Dear Music

Thanks for being here with me
In everytime I feel sad,
In anytime I cry

Thanks for cheers me up
You brings joyful in my life
You bring back my smiles
Yoy are the only thing I reach when I'm sad

Thanks for fixed my shattered heart
You complete the missing piece of mine
You hold tight my soul
You won't let my heart hurts
You won't let my tears out

Thanks for the harmony you have
I forget all my problems when you plays
I am drowning in your symphony
I dont want to leave
I feel safe and sound around you
You calm me down

Dear Music
Thanks being around me
When nobody here
When my soul needs mates
You pull out my sadness
And only brings happiness


(Palembang, 12 Januari 2015)

I am broken. So apart.
I am falling in life. My best friend is the dark.

I yell. Do you want me. Do you want me. To my mum.
I yell do you love me. Do you love me.
Because I dont love me too.

I wanna be in the rain.
So yoy can not see the tears roll down my face.

We hide in all our depression.
Hiding from the light. That we try to invision.
PROSPERITY and PURITY.
like the man who was risen.
WE TRY TO SEE, How we can have our own salvation.

I yell. Do you want me. Do you want me. To my mum.
I yell do you love me. Do you love me.
Because I dont love me too.

I wanna be in the rain.
So yoy can not see the tears roll down my face.

I am so far. From life. No light. Just dark. Id ****. Someone. Like i am inside. I am not well. Ive come undone.

I had a love. Now lie. I was alive. Now im dead inside.

I yell. Do you want me. Do you want me. To my mum.
I yell do you love me. Do you love me.
Because I dont love me too.

I wanna be in the rain.
So yoy can not see the tears roll down my face.

When I was little you told me I could be anything I wanted.
No one looked twice when I shopped in the boys section,
When I wore dark blues and grays instead of pink,
When I played in the mud or with other boys,
When I refused to hear my hair down,
Or when I siad I thought I was a boy.

When I got older you no longer thought it cute but we're not worried quite yet.
You told me that the lumps on my chest were beautiful despite my protests.
You told me that I would change and thag being a tomboy was temporary.
You told me that one day I would love dresses, pink, and makeup.
You told me that I woulf grow out of it soon enough even though I told yoy I wouldn't.

In the final years of high school you began to worry and I began to breathe as things became clear.
You noticed that not once have I worn a dress since you stopprd forcing me to.
You noticed my web pages I left open that read Top surgery or Testosterone.
You noticed the lumps on my chest grew smaller as I bought better binders.
You noticed my hair steadily becoming shorter after every single haircut.
You noticed the letter on the counter that read a few simple word. If yoy haven't noticed... I'm transgender.

Welcome to the world, my child,
I see the awe in you,
I've waited for yoy such a while,
And isaw this labour through,
I curse dthe man who put you here, because i felt such pain,
But when your tiny self appeared, i forgave my love again,
I wish you everything you want, and more,
But even so,
Some things in life take preference, so i will teach you to let go,
When stumbling around in cotton socks, you stretch your arms for me,
I swear to you my darling, i will hold you gracefully,
And when your tooth pops out,
I'll bring forth money from the faerae,
But, mark my words little one,
I will stop parties from being lairy,
You're welcome home to rest,
When college fries your genius brain,
And what's her name has dumped you for the nerd just down the lane,
I'm always here at midnight, when you think youre having doubts,
I'll sit you down with milk and cookies,
We will work it out,
Your missed car payments come, and i will pay them,
Not a word,
I worry night and day my love,
Yet not a word you've heard,
But one day when you've wed, and made a baby of your own,
Please know that i'm your mother,
I love you,
And this will always be, your, home.

The only question
Echoing in my head
I guess I'll never know
Because I never acknowledged
What I had before

Even this cold heart
Wishes to cry
My mind just keeps reeling
Hoping to find out
What the hell have I done

I let you slip
Right through my closed fingers
But I knew it was meant to happen
The faint image
Was meant to disappear

My hatred for love
Clouded how I really felt
To the one person
That understood everything about me
What the hell have I done

You got away from me
Like a jackrabbit at midnight
I just wont find another
You were all I wanted
I just wanted you to be happy

I thought not once
When I decided
That you were better off
Without me in your sights
But know sorrow I can't drown

It's overwhelming me
I can't sleep it away
It has a mind all its own
What the hell have I done
You're just another ghost

I curse myself now
For being so stupid
Yet I know
Deep down
You really are better off

These walls are closing in
Telling me how stupid I am
For not trying just a little harder
What the hell have I done
Is all I can think about

