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Shofi Ahmed Jan 2020
(0)
Fly perfectly straight and high, and show the fly
out of the fly-bottle on your way.
Rise to victory, far above the blue sky,
and reap the reward: the opening of paradise!

The road ahead is clear and open this way,
with things small and big growing and disappearing up this way.
You will see sunrises and sunsets waxing and waning,
with mention of the moon and stars in the dark.
Be mindful as you sway, it's got to be laser-sharp.
There is no hard shoulder on this highway,
miss it by an inch and risk losing everything forever!

There is hope, there is light up high
pick up your paintbrush, just like the sun does
goodness knows how it sneaks in, right in the black
canvas of the night, painting the first light
lo, it shows up in heaven, the candle of the daylight.

As long as there is a man and a woman,
never give up, our canary bird can fly
rosy or not, the nest in every morn nets a sunrise!

(1)
A woman indeed plucks up the courage
she never had to look up to the stars
be it for the guide or the light in the night.
Fathima herself was the full Moon every night
is thanks to her Godsent innate light.

With it, she can bask in the full spread of the pi
on top of its short decimals mounting high
constantly as if countless stars in the sky.

The time and space under the sun
and that under Fathima's light
are far apart from each other
yet they coexist side by side.

As she points out,
"A circle is masculine
while pi is feminine."

Pi forms the circle with fine prints,
decimal dots continue to spring,
sprawling trillions of new digits,
the bandwagon is still increasing.
Connecting the dots is an untouched dream.

The full moon pi picture is veiled,
unseen at large, yet in short, 3.145 it can live!

(2)
Fathima flies her lock of hair
in the lurking air of the transcended pi
the primitive feminine does that,
no wonder she is God's secret feminine opus!
An immeasurable black hole lies in between
the short and transcended pi, running like a river,
dancing anew on every riverbank
in the many curls of Fathima's jet black hair.

She lent out a hair to the planet earth
and crossed over like a silhouette
without spilling out the colour
of the transcended end of the pi.
The earth takes it in the core in her heart
as if it would keepsake it forever.

Weaving the pi in Fathima embeds two hairs ties one
perfect circle at the back and one at the front of the universe.
Inside each hair the earth is finest fluid in the core
none is as deep as high as proportionate a perfect flow.
No time is as revealing no music is as sweet in this orb
no force is as mighty nor as prevailing a true giant
causing gravity and the heat at the earth's core.
Matter and spirit mix free in the play both wax lyrical
thanks to the pure resonance of 'Qun Be' the word of God!

(3)
The way to the earth's core is exposed to none other
save the Angel of Death the lucky one.

See both sides of the one lofty sky swathed in countless stars  
but the day and night render through still remains an unseen one  
Terra is shalet zeroed in Fathima is heaven on earth!  
Up in the sky-high bank turning the starry bowl upside down
Fathima took no star nor a pearl diving deep down the Arab water,
the brightest luminary came after Muhammad (PBUH),
in veil from the Night of Measures and into the flipside in the night
she's gone without lifting the veil but left her penetrating mark.

Few could find the shortcut contemplating on a blank canvas
the Moon looks down into the abyss down the sea eyes on far
for a mirror in the bottom on the as above so below matter
since Godsent Fathima touched on the all-inclusive primitive water.
The sun gets caught up in the very water dew she raised in the sky
the ancient fold of time still unfurls with the sun-kissed flowers
for the new hands yet the fingerprint on the sun remains only her!

Azrael heads to Fathima around the year 632 after death
touches down in Medina on his usual thin earth he steps.  
But this time a little mundane dust couldn't be thicker
he keeps descending deep down to the earth's centre
following from Medina but the angel locates her
inside the perfect circle a closed geometric figure.

(4)
Fathima is the female headline her secret is not all known
when she used to visit the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)
he would stand up for her hold her hand and kiss it
and seat her on his seat, she would do the same to the prophet
when he would visit her like they did know each other
in and outside the spheres of heaven and earth!

She is the embodiment of the infinite feminine variations
the first spiritual woman created following God's word Qun.
Her is the mother tongue of the ever diversified feminine lingua
no one woman on her own can rhyme with her alone
she has no peer her rhetoric is unique like none other.
The galactic run from planet to planet up on the starry ladder
climbing high up the mountain heaven yet streams out like oval
off their rock bottom stone until that unleashes the final run
in perfect circle delving into the rhythm of the loop at the centre
made of Fathima's hair charged by 'Qun' God's uncreated word.  

Prophet David can sing on the bank of the river
and can see the fish are jumping to him out of the water.
The masculine is open form, eye on everywhere,
but not her the woman is in juxtaposition her
all-inclusive schema supplanting the details rest only on her.
She is the unseen world within the world at best imagine her!
Guess, through this inwardly open door who might disappear?
It's nature before the scientist on ultimate discovery of the matter!  

Aligning with her down the rainbow up high the land absorbs
the grooming sky looking on the running rivers within her.
Her words spread through like the smart cloud that flies far
over the lands and valleys but not even the wind none other
gets a sniff of the potion and melody it caries until that rain down
without a hurdle without a visual she moves on at the target
such a soul needs no after death lift from the angel of death.

Before Azrael Fathima loses an arc of the circle then and there
so not the earth but giant Azrael can take the pressure!
Marked by a fluid discharge since then she is cooling this fire
In Shaa Allah God willing when she ajars it, it will be elixir!  

(5)
Draw a straight line, but it won't be perfect
it keeps bending, fly straight touching the sky
the flight path won't look like a straight line
it would be like the crest of a crescent moon
like curve touched the sky, like climbing up
atop the pyramid is not going high straight on
it goes up from the widespread seked slopes.

Moves in golden ration 1.618 not the full two
and gets the designing formula flawlessly full
micro to macro all levels all the way to the true north!    

Fathima being the original feminine eyeing at her
she can tap in the knowhow of naturally feminine nature.
And discovers the immanent pattern - the world
is pre-designed and measured is never a coincidence.
The creatures' creativity, scientist's science
is to follow, discover working formulas like phi and pi.

Play along it works until an unknown hour strikes
comes with accurate knowledge dead on time
numerically correct never miss taking a life away
as if it was calculated beforehand before the birth.
A newborn is born for a limited time
already set but no one knows when it goes up  
is a deadlock clock but it isn't so shrouded
in the blueprint of the creatures' grand design
there the clock ticks safe and sounds it never dies!  

(6)
Fathima hailing from the other side of the pool
eyes on the ever live pre-design side of the creation!
Then its corporeal face was only a water drop,
the primitive one looks see-through it has dead zero
knowledge of its lively other side of the pool.
She comes closer and perfectly mirrors both sides
that shines through on her reflected face on the water.
An absolute new image that livens up the dead part
Bang - Big Bang! The corporeal world gets the spark
explodes out from the very first drop of the water!

