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judy smith Nov 2016
Whether in Montreal, where she was born and raised, or in Delhi, where her award-winning brasserie sits, the stylish chef’s love for gastronomy has always run deep. She came to India to chase her passion about eight years ago, after leaving behind an engineering career and having trained at the esteemed ITHQ (Institut de tourisme et d’hôtellerie du Québec). In 2014, she introduced unusual combinations like oysters with charred onion petals, tamarind puree, and rose vinegar when she became the first Indian chef to be invited to host a solo dinner at the James Beard House in New York City. Also presented there was her very own coffee-table book called Eating Stories, packed with charming visuals, tales and recipes.

In pursuit of narratives

“I am studying Ayurveda so, at the moment, I’m inspired by the knowledge and intuition which comes with that, but otherwise I completely live for stories. Those of the people around me — of spices, design forms, music, traditions, history and anything else I feel connected to.”

Culinary muse

“I truly believe that nature is perfect, so I feel privileged to use the ingredients that it provides, while adding my own hues, aromas and combinations…it feels like I get to play endlessly every day.”

After-work indulgence

“My favourite places to eat at are Cafe Lota and Carnatic Cafe in Delhi, and Betony and Brindle Room in NYC.”

Dream dish

“This salad I created called ‘secret garden’. It’s so beautiful to look at and has such a unique spectrum of flavours…all while using only the freshest, most natural produce to create something completely magical.”

Reception blooper

“Most people make the mistake of over-complicating the menu; having too much diversity and quantity. Wastefulness isn’t a good way to start a life together.”

A third-generation entrepreneur from a highly distinguished culinary family, she runs a thriving studio in Khar where state-of-the-art cooking stations and dining tables allow her to conduct a variety of workshops and sessions. Her grandfather is remembered as the man who migrated from Africa to London to found the brand that brought curry to the people of the UK — Patak’s. She took over as brand ambassador, having trained at Leiths School of Food and Wine and taught at one of Jamie Oliver’s schools in London. What’s more, Pathak is also the author of Secrets From My Indian Family Kitchen, a cookbook comprising 120 Indian recipes, published last year in the UK.

Most successful experiment

“When I was writing recipes for my cookbook, I had to test some more than once to ensure they were perfect and foolproof. One of my favourites was my slow-cooked tamarind-glazed pork. I must have trialled this recipe at least six times before publishing it, and after many tweaks I have got it to be truly sensational. It’s perfectly balanced with sweet and sour both.”

Future fantasy

“As strange as it sounds, I’d love to cater my own wedding. You want all your favourite recipes and you want to share this with your guests. I could hire a caterer to create my ideal menu, but I’d much prefer to finalise and finish all the dishes myself so that I’m supremely happy with the flavours I’m serving to my loved ones.”

Fresh elegance

“I’m in love with microgreens for entertaining and events…although not a new trend, they still carry the delicate wow factor and are wonderfully subtle when used well. I’m not into using foams and gels and much prefer to use ingredients that are fuss-free.”

This advertising professional first tested her one-of-a-kind amalgams at The Lil Flea, a popular local market in BKC, Mumbai. Her Indian fusion hot dogs, named Amar (vegetarian), Akbar (chicken) and Anthony (pork), sold out quickly and were a hit. Today, these ‘desi dogs’ are the signature at the affable home-chef-turned-businesswoman’s cafe-***-diner in Bandra, alongside juicy burgers, a fantastic indigenous crème brûlée, and an exciting range of drinks and Sikkim-sourced teas.

Loving the journey

“The best part of the job is the people I meet; the joy I get to see on their faces as they take the first bite. The fact that this is across all ages and social or cultural backgrounds makes it even better. Also, I can indulge a whim — whether it is about the menu or what I can do for a guest — without having to ask anyone. On the flip side, I have no one to blame but myself if the decision goes wrong. And, of course, I can’t apply for leave!”

Go-to comfort meal

“A well-made Bengali khichri or a good light meat curry with super-soft chapattis.”

What’s ‘happening’

“This is a very exciting time in food and entertaining — the traditional and ultra-modern are moving forward together. Farm-to-fork is very big; food is also more cross-cultural, and there is a huge effort to make your guest feel special. Plus, ‘Instagram friendly’ has become key…if it’s not on Instagram, it never happened! But essentially, a party works when everyone is comfortable and happy.”

A word to brides

“Let others plan your menu. You relax and look gorgeous!”

This Le Cordon Bleu graduate really knows her way around aromas that warm the heart. On returning to Mumbai from London, she began to experiment with making small-batch ice creams for family and friends. Now she churns out those ‘cheeky’ creations from a tiny kitchen in Bandra, where customers must ring a bell to get a taste of dark chocolate with Italian truffle oil, salted caramel, milk chocolate and bacon and her signature (a must-try) — blue cheese and honey.

