"yar" poems
Khanjar Hain Teri Aankhein
Talwaar Hain Teri Aankhein
Zinda Na Rehne Dengi
Ae Yaar Teri Aankhein
Your eyes are like a dagger
Your eyes are like a sword
They will not let me live
O' beloved eyes of yours
Ae Nargis-e-Mastaana
Allah Tujhe Rakhe
Rehti Hain Tasavvur Mein
Har Baar Teri Aankhein
O' possessor of drunk eyes
God keep you in His preserve
Enduring within my imaginations
O’ forever are eyes of yours
Yeh Bolti Aankhein
Bhi Afsaane Sunaati Hain
Rakhti Hain Zuban Jaise
Ae Yar Teri Aankhein
These talkative eyes
Speak of many tales
As if, they have a voice of their own
O' beloved eyes of yours
Humne Teri Aankoon Mein
Allah Ko Dekha Hai
Iss Par Teri Aankein
Uss Par Teri Aankein
Within your eyes
I have seen the Lord
In every direction
O’ are eyes of yours
Chehre Pe To Ghussa Hai
Aankhoon Mein Muhabbat Hai
Karti Hain Mere Dilbar
Iqraar Teri Aankhein
On the face anger is exposed
But love is within the eyes of yours
Revealing O’ sweetheart
Unity, are eyes of yours
— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
He was only three foot tall, but
He wanted to be like his
Famous daddy
"The pirate" long bob
Plated
Silver
Toe
A renowned pirate or so
He told me.
So he looked around the house
to what he could find,
A hook was out of reach
As it was dangerous you know,
it could take an eye out
or if trod on cut your toes,
He would have defiantly have shed a
Tear
Or
Three,
So he found a spoon, not
Gold
or
Silver
Not plated precious,
It was copper it would have to do.
So he put his hand up his sleeve,
Holding the spoon quite
Menacingly,
I'll scoop your ice cream
From right under your nose,
One scoop,
Two scoop,
Three,
"Ill bounce the bowl upon your head"
"Then run so you never knows it was me"
"Who had eaten your desert from"
"Right under your nose you see"
He giggled and smiled a child's grin,
What next does a pirate need to be
"King of the sea"
A hat he thought,
As he looked around his fathers hats
Covered his head,
He walked in to
Table
&
Chair,
For it was to big over his eyes,
He was unable to see.
He bounced Off the door, the bed, the
Window sill too, with holes cut he still
Was unable to see properly,
So he got a sock with a patch on the heal
Putting it on his little head
looked in the mirror amused
By what could be seen.
I need one more thing
To be like me pa..
A ship to sail the high sea,
But he was only tiny 3 foot tall was he,
So he looked around
Finding a table in the yard,
Discarded but could be used by he.
"A sail was needed"
A table cloth tied to the back legs
To catch the gusts of wind yar see,
A crew was needed??
But there was only room for
Him
And his parrot
Reginald,
*******
*******
He would squawk at me,
A I dry one given and a pat on the
Head from me.
I was known as a captain on
My
Green
Sea,
Plundering the apple tree
The raspberry bush
All the berries were now mine
That I could see,
I wanted to be like my father when I grew up
But lets be realistic I'm three foot
"I'm four and three months"
Who would be scared of little spoon pirate me.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Each of you.
My individual singularities, Dad’s One Thing.
Conceived 1955.
Driven home, progeny, made man, unequivocal, indisputable.
Post-war night spirits undaunted ~ stop ******* me.
*** for you, stopped me.
Can’t make it the way you want. Please stop.
Backing off, I respect real you.
Don’t push me Me.
Don’t dream.
Will dream us.
Short sentence for guilt whisked way beyond what crime could be.
We combine beans and seeds and gourds.
That’s science! Culinary!
Botany, true, but I’m enaturated.
Human pod progressed.
If that’s a word, don’t dream it’s not.
Forget every word.
But make each and every word count.
Then add stash, socked away.
I concede.
Mi casa su casa.
Paint it.
Together.
Made mistake then fixed it.