Fathima's appearance was miraculously instrumental
God reveals nature the finite and infinite, 0 and 1,
future in the present and the death and life in play!
Nature follows suit it just saw the perfect role model
banged out but only to its corporeal set
it aspires to be with its infinite reality yet!

Fathima leaves the door open constructing a perfect circle,
hardly straight, took the mixed bag of countless variations
she zooms into the abyss irrational portion of the first matter,
the primitive water drop and aces the circle with her hair
that nothing can equate throughout the corporeal world.
Done the math discovering the zero starting point at the bottom.
The ocean of digit numbers, the DNA of all things material
banged out of it, still, the zero is numberless irrational!

(7)
All things, within oneself and in a set constantly vibrate,
strive to align with the enduring reality of itself.
The atom vibrates to reach out to its immortal portion
that doesn't die and is in the know of its lower base.
The planets are in a defined circular orbit, accurately measured
just the apex on top of their dynamic pyramid the pyramidon
is tucked away; they too have an irrational portion in the circle.

With the finest spin, they zoom in the spacious universe,
in part and like the sun outside the constellations round they go
never miss a target line yet to re-discover Fathima's perfect circle
the origin of their digital essences' breakthrough
the door to their transcended destination de jour.
Lo the matter turns the last stone pulsing across the cosmos
the mortal horizontal spread, the spirit returns home.

The earth has a line in its swansong it has a place in paradise
it's not here to stay for good neither to perish forever!

Matters form and break without losing the rope,
it's not to paint the shades of the eternal blue
but to ace an irrational portion in the circle
at the heart of the earth, as above, so below.  
The deep the high the perfect circle
up and down the centre of gravitation for all!

At even and at odd the vibration within the matter is fluid
somewhere is parched there the arch matter must make a splash.
Far away on that dark beach, the full-fledged sea of the matters
outpours its billowy potion with the Moon on the frontline
from deep within the physical world's most glowed up firefly!

(8)
The seven seas swell up smoothly into the moonlight-dip
oh, the waterless Moon at the core is still fasting.
Led by time the sweet swan punting along the waves
streams down the watery inner circle of the planets.
Until stuck in the Moon no water in the last waterfront
but paradise is on the other side of the pool!  

The sun dips away into the night
while the eve baths in the shades of pink and gold,
the dazzling hues soon turn to taupe.
Drawing down painting the picture in full colour
only to find the time is up on the halfway,
yet to print a colour copy of the night!
The other unseen half is passed down to the Moon
tiptoeing in slow motion in the depths of the night
barely keeping the head afloat in a fathomless ocean
of shades of black hails from where knows no one.  

The sun enkindles the moon half-lit keeping itself away
amid shadows as if comparing the shades now it knows
a Mehrem a veiled female is ahead not to look on or
compared to that the sun has no light or true are both.

Wrapped in the eternal night beneath its black mole
once the moon on the front approaching most close
directly down to the centre of the earth eyes on
over that inlaid string hairy black perfect circle
never did it turn back the same gaze is still on
orbiting around the earth in synchronous rotation.

(9)
The never-ending night is becoming a night indeed
it's coming to an end so soon in our time.
In Shaa Allah I will see it with my eyes before I die
in the Night of Measures in an odd night in Ramadan
Fathima from the transcendental end of irrational heart
will turn on top of the curve opening for the first time
a 9-degree angle in the circle at the centre of the earth.

Instantly the leading force, time will get the first sniff
of the other world, so peaceful heart-melting serene.
Rapturous time feeling an ounce of the enduring peace
for the first time cutting all the corners with ease
will be propelled into its yet uncharted golden mean.
Scurrying to the peaceful abode time will be on its wings
across the globe, people will be stunned seeing
how first the times pass from then on incredibly quick!

Fathima, the first spiritual woman on duty, will start
pulling her hair back off the circle at the centre
Juxtaposed in between the worlds of here and hereafter.
She will take back every inch of it, the heavenly bodies
will feel the pinch of her every little subtle pull
that too is a boon helping them perfect their circle.

(10)
Soon she opens it just 9-degree wide at first
the Moon will see a glimpse of the first drop of water.
Without it, it's living perched without the water of life
that's destined to rain down soon and the Moon
back into its original pond shall revive!
Mapping the pi's whole infinitesimals playground
finally, Fathima will turn the circle upside down
on the dot the stunned sun shall rise in the western sky!

By now under Fathima's hair's shaded closed circle
it must have sailed far over the blue sky in the other world.
Billowing with the breeze over the sea of uncharted water
and stacking to the brim with all that it could discover
humbly stood like a cloud in that corner of the sky.

The time is finally ticking fast to rain down with love
paradise's welcoming schema rendering in waterpaint drops
on the Moon over the sea of matters, that's most glowed up firefly
ah, finally can break the fast sipping in a drop of elixir!
It's their heavenly adopted, Miʿrāj performed, primitive water.
The Moon with the seven seas will leave off the corporeal shell
gliding gracefully with this stately water nymph as if it never dies
and will make a splash plopping into the pond of paradise!  

For the matter ultimately is water and its extent is sound
Fathima will fetch it the water of life and take it to the next life!
Oh, the matter shall do both die and revive with Israfil's sound
the cloud will fly out of the dead water on the ground,
like the earth with chorus songs of the rain revives.
When that a melodious nymph in the water makes waves
see paradise is here the Moon over the sea can't take off its eyes.

(11)
Hang on though they all set ready on their horizontal span  
to pull in such a fluid yet colourful descending like a rainbow swan.
First chaste Fathima will evaporate her hair's perfume away
that's yet lingering in the water warming it up to its premium
no crowd then can see where this heady, fragrant cloud will fly!
There are the momentum and delights where that will alight.

Israfil might then blow his trumpet swooning the world away
the secret will remain a secret exception is said in the Qur'an.
A strange sound will silence the chorus of the innate digits
collapsing the floating cosmos bubbling on their music.  
The corporeal circle will collapse as if there is no base no pi
the melody of the first word Qun means Be will still be loud
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so how can we all expire?

Israfil too will play his reviving trumpet pure mellifluous
and In Shaa Allah numerically perfect Fathima will rise
amidst the resonant Qun as like she did in the beginning
when except prophet Muhammad (PBUH) there was nothing!
Now the earth once zeroed in beneath her hair will follow her
the stunned terra will discover Fathima took her hair away
only to shift the constellation up onto the upper world!

The old songs of the planets the chorus of the digits will revive
from the zero bases in the core the digital panache that dance
planet upon the planet as if they are always at the perfect hertz.

