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If I had a blog what would it be ?

Would I blog about twitting?
Tweet about texting?
Text about bloging?

Will I sip on an organic double frappuccino?
Will I miss MJ?
Will I have a tea cup Chihuahua?
Will I hate the hills?
Will I be dealing with   bulimia?
Watching TMZ?
Liveing green?
Will my iPhone my big sunglasses be in my   louis vuitton handbag?
Will all this be something to talk about?
Will it still be "in"?
Or will outher things that I hate take it's place?

Will my blog be overrated?
Or will only old ppl like it?

Or will it be, anti-social anti-fashion
I hate everything even myself
self mutalating artsie fartsie
wannabe rabel who are also AS over rated

whatever...

((If I wred this blog, I'd hate it))
I wrot this 2008, never thoght I'd post it anywhere
We read “Captain Hook’s collection of psalms,
And other songs to sing along to.”
Nothing better to do off hand,
But revel in our own arrogance.
And, we notched holes in leather straps,
To expand at the waste.
Drive through diets replacing lessons-
Of keeping elbows off the table.
Of speaking only when spoken to.

Twenty-one years plus a little change.
And, daddy says-
Everything I taught you is replaceable.
And, daddy says-
Mistake is a just a word.
Hasn’t got it figured out either,
At least he admits it,
Choking down another cigarette,
Says: here’s to now.
And, don’t break your back if you don’t have to.

Technology affords avenues
Different rivers to float experience
Overalls and baseball caps
And the tree house that broke my tibia.
Talked through tin cans in this age,
Of golden innocence.
Now I’m Facebooking and twitting or twittering
Or… who the **** cares?
No one I care about.
Rivers given way to raw sewage.
And, even dogs eat their own ****.

This cat called my computer a ******* box-
If the shoe fits,
Clichés get the hits.
Search: Blonde **** *******-
5 million 38 hundred and 2 results.
Neon Bibles erupt in the sky.
Today I am a believer in the quarter pounder with cheese
Tomorrow in gasoline for 2.85
Midas made gold
Now he wants to change my oil.
They call that economics
Or advertising.
And, suddenly my sneakers aren’t good enough

Voice on the other end reassures-
My ideas are manic.
Paint a scene of terror.
Laying waste to iron giants-
Tearing down systems in place to restrict
Setting fire to everything-
Rack it up to fulfilling.
Rack it up to rebuilding.
Dismal haze, red glow to ash filled sky,
That makes mom clutch the good book-
Saying its time to go home.
How she knows her redeemer lives.
Clarity reigns supreme
And, daddy says-
Son, you’ve been watching too much TV.
And daddy says-
You catch more with honey by rule.
Raphael Uzor Jun 2014
There was a time when
all times looked the same
passing through seamless
dawn of ageless drain
We sought, fought and
bought our freedom for an ageless price
At a pace that dares not to take away our
endangered race
But what have brought
this craze of dismembering
the maze we felt less safe in.

The incorruptible men who
once calmed the storm
are now cohorts of a demeaning plot.
Their role in a war of stakes
is a gusty grab for the frontline
as they tussle for the ratio of cake
a game they so delight in.
Exhausted in a place which
was once a timeless haven
as their dignity is torn in shreds.
All sorts of glory are lost
still no one feels this is a shared shame.

If only we knew the journey would abort halfway
but the signs were like flare from the start
as sides became drawn in clear spat.
Two hundred and more of our “prized cowries”
got snatched from our land and our leaders
cannot guard our streets because they say
the times are bad and the enemies are back.
Everything get soured and some of us are left behind
as limbs are severed high into the firmament of red horror
We go hash with our tag
twitting and chanting that they restore our girls
bring back our girls-we pray
bring back our girls- we chant
Bemused, the soldiers assure to search our lands
While Boko bomb us out from our very own sands
Tangled, mangled, limbs and bodies get buried in our time.