Copasetic dovetails, my lady and me (not I).
We walk talk island jib.
I like the cut of your yar across the moonlit pool.
Go around with me to all haunts, snow globetrotting shaken not stirred
My déjà vu in futurum videre, I can’t believe.
Asunder goddesses should be together,
While Isis and Osiris boogie like Beatrice and Dante encircled,
Their own private imbroglio invaded
By Goth end time alchemists conjuring copyrights for gelt.
You tell me this short story.
I cringe.
My mind clouds men’s, and then conjures Morpheus.
My shadow child joins me in Paradise,
Deliria dancing in concert with Shakespearean intent.
My daughter’s got more guts in one pinky
Than all that fallen pilot on our island bargained for
In the games that decided who’s hungrier.
You could have been that gal.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
Ghazal
Usky wo paon ki jhankar meri toba hay
Lag rehey hay koi ootar meri toba hay
Jaisay khushbo koi deeray se guzr jati **
Aise hay shukh ki raftar meri toba hay
Ishq ko log samajhtay hain darra sada hay
Rasta yar hay purkhar meri toba hay
Ishk main lut gia jo pa gia wohi manzal
Aag se piar ka izhar meri toba hay
Husn ko dhondhna mehnga hi parra hay humko
Hay tamasha sare bazar meri toba hay
Jurm bus itna tha bus bhr kay nazar dekha tha
Mehr ab dar pa hay dar meri yoba hay
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Hath Par
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:10 AM UTC
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
No monument stands over Babi Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid.
Today I am as old in years
as all the Jewish people.
Now I seem to be
a Jew.
Here I plod through ancient Egypt.
Here I perish crucified, on the cross,
and to this day I bear the scars of nails.
I seem to be
Dreyfus.
The Philistine
is both informer and judge.
I am behind bars.
Beset on every side.
Hounded,
spat on,
slandered.
Squealing, dainty ladies in flounced Brussels lace
stick their parasols into my face.
I seem to be then
a young boy in Byelostok.
Blood runs, spilling over the floors.
The barroom rabble-rousers
give off a stench of ***** and onion.
A boot kicks me aside, helpless.
In vain I plead with these pogrom bullies.
While they jeer and shout,
"Beat the Yids. Save Russia!"
some grain-marketeer beats up my mother.
0 my Russian people!
I know
you
are international to the core.
But those with unclean hands
have often made a jingle of your purest name.
I know the goodness of my land.
How vile these anti-Semites-
without a qualm
they pompously called themselves
the Union of the Russian People!
I seem to be
Anne Frank
transparent
as a branch in April.
And I love.
And have no need of phrases.
My need
is that we gaze into each other.
How little we can see
or smell!
We are denied the leaves,
we are denied the sky.
Yet we can do so much --
tenderly
embrace each other in a darkened room.
They're coming here?
Be not afraid. Those are the booming
sounds of spring:
spring is coming here.
Come then to me.
Quick, give me your lips.
Are they smashing down the door?
No, it's the ice breaking ...
The wild grasses rustle over Babi Yar.
The trees look ominous,
like judges.
Here all things scream silently,
and, baring my head,
slowly I feel myself
turning gray.
And I myself
am one massive, soundless scream
above the thousand thousand buried here.
I am
each old man
here shot dead.
I am
every child
here shot dead.
Nothing in me
shall ever forget!
The "Internationale," let it
thunder
when the last anti-Semite on earth
is buried forever.
In my blood there is no Jewish blood.
In their callous rage, all anti-Semites
must hate me now as a Jew.
For that reason
I am a true Russian!
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
Oh Glenda (Miz Gee gee)
years elapsed since, I didst hawk
verboten fruit adrip
from yar verdant bough,
thy strong craven raven
doth still twitter and flip
sans thy testosterone switch,
where woody pecker missus grip
ping re: egret ting prospective
relationship nixed thee
as gull friend material, hip
mistress, though heron eye did pay lip
service verily orgasmically quip
yes...wren doer ring
more'n commit Freudian slip
which peeping cardinal tip
towing thru nested tulip trip
gave balled oriole peck whip
ping lil *** pistol be
friending chirping ***** riot
inserting thingmabob
after pants sigh did un zip.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Egg gad unlike rob bin duck cradle
yar mature red breast all aswirl
asper a stationary dreidel
mammary ducts mine mouth pursed
yar ******* mine gums did ladle.