Indeed that is yet to come, the arts of the fine layers
opening from the irrational pi, the finest one is to flower
when Fathima will unloop her circled hair at the centre
piercing the very immanent irrational cut
that no creation can fathom only the loving creator Allah
will turn odd to even in between the here and hereafter
then the ocean stuck in deep salt shall turn to enduring potion!
The As-Sirat shall turn to be the bridge to paradise
the body shall revive with the enduring soul forever
and with ah Fathima couple shall enter paradise In Shaa Allah
with the rhapsody 'all praise is for Allah' Alhamdulillah!
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2017
Without it, the earth is no earth,
I (the primeval feminine)
have no doubt, the prophet
circle is my witness I touched
the bottom of her water!

Zeroed into her zero neigh
and circled it with my hair,
laid down for it the foundation
hardwired with my circle.
judy smith May 2016
Don’t take them at face value. Several leading actresses in Mollywood have shown themselves to be keen businesswomen too. So, if Poornima Indrajith, a fashionista in her own right and designer-in-chief of fashion store Pranaah, was the lone name in the list till recently, Kavya Madhavan, Lena, Kaniha, Shwetha Menon, Rima Kallingal and the like too have joined the fray to establish their credentials as entrepreneurs.

While Kavya owns Laksyah, an online fashion store, Rima runs Mamangam, a dance school in Kochi. Lena is busy with Aakruti, her weight-loss centre. Kaniha’s focus is on health care, as a franchise partner of Medall Diagnostics in Chennai. Shwetha, meanwhile, has opened a restaurant, Shwe’s Delight, in Dubai. Mallika Sukumaran owns Spice Boat, a restaurant in Doha, Qatar… The actresses talk at length to MetroPlus about why and how they went about it, the lessons they learnt and what lies ahead.

For Kavya it was the realisation of a long-cherished dream; of starting a business venture while she is at the peak of her career. “I zeroed in on a fashion boutique from several other options, such as dance school, beauty parlour, restaurant…,” says Kavya. “It was the safest and best choice because my father had been in the textile business back home in Neeleeswaram for nearly four decades. My brother, Midhun is a graduate in fashion technology and my mother and my sister-in-law too share the same passion. Laksyah is really a family-run enterprise,” she adds. Laksyah, which sells a range of one-off designer saris and daily wear and based out of Kochi, will be celebrating its first anniversary next month.

It was a photoshoot that lead Lena to open Aakruti. She had to lose a few kilos to get in shape for the shoot and her childhood friend, Louisa David, a physiotherapist, helped her achieve that goal. “I was happy with my weight loss and so we decided to launch a physiotherapy-based slimming centre. Louisa has been running her centre at Thrissur for five years and she helped me start Aakruti, in Chevayur, Kozhikode, in September last year,” Lena says.

Kaniha, always a multi-tasker, has a solid reason for taking the health care route too. It was the closest she could get to her childhood ambition to pursue medicine! “After coming back to India from the United States, my husband, Shyam Radhakrishnan and I wanted to start something. Since I couldn’t fulfil my dream of becoming a doctor and had to study engineering instead, I thought I should do something related to healthcare and that’s how Medall happened,” says the actress.

In Shwetha’s case, her restaurant was a venture waiting to happen. “In fact, those who know me for long are not surprised with my decision to open a restaurant. I am an absolute foodie. I am so very careful about what I eat that my cook always travels with me on my shoots. I also love hosting family and friends and often hold pyjama parties at home. That’s why a restaurant was the obvious choice when I thought about starting a venture,” says Shwetha. Shwe’s Delight [“I was called Shwe by my friends in modelling circuit”], which opened its doors last month, is a North Indian fine dining restaurant. “I wanted to give expatriate Malayalis in Dubai a different taste from the usual fare. We dish up a bit of Chinese food too,” she adds.

Being a celebrity helps, most of the time, especially to get publicity, say the leading ladies. For instance, Kaniha says she could bank upon her celebrity status to get corporate tie-ups. They also talk of brand value going up when a known face opens a venture. “There is a certain level of trust with potential customers because you are a known face,” explain Shwetha and Lena. “On the flipside, you are always under scrutiny. At times, I feel acting is much easier,” adds Shwetha. Kavya says it is not easy being the face of Laksyah. “I can’t go wrong with what I wear!” she adds, with a laugh.

Celeb status and a pretty face, though, is no guarantee for a successful business. All the actresses say that they put in a lot of hard work to get their businesses up and running. “The execution part was not easy, be it finding the right location, getting the interiors done, purchasing the machinery, appointing qualified staff, training them and even finalising the colour of the uniform. But I have become more confident now that we are opening a new branch in Kochi,” explains Lena. Kaniha, meanwhile, admits that she has learnt to be “more patient and be diplomatic.” Well played.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/cheap-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/****-formal-dresses
IsReaL E Summers Dec 2014
Parts placed in the Machine
Stamped out from a larger piece
Repetitive in nature
They just keep coming
Hordes upon hordes
GOOD LORD
THIS IS ALLOT
But its my plague
No room for the vague
Micrometer zeroed
Bending hero
I conform to fit in
And still get rejected
I guess this factory called life...
Just has zero tolerance.
Forgiveness
K Balachandran Jul 2013
A forest adventure-we didn't plan it that way at all,
the call of the wild prompted us, is all I can now guess
hand in hand in to the woods we ventured like two possessed,
magical, it felt, we soon disappeared, from the eyes of curious intruders.

erogenous scent of damp earth, after the first sprinkling of monsoon clouds,
pepped up our interest in hunting mushrooms
popping up everywhere, like fragments of white clouds descended,
we pulled out, egg shaped mushrooms that came in to our view
the frenzy we fell in to,  possessed us in total,
after all we we are also young and hot blooded,

We competed like hounds in hot pursuit,
ran, collided with each other, fell down,
with a gentle thud, upon each other.
She did lay flat, face down on my chest,
I smelt,musk on her neck a slow intoxicant
and mushrooms hidden in her both armpits,
which I pursued and found out,we were getting hot,
in pursuit of each other's secrets.
the world, we had forgotten completely for long!!

We didn't see evening light melt and
darkness spread stealthily over the woods
that engages the robust body of the night,
from the rendezvous, of these secret lovers,
we sneaked out and saw lighted torches,
approach us from all four directions.

they zeroed in on us,"Who goes there?"
a harsh voice asked,
"This, do you know, is the holy grove,
of mother goddess, strictly  watched
for not to be get desecrated
by people who seek some sort of adventure,
such an act never goes unpunished,
we'll search you and find what you did"

We held out mushrooms before them,
and I saw each face turning  a lotus!
"where did you get this,? Oh! so much!,
Those are so rare and any one is able to pluck it,
only if mother goddess is pleased"

And then we realized this,
in that forbidden sacred wood,
between us a miracle has happened!
that pleased the mother goddess
of the woods,  the blessed presence,
aren't we then  the chosen ones?