© Chijioke Izundu P
This is not my work.
Today I didn’t see those ever-so-close couple.
In the lonely forenoons
When you could hear the leaves fall
They were there
Like two devoted doves
Whispering in each other’s ears
The wonderful nonsense
Only lovers can indulge in.
Then they laughed like rustling leaves
Drowned in their own twitting
Without caring a fig for my presence.
But today was the day
When wrapped in my own aloofness
Walking alone in the rain
I sought those two.
Like the empty bench
I missed those tweeting two
Warming up a desolate space,
Scared they’re lost in life’s aridness.
I still remember,
We were working out on our chemistry
On our physics class
I still remember,
You were singing; syncing along with me
On our music class
I still remember,
We were chitchatting; twitting louder than the birds
On the tree
I still remember,
We were grabbing our hearts together with us
Almost everyday
I still remember,
We were late going to class after our date
On every Friday
I still remember,
Nights with the moonlight with you
On your lap
I still remember,
Every fights with you while flying high like
A kite with you
Lastly I also still remember,
Your goodbye reason said and paid for my love
Because I remember my expenses on you?
I still remember...
anastasiad May 2016
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CNC Laser Cutting Machine
Sydney hines Apr 2015
I sit with a crackling fireplace
Hit chocolate in y hand trying to forget the
Animals who can't seem to escape the harsh snow.
I sit twitting my thumbs with nothing to do
But fall into a deep trance about the beauty of summer.
I could feel the summer sun glistening on my
Sun kissed skin, sending giddy shivers down my back.
The saltiness of the ocean dancing in my mouth
Make me crave the water on my skin even more.
As I walk up the beach the sand squishing
Through each toe every step I take.
The presence of freckles scattered unevenly across my face.
My hair as blonde as gold flowing in the swift wind.
As I sip a drink made from strawberries,
The birds overhead shirt in absolute unison.
But then, I look out the window and see the snowflakes falling,
And my wishes for summer calling.
Odonko-ba Aug 2016
death
follows me closely
while life
retreats into shadows
shunning
gnarled fingers
of winters hand

my heart
palpitates a lonesome song
a ponderance of youth
yearning days of old

where children play
in  bright summer fields
and laughter
is caught
in the bubbles they blew
lifted
with the wind
bursting of sunshine giggles
covering the land in smiles
as the scent of moms apple pie
sent children scurrying home...

i feel death's chill
twitting my memories
mockingly reminding...
that my home
is with him now

as my eyes
fell silent
and my heart
cease to beat
into
    the
         shadow
                   i
              descend
jeffrey robin Nov 2015
.



Politcs

is the

LEGITIMAZATION

Of

VIOLENCE

••


Political Science

is the study of how that

LEGITIMAZATION

occurs

And to what

Purpose

The VIOLENCE

is used

•••••

So here we are !

Pretending some form of

POLITICAL ADVENTURE IN DEMOCRACY

is taking place !!


//


We are totally uninformed

As to the true nature

Of the events transpiring

Around us !!

We are

USELESS
POWERLESS

NARROW MINDED

little twits !

We are mere playthings of those who manipulate

The forces that ultimately control us completely !!

>< >< ><

Yet

LOOK AT THE  ******* MONSTROCITIES

OF HUMAN EXPRESSION

WE

SO - CALLED


" POETS "


( in our SELF - AGRANDIZING stupor )

Produce

( especially the pathetic ****

That makes it

The DAILY )

really are!!

///

As if our

Deep !

Sincere !

Magically transforming !

so so sensitive !

words

Are even remotely

Relevant and real !!!!

//

Useless twits uselessly twitting

//

Just cause you got your pants down

And got someone's genitals inside you

Somewhere

Don't mean you are

Naked !

Raw with emotion !

Facing truth !


//

(Yeah

Even dogs ****

But at least they have some dignity ! )

••

VIOLENCE !!

Violence !

VIOLENCE !