I let you vanish
Into unknown land
But I'll see you soon
Someday, maybe one day
We'll cross paths again

But it's not enough
I know it's not
I can really say it now
But it's too late
Goodbye and farewell

What the hell have I done
My tongue keeps getting twisted
My eyes are vacant
My chest a hollow shell
Of what once was

I lucked out
But better yet I lost out
I'm a mess
You're not the monster
I am

What the hell have I done
**** it all to hell
I'll dine with the devil
I'll sell my soul a million times
Yet I'll still never know

I'm just a being
That deserves to die
If I say those words
I was afraid to say before
Maybe they will clear the list

No use is it now huh
You're already with him
I really lost you forever
But that wasn't the last poem
You have for me and you know it

You want to curse me
You want to break me further
I'll tell you this now
Go for it
And maybe then I will know
What the hell I have done

My body decays
Even more rapidly
My sanity
Lost at birth
Lost again when you wrote those words

We're not done
You know we're not
Those eastern winds
Will blow again
And bring your cries to me

What the hell have I done
Please tell me the answer
But you wont
You'll let me go mad
I'm just not worth it

Yoy killed my
Not the metaphor
But literally killed me
When You said
''My last poem to you''

Ha-ha it's funny
Because I thought
You already wrote it
What the hell have I done
By letting you go

I watched it all
My sweet painful torture
Shame you'll never read this
It's just another goodbye poem
That I wrote drunkenly to you

Here are the words
Read them close
The meaning is infinite
But they are true
I LOVE YOU!

On a dark dark night when the stars all glow
Tell me again where does the Half Moon go

When winter appears with a withering snow
Tell me again where the warm winds go

When the day diasppears in a glourious show
Tell me again where does the twilight go

When storm clouds appear To and Fro
Tell me again where does the sunshine go

When I am so old, so tired and so slow
Tell me again why yoy love me so.

When I was naive, I thought I loved you.
I gave you everything I had to offer.
But immediately after, my illusions were shattered.
You explained the difference between making love and *******.
And when I asked what it was we were doing,
Your harsh laugh was answer enough.
But worse were the words that hissed through your beautiful lips.
"Don't be stupid. This is hardly even considered *******."
And with that, you slipped on your jeans and walked away,
Leaving me stunned and broken hearted.

Months slipped by since that day,
But I'm not that girl yoy left anymore.
You see, after you left me, I was broken.
I found comfort in the arms of others,
But to me, we were just *******.
I was just learning.

Then, just last night, you called me up again.
Asked how I had been.
If I still had a heart, I might have stuttered at the sound of your gorgeous voice.
But instead, I kept my cool and kept you talking.
You wanted to meet up, how shocking.

One thing lead to another, as it always did,
But this time things were different.
You were panting in satisfaction and you turned to me and said,
"Wow, that was fantastic."
I turned my cool eyes on to you, and responded with a hiss.
"Don't be stupid. That was hardly even considered *******."
I slipped on my dress and left the room,
And the first tears in years slid down my face.
For I knew how it felt, sitting alone in that room,
Stunned and broken hearted.

Sometimes you need to walk into a thunderstorm
Sure
There is thunder
And lightning
But that will strike trees
You have to know that
You are safe where yoy stand
And then you can see
That where you stand is beautiful
The rain is wet
But wet won't hurt you
And no one can get to you
You can feel as you wish.

Remember,
To dance when no one is watching
To write when an idea arises
To draw when you feel the urge
To laugh when you find things amusing
To cry is something upsets yoy
To scream if something frightens you

Remember,
To let your emotions run free
To keep an open mind
To keep an open heart
To feel without regrets

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

I hung you like a lantern in my dark cave
worshipped at your feet but made you my slave
sterilized my heart inside an old autoclave
and tattooed my soul so I would become brave

tried to teach the teacher about genuine apology
attempted to outrun the runner with finicky philosphy
glued the pieces together to make a seamless epiphany
and ended up laughing at myself amidst the general cacophony

I created this mess when I was not at my best
and instead of looking to you now I see right through you
nightmares of yoy dying have turned to desires that leave me crying
I pray that the Rapture may come to steal you away or take me from
the past at last is gone.

I walked the rockiest path that I could find
in an effort to toughen my soles and strengthen my mind
I kept my eyes peeled in case I found a sign
that with eyes wide open I had not been rendered blind

When I reached a plateau I thought of resting
but when you stay long enough you start to think of nesting
watching the birds overhead reminded me of cresting
no rest for the weary testers during testing

Very, Very & Fantastic

She struggles with each verb and noun,
Adjective, conjunction, article and even
Pronoun.
All to better brain:
Maintain
The art parts, smart parts,
A la carte parts.