The extra mile

“I’ll never forget the time I created three massive croquembouche towers (choux buns filled with assorted flavours of pastry cream, held together with caramel) for a wedding, and had to deliver them to Thane!”

Menu vision

“For a wedding, I would want to serve something light and fresh to start with, like seared scallops with fresh oysters and uni (sea urchin). For mains, I would serve something hearty and warm — roast duck and foie gras in a red wine jus. Dessert would be individual mini croquembouche!”

Having been raised by big-time foodie parents, the strongest motivation for their decision to take to this path came from their mother, who had two much-loved restaurants of her own while the sisters were growing up — Vandana in Mahim and Bandra Fest on Carter Road. Following the success of the first MeSoHappi in Khar, Mumbai, the duo known for wholesome cooking opened another outlet of the quirky gastro-bar adjoining The Captain’s Table — one of the city’s favourite seafood haunts — in Bandra Kurla Complex.

Chef’s own

AA: “We were the pioneers of the South African bunny chow in Mumbai and, even now, it remains one of my all-time favourites.”

On wedding catering

PA: “The most memorable for me will always be Aarathi’s high-tea bridal shower. I planned a floral-themed sundowner at our home in Cumballa Hill; curtains of jasmine, rose-and-wisteria lanterns and marigold scallops engulfed the space. We served exotic teas, alcoholic popsicles of sangria and mojito, and dishes like seafood pani puri shots and Greek spanakopita with beetroot dip, while each table had bite-sized desserts like mango and butter cream tarts and rose panna cotta.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2016 | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
ethyreal Aug 2013
continuously tripping
over lightly treading
toes in the black
night of a torn
sky where the
heavens tweak
trialled tears to
trace your
muddied jaw line.
Paige James Dec 2012
when asked upon a foggy day
what change could make me go insane,
I dearly thought of what to say
and knew the answer would be my love.
it's never been tested, trialled, or taken,
a measurement truly immeasurable
a feeling in me that hath not been shaken,
the reason being he is the one.
he's the sunshine behind the clouds of my mind,
that never fails to come through
who's  caring, understanding, and a heart so kind
pulls me out of a place dark and blue.
two souls intertwined, no physical power could break,
hearts that beat together always in sync
the most beautiful thing the world could make,
were you and I, our hearts and minds.
those things that make us so alike,
in a scary amount of ways
will also be the things that light,
the path to our wedding day.
your humor never fails to crack a smile on my face,
no matter how bad, rude, or
derogatory, condescending towards a race
but we  make those wrongs a right and we're happy to our cores knowing not what we could ever want more.
your character makes to me a wonderful muse,
after all you inspired this poem
you will not hurt, curse or use
me for of course you're too far above.
our love could  fill an endless room,
in any of many creative ways
which is why you are my lovely groom,
and I the bride to be.
all this talk of marriage
might have some think we're carried away,
well we are just a little but nevermind that
each  of us is here to stay.
we profess our love each morning and every night,
you never leave my arms
I'll hold onto you throughout your fright
I'll calm you down with many kisses there's no need for alarm.
when together all we do is sleep,
our bodies just know to do it
and you have my soul to keep
forever and a day or as many as you'll permit.
I'll read to you our favorite Poe ,
as you cuddle up next to me,
this is how our love still grows
more immense than all the seas.
we plan to travel everywhere we can,
but home to me is only with you,
no need for a map we have our hearts that tell us the ultimate plan.
knowing him  better than he himself,
you let your true emotions show
knowing all of your thoughts and secrets
but never letting the world know.
there's not a day when I don't think of my love,
he takes care of  me through everything,
I can't keep my tongue from speaking of,
all the greatness he contains.
he is more talented than the great minds so far,
and amazes me with each new day,
I can still hear him play the guitar,
when I drift off it comes that way.
my heart is  his and his be mine
6 months so far and still so little time
unconditional through each reason or rhyme,
soon enough he will be mine
and no one will ever take my love.

youre the best thing to happen to me
with your completely unwavering love
yours mine til end of time
and forever and ever beyond

this list could continue
believe me it could
but the lone stranger
asked me if I would
save her this story
for another time
when she needed some shine
like a profession of mine
Sam Hain Oct 2015
She dwelt within the dripping wood,
    Beneath a drooping sky:
A boon for Evil, a bane for Good,
    The harlot had to die.

She didn't drown, but should have drown
    For her own Soul's dear sake,
When trialled by the nearby town
    That burned her at the stake.