//

( being LEGITIMATIZED ! )

//

Useless twits !

//

How can you love a useless twit !

( you can't )

2 useless twits ******* is not love

The description

Of a useless twit *******

Another useless twit

Is not a

Love poem !

( no matter how you try
To
SPIN

the ultimate failures

Of your lives ! )

••

Super shape - shifting words !

( no no !

Just useless twits ******* !



******* UGLY




.
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Flit To Me, My Pretty
or Dance Of Kinglet

Sing, “tay-tay-tay,” all the day
carry on in morning sun
bouncing on sandy stream banks
Kinglet friend of mine
Your yellow crown, breast of cotton down
O be lost daydreams so fine

This is what twitting really is
Euphoria found in flash
discerning your small “tay”-ing song
milkweed fluff you find
act as if you are stealing, no crime here
milkweed glad; spread seed as kind

Wash yourself amidst these puddles
preen yourself for mating
You’ve made a nest for nothing other
how sweet your callers come
rock a vantage point of eternity
from here we see all succumb

This rock and I
Hamed M Dehongi May 2019
She didn't do anything wrong
Her love for him was so strong
They used to listen to folk song
Many happy memories for a long
She thought this she could prolong
That they can be happy for a lifelong

She was wrong!

Once in a sudden, she caught him cheating
With who, do you think he was meeting?
She found out this when he was twitting
Her best friend for a long he was meeting
Not only for once but always repeating
She hadn't done anything to deserve cheating

Except being trusting!
13:20 - Wednesday, May 29, 2019
van Young Oct 2018
Does the moon mourn
After the current day dawns
Exposing the deepness of a blue soaring sky
Causing quasi questions in the form of the wayward why

Why such a mysterious bulbous blue
Why such a deep hallowing hue
Does the moon mourn
When the sun starts to spawn

Some Thursday morning eyeing a ready race
The mirror shows the usual and customary feckless face
A mindless ritual often fills the busy area around the table top
Between texting nothing and following other conspicuous consumption reaching a full stable stop

And how does this apply to the magic moon
Which is not cheese so no need a stupendous sized spoon
Some of us wonder re alimentary alienation
While sitting and twitting about the companion moon’s satellite station

Does the moon mourn
As stars start to fawn
Matching a moment of a somnambulistic state
Allowing its’ gravity to push and pull the flow of water from a timeless surreal place in space

Does the moon mourn
As each new day dawns
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
perhaps one of the last few glitches in
the youtube algorithm...
i once mentioned the channel
    hakiri ditari...
               looks like... 666MrDoom is feeding
me up-to-speed 2020 releases...

beside the point...
           brain for fudge... packing...
no exoskeleton to crawl into and become mush...
even if... ms. amber dresses herself
in a cancan attire of a bourbon tongue:
slick...

no real geometry for a god, no god...
thought... here: jigsaw says 'ello...
      and bye-bye...
           when the body is fully retailed...
for the debt to be paid...
for the worth of day...
when all bones are given the ol'
arithmetic... and some new muscles
are discovered: that... "once upon a time"
were treated like mollusks
on the dodo-pact of exodus from existence...

a snail exists...
   i, man: insist...
          a vicious cycle...
          a stone a moon a sea simply is...
a snail exists...
i, as man: insist!
               the golden calf is coming...
i'll look more mediterranean by the day...
i'll become indistinguishable from
the... libyans... or the greeks...
sacarcens or... whatever float me boat:
that particular day...

   lucky me... vamp in december...
i truly can't remember when i last sported
a farmer's suntan!
i'm... white?!
         pass the porky crux of burn...
avaricious suntan...
          suntan... not heretic... antynom...
ah!                    fa'n'ah'tic!
       suntan fanatic... briefly...
               this year... because?
what a strange spring we've been having in
england... no one can remember
such a glorious april! no one can cite
to memory: such a blissfull may!
              i'm white as a... what remains
of the boar: through a pig...
and into what becomes leather... shoes...
and a leather belt...