There are leaders:
Chairmen of the boards who stay
Long adolescent in some way.
Ambitious, never swaying
From their standpoints, outlooks and perspective.  Oy!
A very, very Oy yoy yoy!

“I am best!  Don’t mess with me,
Don’t carp or bleat.
My words unquestionably
                                         right
And those who choose to disagree…
Are rendered useless usefully.
My deeds, and all I nominate
Are very, very, very great!
I live on very un-elastic,
Very, very and fantastic!

Very, Very & Fantastic 7.29.2017
A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin

For once I want to be the lover, instead of just the friend.
For once I want to be the one you love until the end.
For once I want to be the one who makes you laugh or cry.
For once I want to be the only sparkle in your eye.
For once I want to be the boy simply who makes you smile.
For once I want to be the one to make it all worthwhile.
For once I want to be the one you say I love you to.
For once I want to honestly believe you really do.
For once I want to be the one talking with you all night.
For once I want to be the one that you honestly just might.
For once I want to be the one you introduce to mom and dad.
And if yoy let me be the one, for once I will be glad.

Have it your way Robert you want distance and to be poor white trash in the streets of Nashville with no health care, no home of your own accept the men'mission and theroom in the inn at 705 Drexel Place. You want to be a Peter Pan, awomanizer, anda want to be musician which has not transpired into anything. You are a vagabond hobo and just because you have a a stretch at Clancy's Cafe does not guarantee yoy a place the lime light' You donot acknowledge m[y little tokens I sent you have it your way. Karma will get you I promise one day. I will not even try  to reason wirth you. I hope and pray you are happy with street ***** you pick up on-line and they find out all about you and kick you to the curb.

First let me say:
No one is perfect
We all are unique
We all learn differently
We think seperatley
Our dreams and ambitions belong to our individual souls.
So why do yoy expect my daughter to be a cookie cutter image of a child at her age?
She is special and perfect in my eyes.
With a heart of pure innoscense and gold.
But all you see are the tears, the tantrums, and the fears.
You don't see the sweet little girl that cries herself to sleep because she never feels good enough.
You don't see the defeat and pain in her big brown eyes when a task is difficult or hard to understand.
The frustration because she doesn't know how to cope or why shes not like the rest.
The depth of exhaustion she experiences every day because her little body is not strong enough to master the challenges of the day.
You don't see the despiration to be accepted and loved.
Her mind and body communicate at the speed of light or at the pace of a tourtise.
So young she has no words to explain the torture that normal activities cause her pain.
You don't see the spatk of hope when praised for a job well done.
You don't hear her screams for help. A hand to guide her through this world.

Have you ever been feeling fully absorbed but yet exhausted?
You talk to someone over the phone but you feel the hold of his arms around you?
You call someone at 2am in the morning but you feel like scrumbled in the blanket with him?
And when yoy look at his eyes and telling secrets, it feels like you open the gate of another dimension where you both can share thoughts and think about the idea of life?
Well, I'm in.
To whom who never been in love, you should been into
I don't say that love is everything but when you're in love,
You will feel that you are everything to someone, and vice versa.
You shouldn't hate love and don't wanna try it again.
Just love yourself first than youcan love someone that much like you love yourself.
I mean guys,
Have you ever been in love?
So mad, so deep, and crave the love so high the ocean would be jealous?
Well, I'm in.