O.O
captured in the psych ward the cool heavy metal fan winds up being captured in the psych ward



you see while ron is busy in his hdu trying to look after everyone, in werribee, there was this man

playing heavy metal really loud, and the real **** of a bloke came out to complain about it

the heavy metal fan told him to get nicked and put it up even more louder, and this bloke rang the

police and the police came down in 45 minutes and the heavy metal fan said, dude, i am only sharing

the music i like the best, and it is good music he said, but the police said, TURN IT OFF, and when the

heavy metal fan refused and also spat right in the cops face, and the policeman grabbed him and

put him in the back of the paddy wagon and sent to the lockup, when he got there, he stopped swearing

and became suddenly good, actually forgetting about why he is there and this prompted the police to

put him in the HDU, saying he is a danger to himself and others, but he became very defensive when it came

to defending his music, he punched charlie chaplin and patty roe, for saying his music is crap, and ron

went into his room to try and get his name, and he said it was axil slash bone, and ron didn’t believe that

was his real name, but it was hard to get his real name out of him, so he called him axil, and ron said

do you know why you are here, and axil said, i was listening to my cool heavy metal music and this big fat

rich ***** came over and threaten me into turning the music down, i refused because heavy metal is made

to be enjoyed and ron said, have you been on any medication in your life, and axil said, medication, are

you calling me crazy, only crazy people take medication, and ron said, well, for what i heard, you might need

something to calm you down, and axil yelled out THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME, and ron said

maybe not, but you have to control your behaviour, axil told ron to get ****** saying, i am not like these

******* in here, i am a cool heavy metal fan who deserves a break, ron was prepared to break it for a while

but at dinner he yelled at the dinner table threatening to bash charlie, saying, you are crazy, you do know

that your not fucken charlie chaplin don’t ya, charlie said, leave me alone you idiot and except medication

and axil picked up a metal knife and started chasing charlie around with it saying come here ****

come here ya bleeding **** and charlie yelled out, HELP ME, HELP ME, the mad man is after me

and ron gave axil a shot of ****** and put him to bed and went to the nurses office saying axil needs

to be trialled on medication, he won’t like it, but we might have to convince to him, his behaviour was

disruptive and needs to be placed on a drug, so when the dinner dishes were picked up and they

bought out the sandwiches for supper, then ron bought out the medications and he had some risperidal

for axil, and when he reached axil, axil yelled so loud, I DON’T WANT ANY MEDICATION, THERE IS NOTHING

WRONG WITH ME, and ron said, yes you do, and you are going to take this medication even if i have to

force-feed this down your throat, and axil said, why do you care so much, all i was doing is playing loud music

there is nothing wrong with that, ron said, you got aggressive with the man, so the police bought you here

and while you are here, you must take medication, and as he did it, ron said, what is your favourite music

axil said, i like AC/DC and twisted sister and WASP and guns and roses, and that is where i got my name from

and ron gave him the medication with a glass of water and left the HDU and went to the pizza hut, to buy a super

supreme and retire to the couch to watch TV.
Marshall Gass Mar 2014
I have walked......
I have walked in the footsteps of dinosaurs
bruised and barbecued in the minds of generals
who strode the earth in the shadows
of empty politicians, who finally said:
I follow orders.

I have been trialled at Nuremberg
and World Courts by panels of learned men
who asked all the right questions but
were debated to defeat by fishhook questions
that derailed the course of justice by cunning
and unscrupulous men who decided
I was better alive than dead
by their careful questioning. Checks?

I have been at war with my neighbours
and nieces, friends and fraternity,
families and fence builders and all the while
I stayed indoors in my mind
and familiarity not asking for
redemption or resurrection
but tranquility.

I am human. Thats all it is.
Human.
Anonymous Apr 2014
Bro
In the safety
Of sanctity
I deride and derail
Snort derisive
Sweet Jesus and me
Laughing at everyone
Especially you.

All that image
All that you planned
Sure and He's everywhere
Watching the water rise
Estimating your worth
Cashing in on you.

Your van and your force-fed crew
Nobody ever wanted to out and out *******
But I think Jesus has had enough
And He's going to lose you in the rough
The rough, rough rain
Like a hurricane
Gonna call your number up.

This pigeon on my shoulder
You call Jesus and He strolls on over
Say your piece and He shrugs nonchalant
I don't believe you have anything He wants.

You're just a stupid ****
With ten times the luck
And Jesus sees you
You better believe it, Bro, you are seen
Jesus snorts derisively
Jesus snorted all the coke outta me.

He attempts to reiterate
Love thy brother and grant fresh starts
But chokes on the dust
And laughing hysterically
Points meaningless fingers
At what He thinks might matter.