Only in memory, aye
hungrily thirst and thirstily hunger
fort deux aureole dye
still affecting this gab
bird, who didst deign
as milquetoast guy.
Whenever this birdman alone
his thoughts metaphorically drone
worm wayward toward
***** thatch, where
hello kitty doth purr and groan
of quintessentially
***** coiled hair moan
ning softly as thee
bared naked lady lies prone
admiring pinkish puckered
def flesh tone.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Meray wajud main yun mera yar raqsan hay
Kay jaisay shukh faseelon pa piar raqsan hay
Nazar hay jati jahan pa wohan hay wo mujod
Kay kis tara say chaman main baharraqsan hay
Jo bhar kay dekha usay ab naheen hay apni khabr
Magr nashay main hon main tar tar raqsan hay
Jo sar main suda samaya watan parasti ka
Hazar rah may ab dekho dar raqsan hay
Na jalti ankhain jalao ka buj na jain kaheen
Ka meri aankhon main bus intizar raqsan hay
Hazar rang ma hay husn piar yak ranga
Ka rang rang main bus ik hisar raqsan hay
Mai Mehr la gia bazi wo ** *** meri
Ka meray charon taraf purdadar raqsan hay
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC
The seas of pain whine
Bashing into crags of doubt
Bones--
The planks that creak upon
Collision
Sea foam fills the
Cracks
The ship is sinking
"Yar she blows!"
The capsize of the soul
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 11:28 PM UTC
create a golden route for a poet like me,
let the embodiment of song carved itself
in the palms of the world beyond till lyrics
of faith light to ease the thought of my mind.
If you die before me, tell papa not to cry.
the shrine he left in my hand is still well
planted in the imaginations of his generations.
tell Fela &Giwa that Nigeria is no better,
tell Chinua Achebe that the water in our
throat cries of dry ground they stepped on.
we may not be a better cinematographer
capturing the deeds of this land but your
still photos can crop some timelines to go
with you till I come along to join your trail.
if you die before me, send a word across.
let me know the existence of heaven & hell
if Shakespeare & Okigbo & Buchi are there
so I can change course to path my emotion,
the artistic photography of the tales of hell
are the codeine conscience of anxiety in us.
we die before the masquerade halt in the air.
Husky tears would I drop on your grave
to be taken to Mandela & Luther King.
there are roses I will take from the clay ***
Of my father to your graveyard to give to Ify
my hearted lover in the morning of miracles.
if you die before me, this tattered call would
I make to our ancestors for a perfect survival.
this land is a disco dance hall you must tell
Yar'du of Fate & tears crossing our eyes
in a patterned way to be christened life's joy.
this land is a feminist like Chimamanda A.N,
this country is a pun star you must tell Ken.
tell my cousin Ezekiel to wait for me longer,
I am coming. to join him in benedicted rein of
our country.
If you die before me, I'll be on your graveyard
for a life time cracking up the foundation of
the world to find death. I will ask him if the
other phase is better than here before coming.
suffering is not meant to be dreamed twice,
Two week-ed weaknesses are the wink wires
connecting our lives in a radioed embryo .
this is my recap
a captured scene
Let's bake life and dreams
till death call us all to himself
then the world becomes empty
love finds love mingling in hands...
die before me & be my eyes beyond.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_frustration.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Macbeth, Doctor Zhivago, Captain Call, Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Allen Ginsberg, and Rod McKuen Visit the Dentist but Have to Wait for Beowulf's Root Canal
In gratitude for all the wonderful dentists, hygienists, and
technicians who keep us chewing!
Macbeth Visits the Dentist
Is this a drill which I see before me
The whirring drill outstretched to my teeth
O happiest gas! Come let me clutch thee!