- dlx

.poet, or philosopher, it doesn't really matter which is which, or whether the two are indistinguishable, notable in the former scenario, when someone has an eclectic bounty of interest is simply not love-scorned or love-nostalgic, love-idealistic, does it really matter? i was once called a philosopher: a teenage girl said in third person (as if she was a puppet and some-thing was moving her tongue): 'talk to this philosopher'... not in that sarcastic way that philosopher is an misnomer or an abused term of: self-gratifying grandeour, it was quiet genuine, but: imagine my shock... i had an ambition in life, it was to perform a service to thinking: without doing as much as hammering a nail into a plank of wood, that's the ambition of any thinking man: to borderline on telekinesis or telepathy... that was Hegel's modus operandi, his categorical imperative... after all: ego is a metaphysical tool, while thought is its metaphysical canvas... the mere suggestion that a copernican inversion can happen in physics "contra" metaphysics... it's already apparent, any word can behave like a hand touching the sacred object / subject of transfiguration and become something else, even a misnomer can find itself given solace to the user... for now i've forged a belief in the ultimate: away from the absolute in relation to omni in unum - one first has to learn to think, before having to learn to feel... mind you, i don't like the current nietzschean inversion of the cartesian equation: (ego) sum ergo (ego) cogito... esp. among the youtube political commentators, too many examples to give: i'm a classical liberal, i'm a progressive, i'm a liberterian... i don't really like seeing: i am, precede i think... i don't even like the origin-argument of this inversion: i exist for the sole purpose of thinking... after all: i think prior to being, since i can also daydream and not be what my thinking suspects as a possible truth-outcome... that's the nature of the freedom of thought: i don't have to be what i think, i can find thinking to be a pleasure, when the senses do not offer me any pleasure derivative, e.g. eating can sometimes be boring, chewing, chewing, *******... i eat because i need to live: i don't live to eat... i really have under-appreciated Hegel, i should really visit my grandparents for two months and read the phenomenology of the spirit: i'm trying to replicate the saying attributed to him (verbatim), but i doubt that i will, i don't have the patience to sift through all the quotes, but it goes along the lines of: beware oh wordly man, to not be a pawn in a thinking man's game... hence my suggestion of philosophy entering into the realms of telekinesis and telepathy: you get to see things play out and people express the origin story, of your own memetic generation of the original idea... how are poets finally alligned to philosophers? good thing that i studied chemistry at edinburgh university: we return to atoms, words are no longer enough, sure, they are, contrary to the statement...  (why did i under-appreciate Hegel? ah... had my head stuck up heidegger's and kant's *****...

integration? great!
but i'll meet you halfway...
i'll eat your fish & chips,
your englush breakfast,
i won't sing your anthem: god save the queen,
****** anthem, too short,
but i will whistle through:
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
like i might through la marseillaise...
i'll meet you halfway...
i'm not a former colony member,
commonwealth,
i'm not some ****- paying bribes
to the british powers
to join in on a world cup of cricket...
this is what happens when immigration
turns sour...
they either lesrn the host tongue,
or they don't learn it...
or they can't distinguish the two:
speak polonaise at home,
speak the hosts' sprechen outside of it...

if the ******* aren't suspect:
by not being bilingual...
the arab beatles... jihadi john...
ringo star h'ahmed...
george ali...
paul mecca rashid...
oh i'll settle for integration...
but don't you ******* think i'll give
up my mother tongue
for "c.c.t.v." close-ups back home,
home being my private lodge...
like ******* will...
i'll speak your tongue in public...
but i'm not ******* former commonwealth
****- riddled with a need to play
cricket, "forget" my tongue in order
to compensate for olives
and sun-burnt bananas!

a former colony ****-**** is about
to dictate the rules for fellow
europeans, on the tram-ride from
Birmingham to Nottingham?
seriously?
but of course the englishman
will favor the former colony pet bush-monkey
from sri lanka...
since the brit can't really dictate
to a fellow european his superiority
complex... which he can...
with a petted copper skinned
toy-ting...
who brought 'im a korma curry!
nice one, ol' laddy...
right on the plonker...
i'm not finished!
i'm just getting started!

gehirnablassen:

perfectly respected immigration,
given that so many english girls just love
the attention their **** minders,
sexually abused,
not really making it as nurses
or... ahem... karaoke superstars
worth the while of britain's got talent
or voice of britain,
or...whatever the ****** show was
that gave birth to one direction...

so a.... brain-drain? good immigration?
the best!

i can sit awhile by myself and count...
1. the sparrows,
2. the swallow,
3. the starlings,
4. the crows,
5. the magpies,
6. the pigeons,
7. the woodland pigeons
(fatter, with dog collars),
8. kestrels
(one is enough to begin
the count)...
9. the blackbirds....
10. seagulls... seagulls?! 25 miles from
romford to southend! seagulls?!
this far in-land?! fair enough...
11. a robin...
12. goldfinch...
i just sit and watch these birds
in my garden, i sometimes spot
a darting frog in the garden,
i'm more english than the english...
i actually enjoy owning a garden...
the "english" surrounding me
exemplify a bbq. as a luxury parade...
what's so luxury about marinating
some meat, and then grilling it?!
please! enlightend me!

gehirnablassen...
brain-drain immigration,
the type asiatic tiger-mums brag about
at child olympics...
for the required rubric stature...
******* mothers, basically...

)  notes to preserve completing
what remained: pending...