Jesus is as Jesus does
A man subscribed to most of this mess
Having a good ol' time
His direction is half the crime.

It could be
It could be, Bro
You been walked down some line
Told this, this, that, and have a good time
Lied to and trialled, smiled at and lied to
Eating some man-made celestial ****
Yep, that's you.
Bible says it's true
So true
Bible says a lot of ****
Lots of ****
Yeah
That's you.
Now seeing this view of the Evening Sun
Well-Wished Voices found their best slots to chant
And you on-seat, wrinkle upwards for fun
Whilst lovely Sailors lay their hymns incant
Or should I say, Sailorettes? That which so
In-differ whichever lingam you choose
Despite your bath of rose-petals they own
Enough to turn your Manly Flavours loose
How true time-trialled these Fancy Trends trend
From whose Life the Weary Market en-cash
Their Choice - yours - feed on your Fashion depend
Then ask your Shirt reprieve your flesh to bask.
Never have my Signals wired to restrict
Whichever Circuits your Engine remits.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Tryst Nov 2016
Selene's bright torch cast light through blackest night,
Unmasking gaped ravines in jagged rocks
That plunged down seeping cracks to Hades lair.
Mist-drenched ice-laden claws of winters bite
Tugged, scratched, gnawed bare cut fingers to the bone,
As limp, up mountain *****, the straggler climbed.

His face, a mask contorted by ordeal,
A coney cloak adorned his weathered back
Bent low by weight of many a mortal sin,
And hoof-like feet hid snug in blackened boots.
Half-shuttered eyes attested to the cold,
Whipped without mercy by the frigid wind.

Vile taunting voices mocked him from on high,
Each screeching laugh, an arrow to his spine,
Pointed reminders to his dismal plight,
Urging him up with heart-filled hatred pain
That surged like Zeus's lightning through his veins
And pushed him on to scale fresh heights above.

They spied, with venomed eyes, his trialled ascent,
Shifting from foot to foot to ease the cold,
Waiting till blood-drenched fingers stretched in vain,
Then leaping up on wings of patterned bronze
They took to flight, squawking in wild delight,
To see him slip, then stumble to his knees.

His failing arms flailed madly at the birds,
Hopeless to reach, lest Zeus should grant him wings,
And there upon the jagged mountain peaks
His tested will was hacked, cleaved, scattered wide,
As she who passed before and took his mind
Now lay, in darkened places of the world.

From deep within his cloak he pulled a flute
And shook the reeds, and rattled with a din
To shake the Gods within their hallowed halls
And of his fury, none has ever matched,
And fright took taunting voices from the birds
Who fearing for their feathers, swiftly fled.

Alone atop the world, the flute he raised
To tight pursed lips began a mournful air
That trembled over freshly fallen snow,
Recounting days forbidden love was chaste
And chased in answer to his endless lust,
Unsated by his many mortal sins.

Each fluted note sang long unto the night,
A serenade to all Selene had bade
Into her light, and then upon the wind
A voice as clear, as bright as Cygnus, came
In answer with a song like as his song,
So mournful that it crushed his broken heart.
Being the sixth ...
Middle Class Jun 2015
Those old school friends with their cigarette lips
They don't think of the likes of me or you,
Up on the golden screen.
We weren't quite quiet or reckless
We trialled in something temperate but restless.
Something we bore down to bone,
A noisy belief in man, blurred like a Monet, believed to be etched in stone.
But those old school friends, like you and I, had frames to contain their Icarus flight.  Now, follow on in your new momentary monetary monastery you now call home.
The curious truth is the note is a note regardless of the flute. The credits close, the air stalled, and most rigorously life itself cares not for the "who", but slitheringly moves on.
Deep in the gloom of her bedroom,
Young Kathy dried her tears,
It wasn’t as bad as the red room
She’d been banished to for years,
At least up there she could lie and dream
And play with her music box,
Not hear her parents arguing,
Whether they did, or not.

At least up here was her sanctuary
Where she could dream all day,
Of skipping out in the poppy fields
Where all the children play,
She’d lie there nursing a broken heart
For the loss of her former life,
For all had changed in her home, The Grange
When he took a second wife.

When her father took a second wife
And his face became so grim,
It seemed she couldn’t do anything right
For the sake of pleasing him,
The woman snapped and the woman snarled
And she said to call her Ma,
But Kathy had kept her lips shut tight
That was just one bridge too far.

So she lay and opened the paste-board lid
And the dancer, up she leapt,
Straightening out her toutou as
She tried one pirouette,
With one hand up to her forehead and
The other fixed and set,
The dancer twirled in her private world
To a Mozart minuet.

