"yob" poems
i care, i really do...
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...
no, i do...
i'm trying...
ha ha...
i'm just imagining what
that one word
looks like in Hebrew...
the...
ha-shem...
i.e.
the-name....
laughing, but at the same time
saying the definite article
over, and over, and over again...
the the the the... v'eh v'eh v'eh...
"point"?!
what point?!
calling a cactus a *******
cactus?
or calling it
an semiticl headscarf?
which is which?
a skirt just covering
the knee?!
better ask your women
to wear gloves...
i seem to enjoy the fact
that the most ****** part of
a woman, are her hands...
geisha hands...
and wrists i could look
at like i might an enjoy an hour
with a bottle of wine...
aha!
tell me...
what's the difference between
a didgeridoo...
and a modern, nordic shamanic chant
akin to to the berserker warcry
in one of
heilung's song,
notably
alfadhirhaiti
where the audience go mad
with fervor & fury...
because didn't you know,
they say:
don't take to d.n.a. ancestor testing,
watch what you absorb culturally...
from what i heard...
the ugly vikings founded
the city of Kiev,
so they must have passed past my parts...
hidden Baltic -
grazing mother of soured milk
that intermediates
a stasis prior to yogurt -
no wolves in england...
i'll pet a a fox therefore...
scoop and swoon -
the baronical patience of
a shadow admirer.;
even if the Jews have abandoned
Europe...
what the left?
is beside the origin of what
the crucifix constitutes...
even if the Jews abandoned
Europe, what they pressed was
the antagonism of Greece -
they pursued ancient Greece -
until the world, and all matters Latin -
stood to understand -
the Jews left Europe,
abandoning the pursuit of Greek -
penitent people, noble people...
until the library of Nag Hammadi
emerged from
the sands of both time,
and Egypt...
noble people... penitent people...
these Israelites -
these Jobs of disgruntled time -
Hiob, Yob, Hiob, Job...
i am barren in wanting to "forgive"
the Jews...
how they pursued ancient Greek
to avenge the emergence of
the Second Troy in Rome...
with Rome...
no Greek will stand on these words
with an Achilles heel...
the Jews pursued the Greek
revisionism of their testament
long enough...
as what Nero found hilarious...
i take to wind and soul with
a drunk mind,
but a sober heart.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
When you see me
You see a peaceful joyful soul
When you see me
You see smiles and happiness
When you see me
You see a strong cheerful young man
When you see me
Yon don't see me like I see me
rorrim gnikool a otni kool I nehW
niap hguorht neeb esohw yob a ees I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
ytitnedi on sah ohw nam gnuoy a ees I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
eb ll'I yas elpoep nam eht ees t'nod I
rorrim gnikool a onti kool I nehW
erutuf on htiw eruliaf a ees I
When you see me
You don't see the real vulnerable
Me.
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
This poem is about a night out on the beer which almost went horribly
wrong
I put out my hand and touched the face of God,
. . .bit of a surprise, really, I was expecting my Hod.
Lying on the floor, thinking it was my bed,
Coated in ***** face down, arms spread.
I've ****** my trousers, shat my keks,
A natural reaction, to twenty three pints of Becks.
Stumbling through Cambridge, I can't find the Site,
I know it's around here, first left or third right. . .
Crashing through hedges, I've forgot how to walk,
I can't ask for directions, I'm unable to talk.
So, I'll go no further, here I'll sit tight,
Sneak back to the caravan, when dawn sheds her light.
I didn't feel the cold, the damp creeping through,
Best shirt, Purple Chino's and I'm missing a shoe.
It's my dancing outfit, for impressing and posing,
Ideal for the Nightclub, not alfresco dozing.
The temperature plummets, I'm giving it "Big Zeds"
Dreams of warm women and petal-strewn beds,
Breathing gets shorter, body starts to shut down,
I'm sweating buckets, beginning to drown.
Ronnie, the Night-watchman, knows I must be in trouble,
In an hour and a half, I'm due back on the shovel,
To keep the lads happy, with bricks and fresh Pug
And barrows of concrete, poured into trenches I dug.
Under an Elm Tree, thirty yards from the job,
Ronnie catches sight of this prone Northern yob.
He doesn't panic, just yet, he knows what to do,
He's seen it before, when a body turns blue.
Those First-Aid Classes, when he told us he was fishing. . .
Vital signs are checked, I'm in the Recovery Position.
Ron holds my nose, lifts my head off the floor,
. . .then he kissed me , in a way , that I'd never been kissed before.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
Don’t get arrested if you’re poor!
There’s no way they’ll let you go!
Privilege just means private law
To those ***** in the know
And if you ever wondered why it seems
The system disregards your self
It’s because you are on separate teams
"The law"’s an anagram of "wealth"
But do not worry, not all’s lost,
You poor demented yob
You can have freedom at a cost
-The freedom of the mob
Oh sure, The mob won’t listen
And doubtless will not care,
But it’s guaranteed admission
To most likely anywhere
But where will the people rally to?
Well, you may think this is funny –
It’s the same place that they always do-
The mob follows the money.