Before my body I throw my dental shield
Dr. Zhivago Visits the Dentist
Poor dental hygiene is for crowds of mediocrities
Only individuals seek dentistry
And they shun those who tolerate bad teeth
How many things in the world deserve our loyalty?
A dentist whose papers are in order
Captain Call Visits the Dentist
Call saw that the dentist was looking at him
The nitrous oxide drained out of him
Leaving him feeling tired
“I hate a bad tooth. I won’t tolerate it.”
Yevgeny Yevtushenko Visits the Dentist
For a tooth to come out
Some of the pain must be devoted to Stalin
Soviet dentistry demanded happy endings
I knew I could floss and brush better than Mayakovsky
Bella’s teeth were second only to those of Akhmatova
Only I could make Babi Yar all about me and my teeth
When I saw a dentist in Zima Junction
I saw the truth of the Revolution in her little mirror
Allen Ginsberg Visits the Dentist
I saw the best teeth of my generation destroyed by sugared sodas and a failure to brush and floss
dragging themselves through the medical complex at dawn looking for a fix
thinning-hair old hipsters burning for relief from aching jaws at the healing hands of dedicated professionals among their shining instruments
dedicated professionals who did not drop out of the University of Arkansas and never saw Mohammedan angels among the rooftops
Rod McKuen Visits the Dentist
I am like a molar; I have chewed alone
Gnawed a hundred hamburgers
Never found a bone
Still and all I’m toothy
Reason is you see
Once in a while along the way
Dentists have been good to me.
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 11:23 AM UTC
A vast Land, dotted with thoughts and Ideas,
Scripted in Hand, Penned with Altruist Zeal.
Paragraphs Written in Hills, and in Valleys,
Taking a Path through Drama and Passion.
Leading you through Dark City Alleys...
To Scenes of Crime and Dark Actions,
Cowered in Fear, Shadows Causing Reactions.
You feel your Skin Crawl at the Draw of a Knife,
Shocked at the Sight of a Passing Life.
You Cling to the Arms of the One you Love,
The Feelings between You from Heaven above.
The Pleasure you feel at the Touch of your Lips,
As the Wind ***** the Sails of a Yar and sleek Ship.
True love Flares up at the setting sun,
And Finally the Poems End has Come.....JMF 1/12/15
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No bright star
To light the place,
Or show the spot
Where she was shot.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No cattle shed
In which to hide
Or manger to rest in,
Just a ravine,
Dark and obscene.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No angels sang,
Least none was heard
Above the din of guns
Or victims scream,
The stuff of nightmares
Not of dreams.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No shepherds came
In awe to adore
From a distant hill,
Just chill winds
Which bite
And gnaw.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
No magi came
With gifts
Of frankincense,
Gold and myrrh
Or eloquent words
Or talk of a star.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
But soldiers came,
Brutal and brusque,
With SS signs
To mark them out
With bark and shout,
And their guns,
Sticks, kicks and box
Of killing tricks.
Anna died
At Babi Yar,
Beneath no star
To light the spot
Where she was shot.
Just a ravine
Dark and obscene.
Anna died
At Babi Yar.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Top notch legal scholar Erin Go Braw
(less concerned about being fair versus
abominable, irrevocable, and execrable
unforgivable oversight most holy "M" & *****
cabinet of high priests,
sans spelling chieftains ready to claw
your person to bits,
and they presage remote clemency
which decision told, when Jeff Sessions
decides final punishment to draw
now, (see excerpted lines
visited with glaring flaw
"Benediction For Lord Apple Macintosh"
where ...bot sized wetbacks, setbacks,
and drawbacks, required a secret char),...
intimates a "hee haw"
and rock'm n sock'm pull no punches
square at yar triangular jaw
YES, on account misspelling,
whence Grammarian Jude Law
at the least aims (to topple a prospective
title of eminence grise), banning access
to such undeserved
catbird seat, sans Rhetorical perch
laughing while ja plaintively call for maw
**** Oxford English Dictionary - but naw
can do, and hence paw
mister trumpeting
"FAKE" wordsmith raw
flesh will turn into....
unreadable print until closing text
that elaborates how holiness felt vexed.