1. χaron χaos - cha-cha-cha       khaos / chaos...
2. theaetetus - so / ma   letters / syllables:
graphemes: sz phi theta
compound syllables (caron s) - Na (sodium)
3. music choice...
brain damage perturbator ft. noir deco
virga iesse floruit, gradual of eleanor of
britanny...
4. pride / stubborness (not equal to) honour,
tolerating islam is not the same
as respceting islam...
german 19th century fascination
with islam...
θought and φilosophy...
greek in warsaw, giving him directions,
talks: sounds so much like spanish...
5. england a nation of singletons,
idiosyncracy... social pressures in poland
and even in h'america missing in england
to marry...                                         (

1. well, let's begin...
        it has taken me two days to complete
my utterances... i've just spent 40 or so minutes
listening to the last of the youtube
stronghold (dangerfield -
               from hash to ******) -
i can relate on the literature,
i can't relate in taking steps of replica...
i started smoking marijuana
aged 21... i think you should start later...
drinking while being a teenager, fine...
i hanged around with some irish in my teens,
we used to have sleepovers at youth clubs
play pool, buy ***** mags and drink
white lightning: bumb cider...
but given that i was sold chemically
enchanced (negatively, i might add) marijuana
that turned me psychotic...
ah... psychiatric terms, used by the mainstream
like some casual metaphors...
     recently i was at a health scrutiny hour...
yes: my psychosis was made stable in
a schizophrenia: which is a new word to describe
bilingualism... oh the english natives!
what competent people...
  no, it didn't become bipolar: psychotic depression...
lucky me... lucky in that:
           bukowski: isolation is the gift...
the rest are a test of your endurance...
no **** sherlock!

  i just look at all the particular instances
when english (the language) breaks rules...
    heidegger merely pointed out
that there's a difference between chaos
and χαoς: well cheap and cha-cha-cha...
but when it comes to the ferryman?
some would say: χαρoν...
otherwise? do the raj bidding of inserting
a surd H... nibble at the tetragrammaton...
   and call the ferryman κ - αρoν
                                            (h)...
this isn't the only example: cheap, chisel...
        chemistry... it's not chem-ístree...
      it's kem-ístree!

2. poor *******, the english,
   they can't discuss orthoraphy...
hardly, to begin with:
what with i (ι) and j (ȷ) -
you have already cut the diacritical heads
of come the CAPITALS: I & J...
what a simple hydra to vanquish...

2. theaetetus - so / ma   letters / syllables:
graphemes: sz phi theta
compound syllables (caron s) - Na (sodium)

                     i like this one...
   letters, syllables, graphemes,
sodium: Na...
  the key and the door analogy of the keyhole...
feminism: it wants to coagulate...
to group existentialism with
scholastism...
sorry honey... play your footie:
*******!
                    key being inserted:
φought enters θilosoφy....
yes, the graphemes are elevated,
beyond the stature of consonants...
didn't you ask?
oh, you should have asked...
- socrates: can yoy give a rational account
                    of syllables, but not of letters?
- theaetetus: it seems possible.
-socrates: quiet; i think so too. at any rate,
surely you'll have an answer about the first
syllable of 'socrates', if someone asked
'tell me, theaetetus, what is SO'?
- theaetetus: yes, my reply would
be that it is S and O.
- socrates: so there's your account of a syllable,
isn't it?
    - theaetetus: yes.
- socrates: all right then, tell me alao of your account
of S is.

sorry... after this point, for B to be a surd?
bottomless pit... let's ask what is a letter,
what is a syllable... and what is a grapheme...
the greeks bargained on dialectical markers...
which they dind't need, since the latins needed them...
what is a syllable is also: what is a grapheme,
and how to account for "strange" vowels?

the greek thought, they thought,
"thinking" that only the greek language
was correlated to universal thinking...
and that universal thinking was only associated
with greeks speaking... pish-poor choice
if you mind...

         syllables... individual letters...
weren't consonants synonymous to syllables?
esp. with added diacritical markers?
play-tongue-think-tank with the greeks...
sooner or later they fizzle out as
redundant...
         couldn't keep Constantinople...
will not regret or revive the bounties of
reclaiming Istambul...

i once claimed to tolerate islam...
tolerating islam is one thing...
    respecting islam: quiet another...
i can attempt myself at
respecting a cloning device...
which any religion is: a cloning device...
i can tolerate it...
which, doesn't imply i respect it;
i wouldn't eat a meal with a muslim...
and sharing a meal?
is my fullest acknowledgement of
respect, i tolerate islam,
i, tolerate it,
   thank **** i don't respect it.
respect it like some 19th century german
philosopher... hegel or nietzsche....

what is a syllable "compensated" by
a grapheme, esp. with a hidden consonant,
akin to the caron "s"...
      i.e. šeep: look at that...
the first time orthography was introduced
into the englishsprechen...
   hid the H: šeep... sheep...

well we already know where the greek
letter went to: modifying scientific
constants... after all π = 3.14....
    Σ = summation...
            last time i checked...
letter, whether consonant or vowel
orientated,
took up more meaning beyond
translating the optic of encoded
sound into expressed sound...
    they became surds...
          tools to think with,
only secondary sound symbols...
you no longer translated the representation
of the sound,
there was an idea behind the letter...
disguised as a "letter"...
chemistry minded the syllables:
Na: sodium, salt...
   and that was that...
              
  fai(s) çe q'(u)é voudrā(s) -
written, but otherwise a surd...
fwench has the most examples...