And the people rule the country
The same way as did the few,
But now you cannot blame them
Because "the people" includes you.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
The one I gave my heart to
I took it back on the day she left
swore never to see her again ever
I have not set eyes on her ever since
So what will a contrived courtier do to me
is my heart that valueless to be offered like confetti
is my idea of love a kiss-less bride without mutual passions
mind focus and repetitions are mere tools of the trade to journalists
no stress or distress for detachment is necessary to write objectively
scream it loud and over and over again the childish errant are funny
the snide silly antics of face-less cowards, smelly bullies dumb *****
so evident its rendered dismissive, irrelevant as are their complexes
laughing stocks and pathetic under-achievers playing remote control
we're talking a matured confident self assured trained mind not a yob
not softened, not frightened, not broken down or cowered, no, no, no
So do your worst.............
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
Prisons are heartless, they lack feeling and soul
Bare stone walls and steel bars so cold
Anger and hate runs coarse through its veins
Violence and hurt are familar pains
Tensions are high as I walk through this place
The stress and the strain are clear on my face
20 long years I have suffered to date
Feeling bitter and lost, I despair of my fate
Time stands still in this house of stone
Hundreds of people, yet we all feel alone
They stare at me coldly through eyes so black
I stare straight ahead, I dare turn my back
I'm no killer, no bad man, nor even a yob
This place that cages us is merely my job
For they are many and we are few
They dont call me by name, they call me a *****
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 7:41 PM UTC
The day you sleep to dream
The day the world decide to test
The peace you’ve keep
Walking on that lonely path
Be conscious of the awaiting cat
Some smiles are meant to fade
In those smiles’ give way for your thinking to prevail
Not all smiles are to be embrace
But never to be rejected openly
Keep not in mind that;
which walk not with time
Follow your heart desire
But never fail to inspire
Life is not much a good fun
Even a zany yob could testify
So, let not thou be deceive in that demon
That never last like a watering mouth lemon
Be observable to the beat around
Never hit your steps in dim of dance
These beat are part of your breathing
Not all are given in rise to your continuous breathing
**** the mind against you with sweetness
Lest the bitter part may point black at you
Cuddle with the development of time
Beware of the crime its commit
Mind the heart against you
Take not easy with those cherishing you
For this Angelic grace pipers
Are the hazardous dark face titans
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
There stands our Novel Chamberlain
Xenophobic uber-prat with top dog pretensions
a weak chine coward showing profile unrefined
goggles dark, black shirted.shameless bully craves attentions
parody of a man mired in semblance exuding puerile ignorance fine
insipid pale republican Tonton Macoute compensating his limitations
There stands our novel Chamberlain
a oaf with mildew loaf, the ubiquitous Brown shirt warrior
he's here, there pontificating absurd prose worthy of disdain
cringing vocabulary, warped voyeuristic styles, he straddles Parlio
emitting odious **** of a mentally deranged finding shelter in de rain
basking in mock praises from acolytes and accounts in his alter-egos
There stands our Nonentity Chamberlain
the charlatan of all poetic sides and raconteur un- magnifique
he's eaten in Laos, slept i Siberia, climbed the Laurent and lion slain
been all over the world, bedded women from China to Mozambique
he is a trialist, finalist, racialist, specialist, a fantasist, all but not plain
as he sits in ***** drawers in a dingy room masking his life oblique
There stands our 'no-mark' Chamberlain
dark shades and black T-shirt a poser fantasizing he is a G-man
look behind the facade and see the under-endowed troll insane
a coward, a nasty, witless, brain addled yob and **** fresh in a can
show me the confident wholesome being who does like this knave
a fake con artist, buffoon, with the pretentious guise so much in frame
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
could
killing hasselhoff
be the next
big lebowski?
well, to me it already
is...
i'd prefer the whole:
killing off monty python
sense of comic...
to stress the concept of
individualism,
but be "offended"
by subjectivity?
what's this?
a lesson in how
a pendulum works?
ball hits ball,
ball hits another ball
puritanical objectivism...
actually: talking to an old
man in a park about his
bike makes: pretty much all
the sense there is...
after all, the movie is an
archetypal study of
the book of yob / hiob / jobe -
have i suddenly plaid
a false note on a flute?
o.k.: joe'b:
i.e. 'b = blib.
******* really gagged
to get technical with
language...
it's called:
an oyster eating
a herring that churns it into
a pearl...
and how many human tongues
are actually
enslaved by Poseidon
in these shell creatures?
but to discount subjectivity per se,
and only allow an en masse
objectivism...
too, much, grounding
in physics...
physics with a ******
nose, i.e. having to discuss
biological (subjective) realism...
realism, i.e. ****
back into physical reality;
or rather:
subjectivism, yes, in the focus
on intra-space,
and yes, objectively speaking
in the focus of inter-space...
which:
hardly a case for the "offended",
as if getting ****** off needs
a thesaurus cipher-cloak...
now, in the vicinity,
in the immediate sense,
an anti-thesis
of dasein: or rather,
in english translation:
there's being...
which implies
an inclination toward: in situ.
i still think
killing hasselhoff
is the next cult movie on
the lines of
the big lebowski...
4.3/10 - 1,319 votes...
(out of) /
(based on) -
my ***
my my, haven't we become
very, subtle, creatures?
sure, others prefer the tailoring
of a tux, as opposed
to, being pedantic.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 3:20 PM UTC