And Kathy thought she was beautiful
As she balanced on her toes,
A look of grace on her tiny face
And the flush of love, it shows,
With glitter up in her auburn hair
And a spangle on each shoe,
The thought had formed as the doll performed,
‘I wish I could be like you!’

‘I wish I could be like you,’ she thought
‘So small, and full of grace,
I’d never have to go down again
With tears on my face,
I’d wait till somebody wound me up
Then I’d dance for them with pride,’
And something happened to Kathy then,
A change that she felt inside.

For all the while that the dancer twirled
To the Mozart minuet,
It took in Kathy’s tear-stained face
And it seemed somewhat upset,
‘Why should she have this lovely room
And a life that I’m denied,
I wish I could be like you,’ it thought,
And the two thoughts did collide.

There seemed a change in the very air
Of that too secluded gloom,
When everything with bated breath had
Stopped in that fated room,
Then Kathy leapt to her feet with joy
And a final pirouette,
While the dancer smiled as at first she trialled
To that Mozart minuet.

The father arrived back home that night
To a scene of blood and gore,
His wife impaled with a table knife
Lay dead on the kitchen floor,
While Kathy twirled in the poppy fields
In a show of poise and grace,
And there in the bedroom, up above
There was blood on the dancer’s face.

David Lewis Paget
Nigel Finn Nov 2015
I suppose what I was looking to achieve at first was to end my pain. It really is as simple as that. Just a rather ****** "**** it! I give up!" sort of feeling. I didn't like myself anymore but neither did I dislike myself either. It's a hard feeling to convey if you've never felt it, although i've never been comfortable with people suggesting I was "numb". "Numb" is how the doctors got me to convey such feelings and no doubt in the confusion of the multiple changes of doctors, nurses and support workers (It was an average of a different doctor every 9-10 days for the first two months), coupled with the no doubt hastily scribbled notes and vast amount of paperwork on me being handed around, it was probably taken literally on a number of occassions (and perhaps, in the official records, still is). It is not, I feel, a good word to describe how I felt.

Everywhere and everything was a source of feeling. I was just sort of balancing it all out in the middle. I'd still have the majority of the days emotions ticking along normally (well, i SAY normal. At the time it was pretty much rage, hatred and severe depression but at least I have words for these!).  I still have no way of accurately conveying what i mean in words but i think the closest way i can get to describing it is to say it is like a sort of emotional version of simutaneously trying not to think of pink elephants whilst trying to turn yourself into a pink elephant and the feeling you get in between not being asleep and waking up. I realise that that's still wholly unaccurate but hopefully it describes things in a way that's at least understandable, although probably still not relatable.

Those feelings changed somewhat after what was my fourth attempt to take my life. Fourth attempt - fourth method of hastily induced death. I had chosen that particular night a large cocktail of drugs consisting of (if memory serves me right) about 20-30 Quietiapine (200mg) (an anti-psychotic i was being trialled on at the time that also induced sleep), roughly 50-60 hydroxzine (25mg) (an anti-anxiety drug which also doubles as an anti-histimine which reduces the nausea experienced by overdosing) and probably in the region of 150 or so co-cadomol (500mg) (a rather strong painkiller).

It seemed I had all I needed to end my life. I walked down to the park at night, sat in the gazebo and started to take the pills with some lucozade. It wasn't exactly a sombre moment but it wasn't like I had anything exactly to be happy about either. It took about half an hour to take all the pills and that was taking them 5-6 at a time. It was like a sodding pill-popping marathon that i couldn't give up untill they were all gone. Then they were all gone and there was nothing left to do but wait.

Only as I was waiting, it happened. The only genuinely life-changing moment I ever had. It was like I could feel myself slipping away and a thought came to me. Words that, for the months preceding that moment, would've caused me to fly into a blind rage, to scream and cry and shout. Words that I had tried rationialising against for what felt like an eternity whenever they were directed at me. Words that from the mouths of doctors filled me with hate, and from friends filled me with tears now came to my mind both as old companions but now, strangely, also as new friends;

                                                              There's nothing more you can achieve...    

                                                               You've done all you can...

                                                               Move on...    

It's not a case of "I don't think i've ever been as happy...". I know i'd never been as happy. So much relief, so much tension in one fell swoop just vanished in the time it took to think a thought. I've experienced crying with happiness before but i sobbed that night. Big wails of happiness that got stuck in my chest if i tried to hold it, tears streaming like a tsunami down my cheeks and just so much happiness that i couldn't contain myself. I wanted to sing and since there was no reason not to i did, songs of freedom, songs that meant the world to me, songs i'd sang as a child, songs i'd made up, songs i was still making up. Imagine every problem with everything just dissapearing instantly. Every thing you've ever been even slightly worried about gone. That's were i was. I was IN THAT WORLD. It didn't matter if it was just in my head. It was real. It was final. It was mine.
A few years ago I tried killing myself.