,
Àŧùl Feb 2015
Always it does,
But I can't shiver,
Coldest in the river,
Deathly river of tears,
Excruciating is the pain,
Filthy salty water it flows,
Grandiose in society kills me,
Hefty personal problems prey,
I can't swallow so I don't eat any,
****** of ego I turn into since long,
Killed me multiple times in a go daily,
Lovelorn I die each moment I try to cry,
Mouthful of unfriendly words help me die,
Name of mine means incomparable literally,
Ostensible concept of love entices me so much,
Put me in a jail and stuff me behind the bars now,
Quailing me is the loneliness that has been forever,
Ruling out few occasions of company I stay so aloof,
Sparing some days of happiness most are depressing,
Toying with my own heart I feel my heart is hydrogen,
Unattractive it is not & it could not stay segregated ever,
Volumes of my voice have died out & so has my hearing,
Wailing deep in my heart I let this sorrow seep in to sink,
Xenophobic I ain't but of course I dislike enemies of love,
Yucky thoughts of people assassinated my love last night,
Zeroed in on the catalyst -strange enough- she herself is it.
She has no idea that what hurt me,
But it's okay because she is not lonely.

I don't feel self-pity because I can't,
I just hate the 7th of May, 2010.

I should have died back then,
It would have been a lot peaceful.

My HP Poem #770
©Atul Kaushal

Only 7 more poems till I take a long leave.
Christine Nov 2012
Assaulted once again,
Betrayed by the ones she loved,
Consumed with utter sadness,
Dehumanized in every way.
Embarrassed by what they made her do,
Fearful that there's more to come,
Heartbroken and humiliated,
Inadequate in all she does.
****** around with such great force,
Kept quiet with threats of death,
Laughed at as she cries in pain,
Mistreated and manipulated
One broken heart left on display.
Pain they left within their wake,
Robbed of all her happiness,
Scared to trust again.
Trapped within their shadow,
Uncertain of my fate,
Victimized for the final time,
Worthless mindset overcome.
X'd out all the lies you told me,
Yearning for all that I deserve,
Zeroed out of my heart forever, as I take my final stand and finally leave today.
Louis Brown May 2012
I was checking out the girls
Looking for a dance
When I got close enough
I saw her come on glance
I asked, "Do you two step"
She looked into my eyes
She said,  "Honey, do you know
You're a mindreader in disguise"

JUST A DOWN HOME BOY
UPTOWN SATURDAY NIGHT
I WAS COUNTRY BACKWOODS
SHE'S BIG CITY LIGHTS
I WAS LOOKING FOR A CHEVY
WHEN A JAG ROLLED IN SIGHT
JUST A DOWN HOME COUNTRY BOY
UPTOWN SATURDAY NIGHT

Her perfume was awesome
It hit me like a truck
When it comes to being lucky
I never had so much
My first trip in the fast lane
i could feel the fun begin
While we talked about the weather
I felt a warm front moving in

REPEAT

With my long legged, two legged dear
Already zeroed in
It was hard to keep my fever
Under a hundred and ten

REPEAT
Jaymi Swift Apr 2013
It started out a day like any other.
Down at Billy Bobs Nuclear Power Plant and toaster repair.
Where I sit in front of the monitor
with my dumb blank look and stare.

Until my friend Jim came in,
with coffee, doughnuts, and a magazine, he had grabbed from the john.
Wouldn't you know it the centerfold was gone.
So, I stood up to stretch and yawn.

As I sat back down I knocked over the coffee,
And the jelly doughnut rolled out the door into the hall.
The array of toasters went up in flames,
as did the magazine and the wall.

Jim started talking like Captain Kirk,
as he went into his Star Trek mode.
I slapped him hard across the face,
and informed him this Enterprise was set to blow.

That's when we both turned and saw the florescent green ooze,
seeping under the door.
At that point it was every man for himself,
as I pushed the elevator for the 13th floor.

Leaving the babbling Jim behind,
with the elevator on its way,
pipping in a soft musical version
of Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze.

(which seemed to me rather odd)

Once the doors slid open,
thinking there's never been a 13th floor before,
I was surrounded by flesh eating zombified rodents,
About to become their lunch de jour.

As the zombie rodents zeroed in,
my friend Jim showed up...What luck.
With communicator in hand, and in his best Kirk voice,
He said, "Scotty beam us up".

As we were high in the sky,
I saw half of the south implode.
As boring as this day started,
you never would have know'd.

I hated to leave the world behind,
In such a mess, after my coffee spill.
One thing I did leave, believe you me,
Was Duncan Doughnuts the entire bill.
I can't claim this one.  If you read it you'll see it reeks of  Mike Hauser's  brilliant and  (somewhat odd) humor. Mike let me in on this one. Thanks Mike, it was a million laughs.
Megan Hoagland Mar 2015
Music pounding, I felt it in my bones
Bouncing around my ribcage;
The only place I've felt at home.
This intruder destroying the walls of my heart.
Debris falling like lead to the pit of my stomach.


The dizzying lights
And astounding heights.
Falling through space,
Seeing his face.

Music pounding, I felt it in my bones
Shaking around inside my skull
Voiding every thought, zeroed and null.
In a crowd of people, feeling alone.
Each breath of cool air, through every pore.

The dizzying lights
And astounding heights.
Falling through space,
Seeing his face.

Music pounding, I felt it in my bones.
And I wonder,
Where is my home?
As I slept, I wondered,
Where is my home?
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

This is for my ******
Who might need some schoolin'
With their different street names
Who y’all foolin'
It’s high time
That you peep it
Your government names
Ain’t no secret
What’s the point of having one anyway
Who you think invented (AKA)
They can capture you
From a satellite
Doin it under the covers
In the dead of night
Identifyin who is no mystery
They’ve got files on you full of history

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

There’s nothin that you’re doin
That they don’t know
Besides they’ve even got you
On video
And snitches that’ll tell ‘em
All they need to know
So if you ain’t aware
Then you must be slow
There are fewer secrets
Out on the street
Then you’re likely to find cops
Walkin' a beat
If it becomes necessary
I’ll repeat
Must I still hip you (to the game)
They already know your government name

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

****** always tryin to be
So secretive
Do ya really think
They don’t know where you live
Even what you carry
A gat or shiv
See they also know
What you’re about
And who receives the packages
That you give out
And just in case you still have any doubt
They’ll put a tail on you
Via the usual route
So don’t go thinkin
Cos they call you *****
Your government name is hard for them to figure

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

See if it takes me spittin
A hot sixteen
For y’all to understand
Exactly what I mean
I’m prepared to do it
Cos I’m very keen
On avoidin all the *******
That I’ve seen
I know you have identities
You’d like to protect
And I’m not comin at cha
With disrespect
But if you think a street name
If some kinda shield
It’s high time that the truth
Of the matter be reveiled

