.

With renewed strength and strong will to conquer the dune I picked my bicycle up from the sand and pushed upwards.

As I scaled the dune and finally reached the top, I gazed upon my surroundings panoramically, realizing the alarming yet beautiful reality; Though alone in parts unknown, I was surrounded by nature that embraced me and showed me its true beauty as reward for overcoming its many challenges.

With sand at my feet and fog all around, I no longer felt alone. I had myself and nature to keep me company, and that is all I needed.
This short story comes as a reflection and lesson I've learned after a morning riding through the ****** dunes close to my home.
Satsih Verma Nov 2018
Under a perfect moon. I
missed you at dawn in,
rain dance, when stars
were going to hide.

Beyond midnight, you
were not supposed to stay
in my dreams.

Oh, was it the time
to drink from the falling
dew? Can I blend the nature
with your eyes?

The days were trecherous.
You were not going
to curve like a rainbow.
It was a good old art of swaying.

When you run short of
appropriate words to describe
the dilemma, you start
counting the folds in the currain.
Michael Luciano Nov 2020
Batton down the hatches, baby.
Their bringing in the heat.
Theres a man with a sign in his hands
That says  " The end is near". Take heed
They are coming in with a quickness
Can't you hear their thunderous roar.
Droning from the sickness equipped
with a dirt **** bed of sores.

Shutting up the shutters to keep
Out the trecherous storm.
Bumbling about conspiracy
I've Concocted from the cream of corn.
I know one thing for certain
We will together weather this storm.
No longer stand for the perpetual motion.
As we improvise explosives for the norm.

— The End —