3. music choice...
brain damage perturbator ft. noir deco
virga iesse floruit, gradual of eleanor of
britanny...
     mind you, i will gladly whistle about
three songs while walking...
this is the part where i become an arrogant
*******... teaching yourself does
that to a man, there's no pride in being
lectured, ordered to regurgitate...
for all that pomp & circumstance
that makes pride & prejudice shy...
    she should have always been
first choice on the fiver banknote...
jane austen my ***...
            mary shelley was the dog's *******,
through and through...
the three songs i sometimes whistle
while walking, taking a whiskey for a walk
(good thing i don't own a dog)...

a. beethoven's symphony IX
     allegro assai vivace - alla marcia...
b. la marseillaise...
   c. british grenadiers - fife & drum...
shhh...
    (for all the worth of shakespeare's
poetry... robert burn's:
aud lang syne...
        hell... i can't write sing-along poetry...
poetical commentary...
which still beats poetry worthy of
thee theatre...
shakespeare, no shakespeare...
aud lang syne:
   old long gone song, refurbished)...

5. england a nation of singletons,
idiosyncracy... social pressures in poland
and even in h'america missing in england
to marry...

       isn't it obvious? england is a metal
asymlum when you wish to see it as such...
somehow and "suddenly" all the social
pressures disappear when nagging either
a polonaise society or a h'american society...
i'll be critical of applied english,
as a language...
but when it comes to living?
               second to none... when i was younger,
and growing up in poland
the english were know as gaylords...
or the bellybuttons of the world...
now, having grown up among the irish
in the outer east-end of Loondon?
want to talk to a 6ft1 115kg "******" about
his lack of obsession with marital status?
his complete disinterest in dating?
what's a dating app?!
                 the same kind of "******"
obsessed with templar chants?
dabbling in helvegen?

  dating... what a weird concept...
whenever i get a chance, i'll sit with a thai
surprise (bisexual, female)...
manage to take her home, play her some
jazz... **** her in the garden...
                            walk her home...
"date"... when it comes to prostituites...
when it comes to prostitutes...
    britney spears  - criminal,
     rihanna - shut up & drive,
   lady gaga - telephone
                       holly valance - kiss kiss
delta goodrem - innocent eyes.....
gay boy got gay rights...
what a boring time to be alive in...
just when homosexuality was no longer tabooo,
norman stephen "typo" *******...
boring homosexuality...
  antithesis artistic homos...
gays are boring me with their antics,
i'd also love latex love triangles...
but...
  i'm not joining in,
since i haven't been made welcome...
         welcome this:
the rightful pucker of a knuckle count's worth
of a sucker!

    i've experienced only: 3, loves at first sight...
kot... i rememher her surname,
she was the first to kiss me,
aged, roughly 7...
    priya.... my ex-girlfriend's
younger sister...
                          isabella of grenoble...
who took my virginity...
oh, ****...
        there was freckles galore daniella...
at st. augustine's... rabbit to her...
there was... milena...
there was samatha...
                there was jadwiga...
                       there was janina...
i fell in love too many times...
there was ilona of novosibirsk...
   gregoria who licked my face
like a cow...
                 the ukranian *******,
the bulgarian prostitutes who i stole
kisses from,
the serbian strippers...
   packaged boy,
  postcard ****-acto...
                 the australian fling...
half hindu half scouser...
towering beauty with the looks
akin to tweety bird lips (as my irish friend
noted)...

women... ah ha ha...
           i guess 3 months is long enough
for me to be with them...
    last time i checked, she was on her period,
and i was gagging...
last time i checked: ******* a *******
her period alleviates the period pains...
she didn't let me,
instead? i received a week
bound to reading Bulgakov...

           condoms are great when used
to **** a ******* her period...
that's how i started to hate relationships...
*** monopoly..
   and readings from cosmopolitan magazine
about the out-dated
idiosyncracy of relationship statuses...