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

If ya used a celly
Or a land-line phone
Then you need to know
That you weren’t alone
And if you’ve ever e-mailed
Anyone
Forgiddaboutit
Cos tha damage is already done
Today they have cameras (everywhere)
There’s eyes (up in the skies)
That you need to fear
Zeroed in on you (with a constant stare)
So don’t start pointin figures
Or start placin blame
Because the government
Always knew your name

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

I call ya by the names
That your mama gave ya
You’re crazy if ya think
That’s how popo made ya
Cos they already knew
Who you were and (where you hanged)
They even knew the (names and numbers)
Of the chicks you banged
So you may think what you’re doin
Is really on the low
But that only goes to show
You don’t really know
I guess that’s why people say
Ignorance is bliss
Though that applies to a lot of things
It certainly does to this

Yeah I hear you
But just the same
I prefer you don’t call me
By my government name

This is for my ******
Who might need some schoolin'
With their different street names
Who y’all foolin
It’s high time
That you peep it
Your government names
Ain’t no secret
What’s the point of having one anyway
Who you think invented (AKA)
They can capture you
From a satellite
Doin it under the covers
In the dead of night
Identifyin who is no mystery
They’ve got files on you full of history
Shannon Dean May 2016
Abused, Abandoned and Alone,
Bound, Beaten and Bruised
Captured and Categorized
******, Defeated and Damaged
Encompassed
Faded, Failing, Flinching
Gagged
Hopeless, Helpless and Hospitalized
Idealized, Impaired and Intoxicated
Judged
Kicked, Kept and Kissed
Labelled,
Marked, Molested and Misguided
Neglected
Obeying, Observed and Offended
Panicking, Pummelled and Promised
Quivering and Quaking
*****
Screaming, Scared and Starved
Throttled, Thirsty and Thinning
Unloved and Unable
Victimized
Wailing, Weakening and Wondering
an X
Yelling, Yanked and Yielding
Zeroed
Trigger Warning: Poem talks about domestic abuse
Terry Collett May 2014
Shish kebabs
shish kebabs
that's all they have
Miriam said
as she sat
at the bar
of the base camp
in Morocco

I sat smoking
and drinking a Bacardi
they do salads
I said
in long French loaves
I have those
they’re healthier
and quite filling

she looked down
her nose
can't just have salad
she said
must have meat
of some kind

well don't look at me
I’m too skinny
for a decent meal

she laughed
and sat  
closer to me
at the bar
can you get me a drink?

sure what you having?

same as you

ok
Bacardi and coke it is
so I asked
the bar keep
for her drink  
and he went off
to get it
a cigarette hanging
from his lower lip
what did you think
of the belly dancer
last night?
I asked

not my thing
she said
but I see you liked it

yes it was a good experience
heard about them
but never
seen one before
last night
I said
the bar keep
brought her drink
and I paid him
he went off
and I said
how did you sleep?

not good
I had Moaning Minnie
with me
and she moaned
because I came in
the tent at 3am
what time
do you call this?
she moaned
some of us
are trying to sleep
she moaned on
for ages after
I think she was moaning still
in her dreams
I suppose you slept?
she said

yes I crept in my tent
and fell asleep over
my suitcase
I was too **** tired
to move it
and the ex-army guy
was zeroed

lucky you

not really
I would rather
have had you there
than him
snoring like some bear  

what makes you think
I’d sleep with you?

you did the other night
after the beach party

she sipped her drink
and looked
at the menu card
that was different
she said

yes it was
I said
we went in your tent
and Moaning Minnie
came in
and turfed me out

Miriam smiled
if she'd come
five minutes earlier
she'd have got
an eyeful

yes that
would have been
a bundle of laughs

Miriam ordered
a salad roll
and sipped
her Bacardi and coke  

I sipped mine
and enjoyed my smoke.
boy and girl in Morocco in 1970
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
St. John, the Evangelist, wrote the book of revelations,
the Latin world immediately thought
it was aimed at the Hebrew,
but the masochistic lacerations of the Jews
left intact, hardly slave-worthy, hardly imaginative
to build a Coliseum, instead worthy of
the hanging garden of Iran and the pyramids..
skyscrapers of Manhattan with only one room in
it, and some ***** trap passages to reach the riches,
like at Giza, when one hoped that one
sand people left the Koran for another sand people,
an it was all Brothers Grimm fairy ending: happily
ever after... the book of revelation
chapter 13 verse 3... how did i survive a brain
haemorrhage and revive a fully functioning
skeleton so quick? ask Rasputin,
no, i'm pretty sure Rasputin would care to mention
the poisoned *****... level the bastion square of
former William conquering, the Bastille echoed in
history like a footprint of a peasant standing ground
to what became downfall, and subsequent harvest...
an Austrian woman undermined a shy man
by giving out metaphors of cake...
she understood less when lionel logue was
worth that banknote of cinematic endeavour...
Stephen "shaky" Parkinson ploughed the lot...
saints like rats i close numbering,
one atheist attacked the woman of Calcutta,
another atheist attacked the man of Wadowice...
i would like to think that prior nationalism of
my forefathers meant something, in the least
ensuring i stay in the lands of potato and *****...
i was given the chasm of childhood's decision
having not clear basis for rationality,
as necessarily escaping what i wished eternity to be:
a bike ride of 60 kilometres in summer,
and hardly anyone wishing to diffuse my balances...
poetry is a cryptology, once it encounters symbolism
of sedated phonetics it comes across philosophy pausing
at Egyptology... the triage, tri, angle, primed 90
heading toward the crown or a rebirth of not acknowledging
the prime leisure of caesarian and reinserting the head
to wobble into the longest Nile of cluing divisions
as based on lost imagination: science has simply evaporated
chances of imagination - scientific imagination is reduced
to schematics - concrete arithmetic procedures
and paying attention to nothing while playing games
hardly resembling the japanese square and the karaoke culture
readying only teens to buy the crap...
imagine being an adult easily paying rent,
having a marriage, a dual life as a homosexual e.g.,
having left school, and mastered life with fancies
to be later equivalent of a G.C.S.E. grade in your personal life...
the book of revelation does not address the Hebrews:
written by Greeks, it was written for Byzantium,
that the Arabs clarified Aristotle sooner than Byzantium
is this obsession with bureaucracy - st. john
was also a mr. smithy joe-joe... the greeks lost the plot,
the book of revelation addresses greek naiveness,
it doesn't address Hebrew stubbornness,
given that: every greek would nod to avoid being
member of the Holocaust, while every Hebrew would
nod to engage being member of the Holocaust...
but still the Polish question... who were given neither
reparations by Germans, nor were included in the
Marshall Plan... but were given a "de facto" system
of economics that was "bound to fail", you'd need
one Pole to be a pope, to be later a saint for this to be real,
for the great dispersion... ever see a Polish girl get spat
on her face by her "master" dutch boyfriend when
speaking civilised tongue about her ambitions?
GERMANY WELCOMES SYRIA... that's Poland's
care for receiving reparations from Nazis, point no. 1.
point no. 2, Israel is mentioned in Eurovision
and in the European football championship...
oh come on... get comfy in your promised land!
the irony is that Australia is contesting a voice from too!
a torn apart revival? it's hardly a revival if the
lettering didn't disappear and wasn't replaced by arabic,
thank us for your allowance of earning money,
digitalising us, toward a perpetual analysis without
care to synthesise anything unusual that wasn't already
unusually analysed to this needle-point of
a unit of tsunami synthesis - comparably a year denied,
zeroed, convergence of the algebraic trinity with
all three unknowns: x, y, z - the book of revelation addresses
the foolery of the greeks, so much wisdom prior,
and yet so much foolery and laziness kindred to
the holy text of the hebrews under the prophet's name
Malachi... Muhammad has the leverage, being
a prophet-merchant, rather than a prophet-pauper -
bogatemu wszystko wolno.
The sting of its tail is oh so sharp
I should know it has pierced my heart
Injecting it's amorous venom
All while I lay upon pure linen