   everything is treated as an economic gain:
everything: except for the oink...
pig ears are a delight in manhattan... apparently...
if only the pig had...
   crude... camel... hardened toes:
well... you wouldn't eat them...
or bite your own...
bite your nails but find gagging mechanisms
when it's not a fly... but a hair...
floating in your soup...

                 exoskeleton of the body...
or for: the body... god, thought, soul...
sorry... i was too busy today...
i was so into using this brilliance of a...
    magnusson hand-saw...
that... well... it looks like i "forgot" to
check my "other" blood-pressure...
or... i want to reach the point of maturity
where jerking off will be too boring...
where: like today...
the hand can be used for better things
than checking for impotence...
or... frost-bite on this tundra of love in:
zee...         westliche länder...
   hyphen? westliche-länder...
no hyphen compound? westlicheländer?
hyphen? westliche-länder...
no hyphen compound? westlicheländer

i.e. heidegger ponderings VII
"aphorism" XXIII...
         'why do the french have an academically
governed language'

i was just about to ask a... similar question:
why is english a shotgun (shrapnel)
of german...
  moreover: why is german a chemistry-noun
enterprise compounding fudge-patchwork?
more so: why are there remains
of german in english in chemistry...
only there... are there blatant distrusts
of hyphens...
                       dihydrotestosterone...
in english...
              freundschaftsbezeigungen        
in dutch deutsche: no... no dutch...

hyphenated / compounded... myopic i...
    shrapnel 'oi! over 'ere!
                     painting and... laying bricks...
contra...

  hand-saw? well... that could be up for
an oxford dictionary consideration...
the first stage is an inquiry for a hyphen basis...
hand saw has to make entry as: hand-saw...
before it can tease... the german...

    hand saw / wood saw...
                      either way: shrapnel at first:
petition to the oxford dictionary:
it might get a hyphen: precursor to the proper
compound...
                       handsäge / holzsäge...

handsaw / woodsaw...
                   umlaut adam-isch:
ä - yes... sage and thyme (surds of bindi) -
and rosemary... sa'g'eh...
    rose mary: rose-mary: rosemary...
                   all that is required?
a plural article and a pronoun:
    i saw hands!
                        past participle of: seeing...
a mime!
            and no mimic... eh?
tough little brandenburgian-chesnut to
swollow: since: the proverb states:
if the swallows are flying high in the sky:
no chance of rain for tomorrow...

i tried to dissect a liter of bourbon
into 4... the best i could get away with was
a portion of 3...

the old germans and the new germans:
the prussians...
and the otherwise shy germans
of austria with the hungarians
in their bosoms...
to remember: when the prussians
and the lithuanians were the last
pagans of europe:
and the teutonic order...
having pickled barbarossa went back
home...
where to: mein herr?!
east: north... tease the rus!
           such is this old matriarch
of a continent... i have no expatriate
sentimentality of the english
fior italy... or the new found cheese fetishes
of the ****** women for...
i'm so obscure when it comes
to love affairs with the p.i.g.s. -
well... yeah... even greece...
                    rozpierdol mnie na serbii...
albo... macedonii... lepiej!
wrak na krymie! lepiej jeno nie wiele
lepiej!
    
      will there every come a time when
i'll fall in love with Warsaw?
        will there be a time...
when i pass through it...
   and not feel... like a paranoid schizophrenic?
east end of london...
    i submerge myself into what
a h. p. lovecraft couldn't stomach of
new york... and... no... none of that
eerie oddity of...

from under the iron curtain...
it's a make-shift of a sicilon veil and:
that joke about how copper-wire
was invented: two scots scoubbling
over a penny - stretching it...
and of course... the pandemonium
of the pill in rubber...
the hounds from under the iron curtain...
if only i was looking for
a marriage meme... if only:
most certainly - and love brings with it
that sort of certainty -

   you have to excuse me...
lost all ambitions to express a freedom
of speech with a video...
i much like kierkegaard's posit of what
writing allows:
where... is... the megaphone?
to write is to escape the often bout
of thought: beside the "narrative" of thinking
and its mingling with claustrophobia...