To ye (a freshly minted scalawag),
these 20/20 eyes bulged agog
while steaming with invective
at what attempted
to pass as sacred poetic blog
when thee (Matthew Scott Harris),
now pronounced, an illiterate,
immoderate, and inveterate å!@#$%∑
with a severe cerebral clog
(meaning prefrontal lobotomy
not out of the question),
you m~r mangy whelp of a she dog
(my humble apologies to canines),
less deserving than being
whipped near death's doorstep flog
after henchmen (strongly
resembling Alaskan BullWorms
guarding this royal hutch,
herein Cupertino, California.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 2:46 AM UTC
the upshot constituted a figurative straw
that broke the virtual camels back
where yours truly fingered as scape goat,
who meekly, passively, and subserviently
felt the stinging crack
of wooden, smooth,
and oblong paddle and stands pat,
asper innocence, though now
(myself more than two score years
orbitz around sun) remains more defiant
for purportedly causing Roberta -
not her real name flack
and clears that blot (now a composite
of petrified spitballs) as a hack
writer of poetry, feels jilted like Jack
donning many major protagonistic ruffian knack
nursery rhyme roles, which fables never didst lack
for upstart precocious, kickstarters impish grin,
as if he just wolfed down a swiped Bic Mac
and goose that laid more than one golden egg
McMuffin running from the Giant,
with spindle shank for each leg,
and sliding down the beanstalk, which didst peg
world wide web Marathon record
suddenly the envy of Queequeg,
which way word ness
far off course from the theme of this work,
hence hold tight
to hazmat bag of **** pin jay dreck,
while poetic license allows me to twerk
intended story aye (captain...
oh captain) moost not shirk,
lemme reel yar attention
back to the classroom of missus Labosh,
hood didst whistle and perk
unbeknownst to me, my scrawny derriere
unaware what quaint, hence danger didst lurk
for letting passivity
find me singled out as the bona fide ****
wishing Moby **** could swallow
hook, line and sinker
with a slight even Steven crane
of his neck, every mother plucking bird brain classmate
deemed Scott free, and Chutzpah didst gain
while this smart *** wannabe took a crash course,
sans weltanschauung "Artful Dodging
Spitball Shooting Maven" in the main
quite heavy on Physics and Trigonometry as became plane.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
this Democratic Party affiliated member i.e.
considered (with an eye blink)
positing the following blurb
for a very short while
asper the "FAKE" trumpeting
oaf fish shill offal
continuous, indecorous,
and poisonous barbs doth re vile
me, an anonymous middle aged
concerned citizen at thee...reptile
no...no...that, would
unfairly debase creatures such as
snakes, lizards, turtles, or alligators,
whose aggressive acceptable modes,
one expects tubby non servile
thus in my mind hiss non diss incriminating
cruel, fiendish, gallingly jawboning
mawkish philistine (YES, I
MEAN YOU DONALD Quisling TRUMP)
figuratively roasting
respectable people analogous
to rake them over hot coals
then, burn them at the stake,
which witch trial characters assassination
with point blank expletives
found an introspective chap (yours truly)
responds to broadcast
unflattering sentiments,
albeit swiftly tailored harried, yup,
yar...obnoxious fulminations rile,
said brief explanation motive enough
(occurred within a split second)
after gleaning most recent denigrating,
hurtful, lambasting puerile
verbal and/ or twittering outbursts
(MOST DEFINITELY) unstatesmanlike
at least to me: a circumspect enlightened
genteel individual kind nattering
nabob of nativity, who feels alarmed
at venal wickedness by thee ->
President Trump spluttering, smoldering,
slandering gallimaufry
predicated predictable awfully banal,
cringeworthy diurnal,
and fiercely hurt locker ful invective bile
perhaps indicative of dementia praecox
or smother mental illness,
ye would immediately refute,
and be in din aisle.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
Oy Vey Smear -
More'n' $500.00 For Car Repair!