My tail and my horns tried to block it's path
But it found a way around my wrath
Softened me up with its silver tongue
Before I knew I was undone

My fault I'm sure
this hunter at heart
I zeroed in on my prey
I chose my mark

Did not expect
for it to hunt me instead
I realized too late
He was in my head

I try to want to shake him off
To no avail
He has me in his grasp
Upon my being, his venom has assailed
#capricorn #scorpio #****
Maryrose Alarcos Jan 2015
In the midst of a crowd
In the middle of chaos
In the ****** of deep thoughts
Came the best five seconds of my life

It took my a jiffy
To recognize that bag
To remember that hairstyle
To realize that presence

And I was right
It is really you
After days of longing
You came and ended my suffering

To say that it was short
To mention my obliviousness
To describe that moment
Five seconds is already enough

Everything was in slow motion
At that moment, it was only you
My attention zeroed to your figure
It was the longest five seconds of my existence

Today, I thank the heavens
For letting you appear in my most stressful hour
I thank them with all my heart
For coming at my least expected place

Now, I can finally face tomorrow
With a smile extending to my ears
A mind contented with thoughts of you
And a heart fulfilled with pure bliss

See you soon, my dear
*I'll patiently wait for our next five seconds of sanity.
LOL! this is a part two of longing....
S Smoothie Jan 2018
Your eyes keep outlining the shape of your desires

Transposed on to my body

Watching you watching me

No secret, im left exposed

Vulnerabilities exploited

with a mere flicker of the eye

Primed eyes locked

Its the moment

Flight or fight

Zeroed in on my waist,

a triangulation of anticipated pleasures

Eyes drawn up,
the signal fire is lit

a flourish of your jacket like a bullfight

Swaggering towards me

arm raised in another flicker

the resounding crack of a slap breaking

broke the air

Fear panic and dread.

frozen.

And yet,  the kiss left

was soft warm and gentle

Weaving the shape of a homely warmth

that as soon you broke away

left a chasm so cold

i was driven to clamour for it

Only for a second though,

You know what a stubborn ***** i am.

Admitting it was never an option.

Even with my breath in your mouth.

Still when asked what i felt

You know my reply.


First draft

Your eyes keep outlining the shape of your desires

Transposed on to my body

Watching you watching me

No secret, im left expised

Vulnerabilities exploites with a mere flicker of the eye

Primed eyes locked

Its the moment

Flight or fight

Zeroed in on my waist a triangulation of anticipated pleasures

Eyes drawn up the signal fire is lit a flourish of your jacket like bullfight

Swaggering towards me arm raised in flicker the resounding crack of a slap breaking broke the air

Fear panic and dread frozen

And yet the kiss left was soft warm and gentle

Weaving the shape of a homely warmth that as soon you broke left a chasm so cold i was driven to clamour or your warmth

Only for a second though,

You know what a stubborn ***** i am.

Admitting it was never an option.

Even with my breath in your mouth.
Soury water flow
Ceaseless tears last till death days
I die a millionth living years
Lesion of wound reddish show

I am a victim of war relic
Can't you see, my burnt house
My pair of rag clothe
My battered ink of ignorance

Queuing for a feed
Begging for a drink
**** in a homeless bridge
Conscripted as a child soldier

Can't you see, I am the war relic ?
Voice of refugees status I am
Rebel to my homeland I run
Deprived by mortal quest for power

Politics of hatred wash me to bank of ocean
Can't you see I have one arm, one eye, one embroidery parts
Can't you see am a victim of power mongers
I have foolishly support their quest

I have shouted for the nuke to be test
Justifying their foolish context
they ran away to have a succor of rest
When the war bullet penetrate the wall

I am decorated as a zeroed hero
Holding crutches leaping like a dog
So bad I am abandoned in a refugee camp
Can't you see I am the worst victim of war with relatives buried and burned
with fire of sand and the gods watch without intervention

by
Martin Ijir
Onoma Jun 2017
standing under a pinetree--
large zeros, zeroed in on
smaller ones.
till a bee's buzz was sourced.
a bumblebee banging against
a marble-size hole in a bough.
with every aerial fumble,
a buzz's bang--
the sound of baited breath.
till it cleared the hole with a fluid
wedge, its bulbous but pulsing.
its blinking black sheen eaten by
the hole.
as my mind ratiocinated: access
granted!
Fourteen paces apart
They stood face to face
The place was Belvedere
In death’s close embrace!

It was morn at half past five
Air thick in rivalry
On stake was hung two life
They were bitter enemy!

As it lies all evil’s root
False ego and vain pride
Squabble and dispute
Demons men can’t hide!

That hour was eerily lull
Birds stopped to chirp in trees
As glistened the two pistols
And none could afford to miss!

Damp was the August clime
Time perched on rested wing
Zeroed in the scheduled time
Broke out the starter’s ring!

Francis fired first
But preordained was fate
Though loud went the burst
He badly missed target!

Pierced his powder’s stings
This time was there no miss
Found his mark Hastings
Fell to the ground Francis!

He muttered I’m a dead man
Hastings ran to the spot
Uttering as he ran
Good God I hope not!