Several times.

Iwon't go into detail about why i attempted this, nor will i attempt to explain why these events originally occurred (although, from past experience of trying to explain such things i've found that that is impossible with the limited vocabulary I possess and i have found nobody who can relate to or even understand in anything but fragments what i felt or thought (and still think and feel))... anyway, i'm blabbering on.

What I have written is not some chronologically ordered step-by-step account of a timeline leading to an event, but rather a story almost wholly made of emotions with the timescale jumping back and forth and possibly entering worlds that are new and scary to you, but which nevertheless are no less a part of the story for being so. The one favour i would like to ask of anyone reading this is to remember - it matters not whether the painter's eye was on the subject on not. It doesn't even matter if the subject matter never existed. The painting is real and its subject lives on in the canvas regardless.
Big Virge Sep 2021
I'm Saying Why Oh WHY...
In This Day And Age...
Does It Need A MANDATE... ?!?

To Make People Say...
Hey... I Should Vaccinate...... ?!?

Because of Claims...
That Corona Is A THREAT...
To The Human Race...
And Is Causing Deaths...
At ALARMING Rates... !!!

According To Our Leaders...
And Our Heads of State...
And Those Whose Job...
Is To... MEDICATE...
So That People Are SAVED... !!!

But Is It Not A Bit STRONG...
To Basically... DICTATE...

What People Should Do...
To Protect From This FLU...

That’s Right... A FLU... !!!

Shouldn’t People Choose...
Once They’ve Thought It Through...
And Got Substantial Proof...
That Vaccines Are Cool...
To Inject Into...

Their Bodies And Veins...
If They HAVEN’T Been Proved...
To Be... TOTALLY SAFE... !!!

Is Choice Now ERASED...
From The Human Race... ?!?

UNLESS You Want To Change...
Your... Gender And Name... ?!?

Doesn’t It Seem Strange...
That It’s NOT Okay...
For People To Say...

"That They’d Rather WAIT......."

Than To Be FAST TRACKED...
Into... Taking A Jab... !?!

I Really Get That Most Now Feel...
That It’s... NOT A BIG DEAL... !!!

And That Those Who Refuse...
Are Just Being OBTUSE... !!!

Or Just Being SELFISH... !!!

But Maybe It’s THIS... ?!?

They Just Prefer To THINK...
And NOT Be So QUICK...
To Accept Something...
That May Not Be Fit...
To Be... INJECTING...

Is It REALLY WISE...
To Take Something Advised...
To Be Protecting Lives...
When It’s NOT Been Trialled...
Over A LONG TIME... !?!

Like Say A Good TEN Years... ?!?
To Allay The Fears...
of Shedding Tears...
Over Losing Someone...
Very Close And Dear... !!!

Or Is FEAR What’s Behind...
Peoples Wish To Vaccinate...

FEAR of LOSING PAY...
And The Place That They Stay...
And The Freedom To Play...
... Outside All Day... !!!

And Of Course The FEAR...
of … NO MORE HOLIDAYS... !!!

Because of Claims...
From Government Names...

Who Have Been Found Out...
To Be Driving Around...
In Their OWN Lockdowns... !?!

NO Mandates Were Made...
For THEIR Wayward Ways... !?!

And ABUSE of Rules...
Initially Approved...
By Their Political Crews... !!!

So I’m A Bit Confused... ?!?

And What About These...
... Blood Clot Issues... ?!?

That... WEREN’T An Issue...
Before These Vaccines... ?!?

And... How Do You Know...
What’s Been Given To You... ?!?

Because It Has Been Known...
For Big Pharma To Use...
Products That Were...

... Actually BAD... !!!

Because Lawsuits Prove...
That This Is... FACT... !!!

They’ve Made Some Moves...
Just To Make Themselves Cash...
INSTEAD of... HELP Humans... !!!

So Folks Should Be Shrewd...
And Really THINK About That... !!!

And If They’re All Good...
Why Can’t They Be Sued...
And Face … Lawsuits... !?!

What Are They Scared of...
Something Going Wrong... !?!

If They Are So STRONG...
What’s The Big Problem... ?!?

With Accepting Liability...
For The Improbability...

of Something That Can Lead...
To... OPEN Testing...
As Well As INSPECTION...
of ALL These Vaccines... !!!

That They Have Quickly Deemed...
To Be What Humans Need... ?!?