Hence mine plaintive strut forward
doleful poetically lamentable
forlorn shell shock mental state
Hyundai deniably forced
me to absorb, sans
requisite auto repair tab
this (Sonata kidding) reality
steered me sigh key -
wracked (in my pinion)
into abysmal suspension tooting horn aye
didst painfully, palp
ably, and pathetically,
(albeit mutinous on bounty of life)
envisioned good bye
regarding woebegone condition
wallet sadly, how checking account
suffered near mortal blow -
cents less lee principally reason cry
ying yup possibly heard, asper
the doll la bills blues and die,
perhaps hastiness dashing
off metrical missive
blindsided, clouded, and obscured
wheely tired call for Eli
(schwa sound) to whisk
this mister where angels fly
essentially taking Matthew
Scott Harris goodbye
from money shortages, away high
yar into the outer reaches
of the twilight auto zone
yet...deep down I dear
lee would rather engine ear
a rescue attempt by claiming fear
less flyer self as charity and gear
legitimate funding to help
a worthy cause, but such chutzpah,
would be here
see within thy coda,
dogma, and car ma,
thus eye shed headlights for
"NON FAKE" truth to app pear.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
peak skill wafts milky aroma from ******* Eros they win
an apt pupil dial lates with a twin
thus…two orbital allies – seek carnal *** sass sin
while sunk kin their sockets, they scan yar scenic skin
drawing interest sharp as a pin
while testosterone pump kin
not cease…thus juiced hum ma gin
slicing ether of sea like an ocular shark fin
past yar eyes darting from toes ta chin
where ****** fantasies shift their shape
letting daydream let me lips braise the nape
of neck before shimmying with invisible escape
resorting to atavistic antics per great ape
within me twenty first skein of muscle and bone
especially verboten iced creamy country where
this pal wannabe wants to drone
and in fair weather or foul would pine to hear ya moan
upon me milking tropic of cancer as ye lie supinely prone
regaling tulips and rivulet dribbling over miniature mossy stone
aware when proboscis nearing bulls eye by your purring tone
ecstatic I located an erogenous zone
mentally book marked careful not to slide nor slip
a live as one googly eyed earth linked yahoo excites
pheromones on the outlook for purr act perch per verboten trip
could don role of aim mesh applying his little buggy whip
of ca horse heading to bird in hand
*********** paradise or some other place grand
dill a quaint as would be surmised as this animal
a carnal, excitable, guttural one-man band
seething with hormonal secretions
unfairly forced into a coe wide dill cell bait
coveting to reach the integral female bad land.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
Ka mike an ce karkata
Kai! taka an ce tatata
Yaushe ne rana za ta?
Gani na abokin ta wata
Ba rana, sati har wata
Tun da na hango yar wata
Mata daga gefe na kai mata
Hari dan na nuna bajinta ta
Ai ko sai tayi mini raf ta ta
Ta rike hannu na me kanta
Sai ta ja ni cikin dangi na ta
Tai ta nuni ga dangi nan na ta
Baba yayi murna babu karkata
Umma ta taka yar rawa ta ta
Don murna har da kawa ta ta
Maganar aure ce na yi mata
Tun da fari ta dauke kai nata
Ta bi son rai da kawaye nata
Mai kudi shine a gaba nata
Na manta har da batu na ta
Rana daya sai ga kira na ta
Gaisuwa ta Mahaifi na tayi
Ra'ayi, sauyawa ta sa na yi
Tausayi shine da yasa nayi
Kan batun labarin da tayi
Zuciya ta raurawa nan tayi
Tausayawa zuciya ta nan tayi
Na amshi batun ta kuma za'ayi
Takure kai na duka ni nayi
Do na nuna bajinta da ra'ayi
Na kudurce aure ne zamu yi
Yan uwa murna duka sun tayi
Fatan alheri an ta yi
Na ganin auren mu da za'ayi
Gashi nan dai auren an yi
Tun da fari fa zaki ne yayi
Dandanon madara duka yayi
Har Zuma da madi duka yayi
Daga baya ta sauya ra'ayi
Na shiga uku na kara uku
Bana son na shige can kurkuku
In na kara shiga uku sau uku
Apr 9, 2022
Apr 9, 2022 at 6:28 PM UTC
Good Friday 2020
___________________
The wind groans with reluctance
Sends April snow in squalls—
a tossed and careless shawl
worn long and tired with this Day
No glimpse of sun
A dirge of snow surrenders on the grass
Winter making one more pass
among us
gray with grief
Due east of Rat Island
alone
Appropriate in name
Appropriate to this, the day
surrounded only
by the jealous surf
with hateful waves
surrounded by the howls of “crucify!”