The day turned golden bright
Mist of smoke dispersed
Revealed the glorious sight
How his enemy Hastings nursed!
In August 17, 1780, the then Governor General of Bengal Warren Hastings fought a duel at a site near Belvedere, Alipore, Kolkata with Philip Francis, a Council Member to settle their personal enmities and disputes.
please excuse the gross lingo in this write
but using it will add some genuine bite
last night Jack's freezer called on our town
leaving a big frost blanket well behind
its chilliness stayed fixed to my rind
the temperature was minus of degrees
there came a feeling cold in toes and knees
everything most certainly zeroed down
holy crap them winter ides aren't too good
they shivered through my old frames wood
three more months of a bitter frigid brace
summer's warmth has departed these parts
which means I'll be up for Jacko's white starts
climes such as his are so hard to face
Maryrose Alarcos Dec 2015
The frosty holiday breeze
flowed against my pale exterior
as I walked over white paralleled lines.
And as if fate was on my side,
I met a pair of dark brown orbs
all too familiar
all too beautiful.
In an instant my line of sight zeroed
on those enchanting eyes,
I was left in a sweet daze.
This figure I know all too well
sent shivers into my own.
Time seemed to stop
as we our gazes locked
and everything else was a blur.
For a moment,
it was only us.
mike dm Aug 2014
Zeroed
Options slim
Slept in

Him
A boy once
A life

That still had pull

The push
Is near
I can feel it
I can feel it

Nothing or I'm dresser drawer ajar
Milk spilled ---- fulcrum

Whitened zeros
Cascade on linoleum coulda-been's
Watch him
Objectify
Halfeaten lies

Immolation of self
Pokes
Reminds

And so
There really is
Nowhere to get to

Nothing more to say
Diána Bósa Sep 2017
Sum
Sum this all up: mind
zeroing in on that you
can't be zeroed out.
Michael W Noland Oct 2013
Super
Hero

Zero Uno

Hears no
Ear fulls

Fears no
Beers whole

Strolls all over here

But Zero Uno
Zeroed on fools gold

Yonder uno upon a pier

Where Nero
And Brunno

Steer those
Heros clear

And you know



Splash
Dressed-N-Venom Mar 2016
I'm familiar with the bottom
I used to live there
My neighbors wore the same dress code
We greeted eachother with the familiar language of the Struggle
Hearing the cries of the people when they were in disbelief of times of supreme demise
A muted tongue from what life had done
Destruction to a Middle Class family
Payed a visit to my front door
The Bottom caught my fall
And replaced my sorrows with ambition
To ignite action and propell us from the past
Flowers sprouting through the cracks of concrete.
The World so big zeroed in on the piece of earth i lived in
A small fractured piece
A shadow in the wilderness
Looking for resources
And then.... It was then that I found the missing pieces .......
The pieces....To BUILD
A world so small had begun to grow so Tall in mY World
Once living in destitude
Now living amongst the multitude
A Family of THREE became Many
The bottom I knew all so well
But a vision came to me and the idea began to swell
The story unfolds as the story gets told
Days are pages
Obstacles overcome are Chapters
And The End.....    is the Beginning
And Climbing got me HERE!!!!!
notification of fire evacuation 
     slated to occur 
April 12th, 2018 (between the hours 
     of 9:00 am and 12 pm) did spur
me to validate Google asper,
 
that direct object heave ving, 
     his pro noun sub bull, verb bose, 
ingenious American historical figure 
     attired in tailored clothes

careful, sans his just keen 
     liberal mien pro
     claiming maxim necessity to doze
when body politik needs to *** juiced up

     and doth need restorative source 
     analogous to drained battery expose
zing lack of electricity 
     mechanisms need did tubby supplied 
     (in one direction) flows

accorded stealing thunder and lightening 
     from Zeus where prominence glows  
vis a vis via leaving 
     his tell tale fingerprints 
     upon flame inextinguishable hose

imprimatur of renown Founding Father, 
     a one man gifted born
improved quality of life 
     during Colonial American stage 

     buttressing forlorn
during his deux score and four years 
     fledgling United States heed add horn
bequeathing blueprints 

     (functional contraptions, 
     posthumous patents procured 
     after populace did mourn
     gadgets kickstarting leveraging more novel 

     Ongepatshket prescience, 
     quietly revolutionary, 
     strikingly timesaving), 
     utilitarian value shorn
tattered stitched timeless totemic tenets torn 
     unimagined visionary watershed worn,
where underworld webbed wide world burned 
with thermal coupling that churned
ferocious infernos 
     describing how Hades learned

tubby managed 
     to maximize efficiency 
zealousness zeroed Zyder Zee 
     in said Netherlands

and hellish hot house turned
into a near utopia (More
     or less nsync) with Doubting Thomas's,
where many mortals yearned

to escape corrupt fat cats, sans
     those condemned to mortality
     found minimally a mew
zing, and doggedly trudged 10,000 leagues

     under the sea, entombing
     jewels for vernacular speaking Josephine shew
wing scars from fire 
     that threatened Philadelphians thorough

lee hence, forcing many civilians 
     to dive vining Davy Jones's locker pre view 
     in 1736 after swallowing embalming fluid 
     ha I did "FAKE" you
     tubal heave poetic pablum from human zoo!
he wipes his glass clean
she wipes his glass clean
his  glass   hers
  to see    in
       the fold of   her   being
she   sees   to it  all clearing;

  and things to fulmination
committing a steady ******   into
   the   silence, this   afternoon

I think to   myself

   wardrobes  tossed
hers,      somewhere there,   in oblivion
    temporary,   absolute,
  zeroed in, sexed up against   walled-up contention

  our  legs  a tribe
of   hounds,   our   fingers
     feathering  light    through   his   glass
  she    wiped   clean
     with       her      emissions
                           eyes    wide   as morning

somewhere by a mountainside,    horses
   ride   into    the Sun
and he   thinks    of  
      repetitive  lapping    of   floundered  waves
to    bite shore
   and she   thinks   herself

           a    verse     punctuated
open    still
           to  
                        revisions
I was astound astronaut
Haphazard
Buckled up in cockpit
Of rocket ready for blast
It was zeroed down
Moments were intense
I was tense
My heart lost its art
No way…..
It was zero and blast
I was taken aback, soon
It took off to alarming heights
Jolted my heart and soul
Soon dauntless vehicle
Zoomed into sky above
The bow of blue blown above
I was flabbergasted
I was in the midst of stars
On and all around
I heaved a sigh, well neigh,
My ship was nearing
An alien planet to align
I was speeding up
Swerving my way in hilly tracks
On mysterious land and only land
Of curves, curls, colors n’ collars
I was running short of breath
The rocking rocket made its retreat
At its predestined time  
And put me back into my soul
No sooner I woke up from spell
Realized, I was not in suit
But in sweat
At Epcot in Disney Land!
Spike Harper Dec 2015
At long last.
The cement has dried.
Casting a laughable hue on this decrepit hill.
Has the air always been this thick.
Gravity seems to want more than I can stand.
I wish not to instill this image in my mind.
Yet as I gaze upon the casted hand.
There is no real explanation.
For this miniscule action to have even..
Come to be.
But thus it has.
Formulated in the very consciousness that guided these dreaded feet forth.
A relic of old it is.
Glory.
And now simply a need to be remembered.
As i search my desolate suroundings.
Does one begin to truly understand.
Meaning to such action.
Loses its definition.
With every lingering moment that eternity allows.
What a distorted rendition this constant reel has made.
Yet this came from nowhere also.
Right?
Loathing the next pace.
Yet comforted in knowing.
That imprint will one day fade.
Ghastly remnants of failure.
Remodeled bone.
The sight from these very eyes.
What comes of the endless.
endurance of fame.
A life in search of the meaning it never had.
Detest.
Expectation.
Inhibition.
The compass supposedly zeroed at due society.
Let the rise and fall of this chest be testement.
A moment.
Is just a moment.
There is only one key.
Choose.
What may.
Enter.
Exhaled when sexed up a hole in a thing
particular is this day surprisingly surpassing