"too many" ukranians and mongols
in the parts of warsaw i've passed...
   and that... is hardly this...
disneyland of bubblegum and pink that
london provides with its...
deserving reach into...
how did the raj indians survive if not
bribe their way out with well-above-average
culiniary-skills?!
the spaniards and south h'american gold...
gold contra the spices...
blah blah...

ever hear a greek speak and forget he was
either greek or speaking greek
and think... outlandish of me... i must be...
speaking to a spaniard...
lisp signature 'ere... lisp signature v'er...
****-oh-little-me...
this world is too big for my little problems
and conquests of...
     propensity! it's like...
watching: four weddings and a funeral...
thinking that england, circa 1994...
was some sort of mythological land...

       i was ate... back in 1994... and i was in
Ęgland... yes: ******* liberals with that N
of yours... have your way with it...
Napelon or Nig()er...
bounce bounce: siamese twins:
twiTTing... giGGling...
                                                       gaLLoping...
     because... like... "never"..
   N-Dynamite wasn't a depiction of...
                        jeffrey dahmer -
the lesser: more sedated "if only" scenario...
"orthography": or a tux without
a bow-tie scenario...
because i still think of orthography as:
it would be desired...
to have some diacritical marks...
since... hydra: the hovering d(.)t
above... can be cut...
and there would be no clarifying certainty as
to a... noticed "difference"...
ȷokıng asıde... ȷust lıke so...

   mind's split: and the apostrophe?
a susan: i don't know...
well... cyrillic... please!

                Wojcicki (what's apparent)
                Вoйćıцkí (what's being revised; as...
                what's being: under- / over-stated)
    
         and no cyrillic! doubly please!

perhaps in exile - perhaps just scouting -
perhaps less an immigrant and perhaps
none of them: the above...

                             ottomans for supper?
anemic anglo-saxons for aperitifs?
                           right now...
                            "elsewhere" confirms
the same concerns for crux...
vector status as might: "being" and a "here"...
here: da... and now: jetzt...
                               clearly...
       some words as just pardonable in their
confines of english... they might as well
become relegated to the status of myth...
clouds... psychiatry and / or...
a spectacular gem to behold...
   not in real life... but in the acted
representation of a james murray...
                    
               this is hardly a medium to
bemoan... or to call forth lacklustre scrupules
of indolence... to breathe...
with these words... in a limbo of libido...
and what's happening "elsewhere"...
how shouldn't i pay a visit to a recess
of my mind... and make clusters of
a memory that erases all that comes forth
as... pitiable justice to further a hope
for eloquence... without all that:
of a desired / yet derided...
                                             etiquette...
the straitjacket contra the liberal arts
of attire... the catwalk seen-by-the-other...
the god the mystical "other"...

                    does... peeling an apple...
slicing it...
take away the joy... of eating it... with
each bite... with the skin intact?
Yenson Nov 2020
And they are still insisting
they won the elections to be human
that anything to the contrary is fake news
and twitting furiously that grievous frauds is in play
stating convid 19 is nothing cause after all they are viruses
so they would know if there are other deranged virulent viruses
they will not be vacating any white houses because they're theirs
and
they'll be taking matters to the Supreme Court of of the Creator
they further stated
they won't sleep but work morning noon and night
and would make black the new orange
and cancel that name George
finally they will build a wall to stop blacks from doing anything bad
because they are leeches and parasites
The Supreme Court will rule in their favour they insist
because they will make humans great again
Satire that I just discovered in my notebook, I think I wrote this in middle school in 1804.Excuse my laughing, something caught in my throat. I a returning to the gulag now, yes, I am still laughing....

— The End —