“He is not ours!
They are not ours!
We are not ours!”
Send them all away
They belong to the island
to the ground
from which they came
Not for us to cry and claim
Their abandonment
Wooden boxes fill the
trench—
A Babi Yar
of our own doing
so it seems
and yet again...
Golgotha
In the bitterness
of heart there is
an island--
Hart—I think they call it
Both a prison and a graveyard
of NYC
A place “despised and rejected”
rejected of men
an island of sorrows...
and acquainted with grief....”
“...I see myself an ancient Israelite.
I wander o’er the roads of ancient Egypt
And here, upon the cross, I perish, tortured
And even now, I bear the marks of nails....”
--Yevgeni Yevtushenko
...inscribed on the palms of His hands....
Again—
There is an island
where scores of the forgotten lie
He knows them all by name
Today it binds my tongue
with bonds of sadness
It has traveled in the tides
of time to find us
Our Babi Yar has come for us
to take us to Hart Island
Unmarked
Unloved
Unclaimed
___________________
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Babi_Jar_ravijn.jpg…
New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio acknowledged that more people are being buried at the city's potter's field, but stressed that only the bodies of the unclaimed would be buried there.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
inalienable, inimitable,
and inviolable sacrosanct
contentiously debated enshrined Constitution
ratified June 21, 1788
preceding hallmark Bill of Rights
(adopted effective December 15, 1791) rank
despite British Monarchy exerting, sans lanced
strong arm tactics in response to "FAKE prank
asserting original fledgling NON GMO,
gluten and msg free
thirteen American colonies
(with a great hee ***
severely itching for
(and declared) autonomy
from Britain with mojo
memorialized On July 2, 1776,
when Second Continental Congress,
(with more yes votes then no)
met in Philadelphia voting
unanimously, where this poe
whit notates historical
declaration of independence,
yet since Information Technology Revolution
trumps Founding Fathers (well nigh
almost two hundred
and fifty (CCL) year status quo
as into uncharted figurative waters
American Democracy doth row,
especially problematic to adapt
couched freedoms show
cased within storied
novel innovative though
now confounding, frustrating,
and immobilizing supposed call
ling on learned scholars
adept doctors at law,
resistant to brickbats
heaved by protesters with gall
or perhaps consulting
entertainers at Faneuil Hall,
how in tarnation can the tenets, rubric,
and precepts, sans seven score
and four plus orbitz ago
before advent of tele
communications companies
exhibited fiercely greedily
hungry indomitable up pall
ling monopolistic control,
via erecting a unscalable fire wall
authorized with an A okay by the FCC
Federal Communications Committee to glee
fully relinquish control
(blood) letting "Big Cable", thus
allowing, enabling, and promoting key
purrs of the Internet remain
under jurisdiction me
ning all content and applications
can ***** nilly nee
i.e. be deliberately blocked as well
particular products or websites pre
venting unfettered access to thus re
choir ring every man, woman and child even three
yar olds to voice objection,
and take prescient action NOW!
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC
"In memory of the six million Jews killed by the Nazis during the war 1939-1945
Therenstadt Stutthof Klooga Treblinka Buchenwald
Ponay Babi- Yar Transnistria Westerbork Ravensbruck
Bełżec Chełmno Lwów - Janowska
Bergen - Belsen Drancy Majdanek Dachau
Auschwitz - Oświęcim Mauthausen Sobibór
May the world never again witness such inhumanity of man against man"
Man is an excuse for a race. We put up signs of slaughter, memories of massacre, graves of gore, dreams of destruction, history of holocaust.