4. pride / stubborness (not equal to) honour,
tolerating islam is not the same
as respceting islam...
german 19th century fascination
with islam...
θought and φilosophy...
greek in warsaw, giving him directions,
talks: sounds so much like spanish...

     i can tolerate islam,
but, i can't respect it....
    how could i respect it?
           i met a greek in warsaw....
he sounded like a goth,
     how the spanish tongue sounded
much akin to the greek zunge...     

chamaleon tongue,                    shape shifter,
bez akcentu w piśmie - więciej akcentu poza pismem
(trainspotting scottish), welsh, cockney,
east london altogether, pakistani english, etc.
e.g. rather, or raver, i.e. not rayver
(someone who parties at night on an ecstasy pill)
but ra'ver, like verging on a new discovery,
it's not even the = ~v but is actually v...
english is a chamaleon tongue, you say 'nostic
when you write gnostic, i say diagnostic,
therefore say gnostic, you say 'nome, i say gnome,
as cf. with diagnostic;
then there's the case of the per se:
you say chamaleon - no kappa there apperent, eh?
but there's chappie, chap, chuckles,
no kappa in a millionth chance
to also say nough'ledge for knowledge,
a bit like that gnome of yours...
as i said before: a language without
a written insertion of stressors / distinctions
will produce a massive array of diacritical
stressors / distinctions outside the written format,
but it will also become as complex as to
allow adults with learning difficulties e.g. dyslexia,
and that horrid internet slang of shortcuts:
i ate my 8 when i was late for my disco date
with the cha cha cha melon.

          mind you: i always seemed to "mis-pronounce"
words in english... first came puma:
i was laughed at on a primary school bus
heading from st. augustine's (half-way between
gants hill and barkingside) to the barkingside
swimming pool: where i learned to swim
by myself, very much akin to me learning
the english language, by myself,
dropped into the deep end,
i was a complete mute...
my parents were also learning the zunge...
so they couldn't exactly teach me,
i had to learn it myself...
      so it wasn't puma: with that hollowed
out U...
      i.e. pú-mah... it was: pew-mah...
or piu-mah...
           weird...
                   then i found other examples...
i was once more corrected
when it came to the celts...
                       it wasn't cedilla "riddled":
çelts, but Kelts...
    funny that... the football team from glasgow
is dubbed çeltic, not celtic: isn't it?
i loved being corrected about my
pronounciation... get corrected enough times,
and then... light: you get to sprechen such
things as:
   what sort of orthography aesthetic discussion
can i have with an englishman,
when his sole diacritical markers
hover over an ιo: iota: i / ι...
   and that dotless antithesis of java - ȷ -
like in dante's canto XXVIII:
                               Bertrand de Born,
two completely pointless orthographical -
as i would rather call them:
indulgences rather than errors,
otherwise not necessary...
             excess spelling... and particular,
hidden, pronounciation variables...
that's as much of an orthographic debate
you will ever get from an englishman,
given their lack applied diacritical markers...
hey... if the english speaking peoples
love their "reality" chequers...
   their metaphysics...
           i have something as pertinent, ready,
orthography is far more interesting
to me than the grandeour of metaphysics...
so now we have to figure out
the third sister... given the already associated
benzene ring directions of associating
compound groups:
   ortho-,
                      meta-,
                            ­           para-...
  can't just leave it to paranorman / -"normal"...
para- needs to be associated with something
else if we're going to venture
with orthography and metaphysics
and further...

    another decent example?
       gnomes...           gnostics...
why is the g treated as a surd at the beginning
of the word, hence? 'nomes hence 'nostics...
but all the more apparent in a word like
diagnostics?
                               i guess i've found my
new playground: the english vocabulary.

p.s. if there's a hay patch at the beginning, the nasal flute
will ask larry 'the lynx' saxophone to hark it out with rasp
gritting of phlegm... but if it's somewhere else down
the piccadilly line... it will act like a nudist spy and resonate
less than expected; probably mingling with f, i think.

People said "Everything happens for a reason".
But i have never get the answer "why do she broke my heart without any reason"?

I cried, heart is bleeding with pain
But i have never get the answer of my
Question "where do all the broken hearts went"?

I will be okay, i will forgot you
Maybe after some days, monthes or years
And i hope when we will meet again
I hope yoy can love me in that way
Or hopefully i have already forgot you

Maybe then i will get my answer "where do all the broken hearts went"?
But that time it will be too late.