But REMEMBER These Vaccines...
Are Because of... EMERGENCY.......

... Authorities Permitted...
While Mandates Aren’t Restricted... !?!

I Think That Something's Missing...
That Has NOT Been Submitted...

That Should NOT Be Omitted... !!!

The Fact That What We’ve Witnessed...
Is Vaccines Pushed With Quickness...
As If It’s Good For Business...
And BIG Pharma Making BILLIONS... !!!

I Get That There’ve Been Deaths...
That Have Made People SCARED... !!!

But.....

People Should BEWARE...
And NOT Be So Prepared...
To Run And Just Inject...

Vaccines Into Systems...
That Keep Us All IMMUNE...
From Things Just Like This Corona Flu... !!!

And Our Ability To Choose...
Should NOT Now Face Abuse...
Or EVER Be... Refused... !!!

Because of Fear...
Or A Wish To Adhere...
To Government Rules...
That THEY Don’t Stick To... ?!?

Does That Seem Shrewd...
Or Wise To Do...
For People Who...
Tell LIES To You... ?!?

But Hey...
That’s Just MY VIEW... !!!

WHY Fear Your End...
Because You CAN'T DEFEAT DEATH...
And EVERY LAST Human...
Has To Take Their Last Breath... !!!

At The End of The Day...
It Just Seems A Little STRANGE... ?!?

This SUDDEN Wish To DICTATE... !?!

Peoples’ Need To Take...
What They CLAIM To Be SAFE... !!!
  
If It’s REALLY OKAY...
For The Human Race...
To Now... Vaccinate... !!!

Because of What...
Their Scientists Say... !!!

Won’t People Just Take It Anyway ?

So Why EXACTLY... ?!?

“ Does It Need A Mandate “
Another interesting question for these days and times .......
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Seeing myself it's like a glass ghost,
         Can't look away from my own purgatory.

          This flesh cage that I can't break,
This knife bleeds nothing but red paint.

Set me free from this cruel unending,
          I was once so happy but to be trialled again.

         Can I pass your test and prevail once more? Let my eyes rest and stop.
This carving at my skull.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2021
we did it in the bath, we did it before a mirror... i guess we only didn't do it outdoors - only because... a swan at Loch Lomond turned us off...

that these have to be little autobiographical
sketches: for starters...

a life of no real consequence:
if i were magically thrown back in time
and allowed to bring
with me a book of plagiarisms
i.e. - so that i might be ascribed
the penmanship of a Descartes... etc.


i think i'd still only (bring): avec et seul moi...
i sometimes wish i bothered
to learn Fwench...
since Italian and Spanish were
never too much appealing to begin
with... only the deutschezunge could
have harrowed me more for
an impetus to learn...

acquisition of English was what it was...
thrown into the deep end...
learn the language, ******... or sink...
some prior knowledge via
cartoon network...
but not enough to have to remember...
the "joke" on my way
to the local swimming pool...
how puma: wasn't 'poo-mah'
but somehow 'pew-mah'...
****'s sake... if i wrote down phonetically
how i said something "wrong"...
the it would look like: pjuma...

i can't escape some escapades of life
so daft that i do remember me,
Peter Richardson, Kieran O'Mahoney
and what Ilford & South Park were like
come Saturday's afternoons...
like... having to hold your breath
when walking in between
the "batty man's legs"...
a road sign with two stilts...

most people don't have the energy to
write about such trivial matters...
i'm holding back a few details with
regards to Peter and Kieran...
as you do: for the cinema of memory
has served me well and enough: truly...
the time South Park closed and we were
rummaging in it after hours
like dwarfs of sort
and had to climb over the fence...
Kieran being overweight...
me and Peter managed as i remember
my youth was spent climbing trees...
but Kieran of course had to
mistime jumping over the fence
and managed to almost impale himself
on the fence... lucky for him it was by his
underwear...

truly life is too sweet to write about
such things...
best reserved for memory:
the cinema -esqueness of the project...
  
- i like the clarity presented after
the most timid resort to exercise...
making a journey that would otherwise
take 30 minutes +
via walking for a bottle of whiskey
in a peacock's tail sort of... enterprise
of running, walking fast...
gurgling excess phlegm... spitting it out...
harking aback... almost barking...