Six million.
A number so vast, we are unable to comprehend.
Six million:
slaughtered for no sin
rampaged for religion
killed for their kin
This is what we have come to. The ending of life.
s i x
m i l l i o n
l i v e s
May the world never again witness such inhumanity of man against man.
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 9:42 PM UTC
Homage to the furry four footed a mew zing friend that smart pet house cat whose nine lives spanned nearly a score. This ode scratched out about a half dozen ***** of yarn unspooled around the terra firmae.
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the euthanize cat silenced meow –
less audible than when a kitten 19 years ago – whew
heart wrenching to you
Richard n I presume Brendan too
though ye my dear sister will moost likely miss do
to sensitive resonance with creatures that grew
and an omnipotent bond through
well nigh two decades - whereby a tapestry of love hew
as pet owner solely knew
wove with colorful memories will brew
regular need to grieve as a family member true
as yar own flesh and bone will wake thee no more – boo
hoo
lament must be free to woo
tears of sadness possible prompt thine heart to rue
tis only understandable if such conscionable choice to
terminate life one such beautiful feline knew
within his being affection lavished with memories to view
and replay his corporeal presence where time flew
as calendar ushered near score longevity
end date along timeline queue
memorialized n sentimentalized
by unused litter box n cat bowl used to poo
and chew
respectively will usher inxs purr remembrance of thinks past
by Marcel Proust of human zoo
leaves inky traces without a clew
his latter fading discernible
holographic soul with any faux paws
dagger like claws indelibly etched
within mcgeehan family unforgettable presence he drew!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
…luv frum ur brother math who
moost now rush off n skip to the loo!
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC
This averred title announced straight
away so lingering fans
(hoop fully letting me abbreviate)
a short cut so ye
can up and evacuate,
while metered time,
not yet foregone and not to late
hence best heed mine caution
which can protect minimum damage,
asper gray matter within pate
or blithely ignore
admonishment, aye accentuate
hmm...okay,...you apparently
decided to forsake adequate
prophecy, resigning despite
honest to dog admission to punctuate
a most unpleasant prediction,
I did woof lee aerate
worst case scenario,
leaving disabling genetic trait
to effect generations,
where legions of lesions adulterate
causing future offspring to mutate
and closely resemble
teenage mutant turtles, this potentate
(albeit self declared
only mein kampf, thee only life,
his existence he can arrogate
he doth officiate),
hence proceed at your own risk,
to avoid unpleasant fate,
visited upon unborn sons and daughters
uttering imprecations
unintelligible expletive laced spate,
that would approximate
(a cross between duck and pig)
incoherently gutturally excoriate
ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't
forewarn ya, whar
yar heart might palpitate,
thus causing da ole
ticker to fluctuate
dem eyes of yaws
could severely dilate,
while sweat gushes out every pore
streaming like liquid useless tube video,
a salty sea would then perspirate
out every last drop of fluid,
erupting magmatic plasma
to pool agglomerate
right under keister,
a lovely bag of bones
delivered to Norristown State
which inability to hydrate,
hence resultant mummification
heroic measures futile
thus humane decision would necessitate
and remaining days
on Earth numbered
starting with zero, not very great,
now this extinct reptile
hoop heed dead gratefully,
express message, and clearly articulate.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
Saudatu yan mata
Ki yi mini tatata
Sai ki zamo mata ta
A guri na ke ce yar gata
Na fara da ke cikin raina
Ni ban san ki ba a ko ina
Gashi na fada a labari na
Saudatu yan mata ce, burina
Nayi gamo da so, boyayye
Har a cikin raina, ya baibaye
A cikin zuciya ya kanainaye
Ya cike gurbin can da na boye
Nayi nutso cikin tafkin Soyayya
Na rasa kaina cikin kokon zuciya
Dama zaki bani yarda a samaniya
Da na zama sarki ke ko sarauniya
Saudatu yan mata
Karbi bukata ta
Ki mini tatata
Ki zamo mata ta
Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 9:47 AM UTC