No no no you ******* coward  I swear to all the poor *** haters I swear you can't take me down I will fight back till I die I am soldier I fight gods honor a loyal angel of death I wil call the shots no more abuse no more manipulation and lies im getting close to shaping  your lies words hate im russian yoy hate me *******

The moon shivers
Under your embrace

The earth tangles
Under the sunlit kiss
When we spoke that day
My atoms were unified
As if you were inside of me
I felt perfect bliss
With a hint
Of love, aggression, and jealousy
I wondered if you've seen her
I've wondered if you've
Changed
You've sure gotten skinnier
I wasn't sure what to make of
The change
Clothes different
Hair back long
I figured yoy struggled
But what took you so long
I'd been waiting for you
And c to get together
I saw a change in her immediately
She began to ask all
Sorts of questions
Said you were still very much
Hung on me
I love you
I want you to feel that live everyday
In whatever shape or form
That comes in
You've been
Given a gift
I don't want to see you burn out
I love you
Like the restless soul I am
I wish to dive
Into you every night
Still I hold back
I still understand
Your desire
To get better
But nothing is wrong
You just lost part of me
I need you
Just as if I needed the rain

The sky will shine bright,
Moon will illuminate the earth with its light
But when you show up they fright
You have turned my heart to a knight.
Have I mentioned I miss you?

You can call this praise
But I will sing it all days
One day I will carry you on a chaise
I will dance a love song on the dais
Wait, did i say I love you?

The blue glowing eyes,,
The sweet blue colour of the skies,
Gives you a reflection with guise,
Your face  gives me scries,
One of this days will give yoy a surprise

As adults, how many can say you never disrespected your parents?
I know I can?

With the children's today smarting off without knowing the consequences of their action.

How many can say?
As adults, you never disrespected your parent?
Scriptures address this honestly.

As a child?
How many can you say?
Yoy never disrespected your mom or dad?

Remember folks judge your action and ways back to the way you raise?

Yes, you represent your parent's values.

I lay awake at night hoping for the cold chill of night to leave my breath visible to your eyes . I see last divin threw the night sky at time ripped a hole threw my mind. When I lay away think about you my spine has chills running down leaving me feel cold god take the erath as wind blows the chims creating sound of bliss and hope for all man kind . I feel paralyzed when yoy run you hands down my back leaching me wanting more of your touch as we both strive deep into echother blue eyes

Some of us question it?
Some of us don't.
If peer pressure is so powerful as stated.
We should have some of the brightest kids if they hung with the mindset.

The power of persuasion holds strength with the weak mind.
For many know the consequences to come from your firm parents.
And that tone isn't what many of want to face?

For those that rob.
Many friends are simply tagged along without knowing the happenings of the other.

Many youths don't want to face the harsh tones from a judge.

Yes, curiosity attracts some kids to smoke, drink and more.
But if you have liquor of any substance in your house.
Yoy gave them an open door.

So you his/her peer pressure without guidance.
Are they only doing what they saw?

Truth is?
You not bad because you placed a gun in your hands.
And robbed, steal, **** and killed.
Yoy just a weakling claiming to be a man.

Society, full of these wants to be bad.

Truth is?
You not tough because you gang-related.
Heck, in the truth of reality, you fear them mostly.
Push comes to shove they not above ****** your sister or mother.

And these the fools you call your family or sisters or brothers.

Truth is?
You not enforcing the law?
You can't respect the rights of those you arrest.
You can't claim you the good guys?
When you're surrounded by rogue criminal-minded officers?

Truth is?
You not anointed in the ministry.
If you breaking your own marriage vows.
Acting like you a dictator.
Where everything you speak is final?

Truth is?
Some people easily offended.

How can I forget you
All your jokes all your smiles
How can I forget you
How to get over you
When you are whole world to me
I miss yoy with every second
I desire you
Even if you failed
I need you to simply hold me
I can forgive you all you ve done to me
Please come back I can t leave it
With no goodbye it s like a fling
And you were so more than this
You were everything I cant get over with.
Why cant you give me a call
Tell me we wont fall
At leats be my friend
Cause without you Im no one
At the end

Dear my cursed mind,
How I wish you would not torment so
When the darkness comes crawling
Unfurling its captivating shadows
Across the lonely, forgotten skies.

Dear my cursed mind,
May you please no longer hold me in your paralysing grip?
Let me go and succum to this state of fear.
Knowing that my thoughts and feelings are lost to a whirlpool of hypocrisy
Tormenting my very soul until it bleeds and screams out.

Dear my cursed mind,
May you please let me rest?
For you see I am so very weak and tired from fighting yoy
This never ending, passionate torment of heartbreak
Wreaks havoc across my days and nights.

Dear my cursed mind,
Please let me rest, even if it is just for a little while.
I have grown so weak
No longer able to stand your mockery!
I have destroyed everything you have asked me to,
Now I fear my own sanity is at steak.