i abhor running... a pointless task...
no wonder i started to yawn
from walking... the initial project
dealt with... from circa 120kg down to 104kg
in under circa 3 months...
no more weight loss...
something more was required to push
the weight down to under 100kg...
so i could... remember how it felt
to walk down the road and
have eyes of the opposite ***
insinuate: fuckable...
i wouldn't really demand the 3-dimensional
version of the other traits
that come, necessarily with the load:

a life that's nothing more than
time loaned...
  once i spent ~£400 in a brothel...
     over 3 hours having asked a bank manager
for an increase in my overdraft limit...
faking a funeral... extra expenses: no one died...
so much so that at one point
i was asked whether or not i'd like
a ******* because i already exhausted
three... and maybe ******* twice:
but you never know when
you pull back your *******
and the "helmet" is purple-gleeful
like a bishops' parade blah blah
because that's all that love isn't
which is no bees, no butterflies...
just oysters, flowers... bourbon... octopus /
Hindu deities...
- and to think... the day my libido dies
and the day it dies and it wasn't...
mummified in something monogamous...
it wasn't trialled...
best of all... jazz hands...
executed by an imitation 'gina
       ever since one side: that did all the *******
would bellow: oh no... the women don't...
deer in headlights...
well if it is all "there" but there's no...
outlet...

- 3 to 7 working days for the delivery
of a...
    Trek Marlin 5 hardtail...
       and i guess i don't want to sleep because...
exciting thoughts...
a clarity of placing the body
on the rack of exertion...
or rather a change in perspective...
the distance covered via walking...
a marathon in under 7 hours...
from somewhere in the vicinity of
the greater london outstretch nibbling at Essex...
toward St. Paul's cathedral... and back...
but done... from the perspective of a bicycle...
or from said starter coordinates
toward Epping...

no point keeping this imagination timid...
a thought concerning...
Canvey Island... apparently anything on
a bicycle is... doable...
most certainly... yes... doubly doable...
the image strikes me
from the perspective of walking...
the great involvement of the dimension
of speed... which... in all honesty...
doesn't exist within the confines
of walking... unless of course days turn
into weeks and weeks into months
but man, not this man...
has that many allowances for leisure
of that sort...

some impeding "doom": or rather...
a trial of the wait per se...
even though: no clue as to why i'd wait
for the otherwise inevitable...

conversations in the night:
protection via the sphinxes...
toothless head turned into bull horns
chisel, ram, chisel...
that bonsai tigers have pupils
that have serpentine qualities...

oh to own a bicycle...
is almost like having authority of wind...
and all the flutes of the world...
my self-propelled mechanisation
of horse...
i sometimes wonder whether or not
horses are as friendly as people say they
are... after all...
a cat's bite or scratch is mostly self-invoked...
and thoroughly mea culpa proof...
but being thrown off
a horse's hind into a wheelchair...

paraplegic or whatever...
how friendly, how anything...
more care bound to befriending acorns...
clots of cloud... vinyl mistaken for
liquorice...
the whole shindig bedazzle frothing
at the mouth coup...

but a bicycle is remedy...
i can fathom it more than i'd ever want
to find use for a car...
perhaps a motorbike and all the zest of Zen...
but then from: wriggle worm
into a galloping gazelle
i'm a man that apparently walked...
will now have a second spine...
a variable of prosthetic extension
with no ghost limbs to mind...

well ******* on a whim wasn't readily available...
however much i tried not being
this: son of a mother
but in the grand scheme of things...
a detail of what's otherwise an abortion...
roulette femme...
by chance, by thieving...
by ******, alone...
by a butting in by some marker of solipsism...
by not appreciating anything
from orators akin to Seneca or Cicero...

one glorious **** and then i was out...
like a colt armed (with a) sharpshooter...
circa the months when i was 21...
****... now i'm coming to 35
and life... is still a stampede away
from Pompeii...
wasted or rather stalled...
i'm reaching into the depth
of shadow to find both dog and leash...
and all the other ***** toys...

****** and bicycles...
now it becomes self-evident... only now...
wish upon a star of lefty liberalism:
how does that comatose
spew of strict linear vocab-ulary go...
how everything is authentic... clarity prone...
locally sourced: teeming with
angel dust but never, at any posit of
required introspection... burdened by leeches
or mosquitos of the Christ metaphor
of slurping a bloodied loaf of: bwa...
of bread...

o.k. for now... marriage of oops
and bootlicking flukes...
dirt cradle and a hinterland of a hinterland...
hope for not having fake a day:
i.e. earned that deserving pause
of sleep: no dreams please... no dreams...
too many faces prop themselves up in
the juxtaposition of clouds
come the serenities of the night
that dreams... once cryptic...
by some standards of those who claim
to have found a new-architecture within them...

best without them...
        i would abhor waking up riddled...
i'll find something greying in obsolete come 4pm...
just after the children have made their route
sublime for an ease of breath...
from the school
of a posteriori and into the labyrinth
of a priori of home...
of inheritance "tax"...
              
yes... then and a somewhat stressed "now".

— The End —