without end, if when volatile
consider stasis; ripples initial a signature

on plainclothes this Sunday. Silenced
his fist over dinner, this raconteur of beginning

splits to an end tracing a line between
stiffened    voice prior to   mouthing it so:

we have nothing to do here but absence zeroed
in like a marksman. Rendered it full

to a trembling gait stooping over parallels,
put it inside a box and hem it into a trundling vessel

send it to the edge of sun gruff with fever
   your derelict day inside this news.
andy fardell Aug 2013
I know not now of my face
or my voice
Will I be tall
Maybe walk with a limp
I do not know these things that I be
Because I'm not born yet
A zero you see

I have some 9 months for I
breath in this world
A time for my life base
A boy or a girl
No sky to look out on
I'm waiting you see
I need to kick out first
Let roar
Let me free

I need to grow strong so I cope with
your world
I need a new voice
Some fingers and curls
I hope I'm all there but it
Don't matter to me
I'll be who I want to
As long as I breath

The time has moved on
and the hour is ready
My clock is near started
I've zeroed the hour
Awaken the world cos here I do come
New life for the future
A fathers new son
Iliana Apr 2020
from the sun-dappled emerald green plains
to the mountainous tides of the deep blue,
i will search for a dream settled in the history of our time.

my dream clouds will sit atop the north
like pillows placed on a bed
too materialistic to sleep on and too minimalistic to dream about.

caged?

Vadym Komarov, June 20th, 2019 - ******

hold me down.
i can see the story fluttering in the light,
but they do not let me out.

they keep me caged like a siberian tigress
bound to the melting frosted forests
our planeted body had provided for her.

they keep me caged.

whirlpool

a step in the sandy dunes of the Sahara has me dry.
the only thing i inhale is silence and sand.
the grainy ridges seen in the distance slowly weather,
until they are nothing but quicksand whirlpools.
as i fall into one, i can only think, “let me out of here”.

it holds me down.

Obed Nangbatna, May 25th, 2019 - Crossfire

spotlight

Lyra Mckee, April 18th, 2019 - Crossfire

in which the moon dances with the sun in a waltz.
even dancing with the moon,
the sun sprays its spotlight on the earth.

what is that?

it shoots its rays on a portion of our world.
look, there it is,
dancing amongst the skyscrapers,
galloping among the spray of bodies.
i wonder if i should follow it.

Ahmed Hussein-Suale Divela, January 16th, 2019

i follow the spotlight.

birthed

troy gave me my name.
the civilizations of Ilium,
the villages of Rhodope Mountains,
the flat plained city of Thessaloniki.

i want to run from them.
i can’t, so i run to them.

i find something.

crossfire

point blank guns are zeroed in on me
earthquakes rumble under my feet
as i stumble ahead.

refugees,
immigrants,

Leonardo Gabriel Hernández, March 17th, 2019 - ******

i guess we’re all the same.

Mojamed Ben Khalifa, January 19th, 2019 - Crossfire

monarchs,
Norma Sarabia Garduza, June 11th, 2019 - ******
tyrants,
Francisco Romero Díaz, May 16th, 2019 - ******
presidents,

different shades of governing bodies which diverge from our own political awareness

saints and sinners alike,
it doesn’t matter how much your soul is tainted.
we are all sainted souls that have sinned.

it just depends on whose part you play in the crossfire.

Amjad Hassan Balkir, June 18th, 2019 - Crossfire

tear

we live in ignorant bubbles,
cages of sort.
they are never ending
chasms of expectations and anxieties
our minds have conjured because of our complexities.
they prevent us from catching our stories, attaining our dreams.

i’ve fallen into whirlpools, followed my spotlight, retraced my birth, and plunged into a crossfire trying to escape my bubble.

i’ve followed my dream,
Jamal Kashoggi, October 2, 2018 - Dismembered
now will you follow yours?

housekeeping

i will make my bed,
fluff the pillows that were once
filled with my aspirations.
the pillows, now flat, vacant enough
to let new dreams puff them back up.

i make sure to leave the comforter untucked,
so the next dreamer can slide in easily,
slide into a place that once  sustained my adventures and stories.
i leave it untucked, leave the lights dim, and leave the door ajar.

i do not ever enter again.
A star-lit ballad plays for the dreamers who pursued their dream to the very end.
Jeanne wegner Jun 2018
Uncertainty
Life is filled with uncertainty
Our days on this earth are numbered
Yet we have zeroed in on an eternal future
A future that we all forget has not been guaranteed

Live these days. These moments. This lifetime as if it is your first and last.
Constantine Jul 2020
I hate this feeling
this is why i do drugs
because i'm scared to feel like this
im sweating in my bed and i cant sleep
only now do i wish so much for nothing to feel
nothing to touch or smell or see
i just want to be completely, Null, i want to not exist


is this the tragedy we are all born with?
Do we all just cope in different ways?
is mine just drugs?
will mine take me out?
i am not that lucky.
I hope venting here can bring my soul Peace , even if, just for a second.
Steven L Herring Mar 2021
Locked
cocked
and itching to rock 
Ready for an attack
of modern made wack-ness 
I already waged war once 
when I ripped my heart 
out of the blackness


Destruction!
I'm a killer son!
Y'all didn't know
Laser-focused aim
with words waiting to go!


Bullets don't fly slow
and they'll land true
like planes on a glide *****
While you stutter and stagger
I'll be in the breeze
because your words don't matter
begging on your knees


You can censor me
but I know my enemy
and I see you as a frenemy
it's plain to see
and easy like 1, 2, 3


I don't need to leap tall buildings
I got tnt!
I'll burn it down like a village
in a DMZ!
Take a break
for some cake
Yeah! 
Y'all know me!


Both barrels loaded!

— The End —