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Brian Duran Jan 2011
****** off metaphoric empowerment
Drained from mental imbalances
Constructed from symbolic injustices
Surviving political malpractices
Jaded mind and a jellyfish spine
Land minds and a dozen dimes
Days roll on this glass rock
All I hear is the tick and tock
Thirty three is all I read
Number seven is all I need
Fragmented thoughts and acquired taste
Requires thought of fragmented hate
Twisted tongue over a gun
It's old and useless, but cool and vintage
Copyright belongs to Citoc Productions
Nicholas N Jun 2017
Adoringly applauding
Arrogant acrobatic aristocratic,
Bourgeois bad-boys.
Braving boredom and bills,
Caught controlling criminal
Circles like a circus.
Daring to do, and to deceive
Desperate damsels in distress,
Each accepting enemies.
Everyone explaining elements
From the final fights
Frought with frustration.

Getting groovy- grown old
Garnering glittering gold.
Holidaying in Getafé,
Holding onto hands of harlots,
Implying impotence and insolence,
Ignorant in their ilk.
Jovially joking,
Jesting about juvenile jealousies;
"I kissed Katie Kurtis"
Knowingly comments one kid.

Left to love and lose,
Like Caesar and his laurels,
Making music and malice,
Manifesting manic malpractices.
Natalie narrates,
"Not now, not ever".
Obvious obstacles avoided,
Objectifying objects that are obsolete.
Praying, pondering over pros,
False prophets photographed as they pose.

Qualifying quangos,
Quantitative quelling of queries,
Raising riots and runctions,
Realising regal and royal remedies,
Celebrating summer solstice,
Solitude is bliss.
Try tampering telephones
To transcribe threat of treason,
Unreal unilateral promises
Unwound by underlying urchins.
Vowing to voice very real values,
Vox pop video views.
Wearing water coloured wellingtons,
Wondering over wax cuneiform works.

Xylophone playing exemplary,
Xavier exists in the imaginary.
Yearly yearning for you,
You're yoked as Gonne with Yeats
(unequally)
Zeroing in on Ritz and Rubble,
Rubble the Zealots want to reign.
I wrote this as an exercise in rhyming and vocabulary use. It was fun
Whereafter dost thou reasoning come from?
Fornever now, it seems
Thou refuseth to cease misinterpretainting
Creating inconsistencies
Contaminatrix of the truth
Unrelating just enough of the tale
To disemvowel and fractionalize reality
Circumstating confusion with the twisting of words
So as to use the truth as a weapon of dysfunction
Funding the wages of thine own endeavastaions
With the tears and sufferustrations of innocents
Transmortifying truths into lies
Not so simple decapitalizations
Of actualities transpawned into vague factsimilarities
Swaying favor to thy manipulatory malpractices
If only for a spell in thy momentioning selfascism
Never quite learning thy lessoning
But so violently hypocritiquing those bestowing the same unto thee
In the idiodicies of constantly evapartaking in the twisting of words
Thou hast fashioned thyself into thy greatest falsity
And that is the complete truth thou shalt never fully receive
I have been turning this idea over for a spell now. I may not have done it quite so as some authors of past have before, but I felt that the creating and twisting of words in this instance brings more understanding to the madness and selfish motivation some people feel when twisting the truth into a half truth, which ultimately evolves the truth into lies, so as to use it to sway favor or assist in their personal gain in whatever way they are doing so. It is one thing that I still see being done to myself and so many others by people who do not realize that by enlisting the use of half truths, they have become nothing but a lie themselves, which eventually they alone will continue to believe, and most will not even entertain the idea of this when confronted with it unless doing so with more lies, unless it is done to them as they do to others. That is usually the only time they insist that it is quite a wrong and dishonorable thing to do to someone, which fully demonstrates the definitions of both hypocrisy and self deception, in my opinion. I have used the twisting and creating of words in a positive way to support and emphasize what I see as the whole truth, instead of in a negative way merely to create a half truthful lie as so many seem to do. Hopefully I have succeeded.
😭👿

SOLD TO SATAN

(After seeing malpractices in medicine, sitting at a multi clinic, I am writing this, with a plea to all the medical practitioners, to please introspect)

Sold my soul I have to the Satan, once I had, a huge entrance amount given, to a doctor become

Now, for treatment, all the rich, the gullible, those frightened hypochondriacs, I warmly welcome.

For rich I have to become, after recovering my expenses huge, to cover up what I spent; that enormous sum !

With wrong, fancy or even frightful diagnosis, I frighten patients; and unnecessarily even operate upon some.

With my malpractices,  Satan very helpful n cooperative is, n encourages me, to richer by the day become.

Alas, a dedicated professional, one who should be respected next to God, how very commercial has now become !

By misleading the ill n those in dire need of a cure; from a God loving n serving the ill n poor people, I have today, a devil become.

Dear God, will You please forgive me, if I change to a good, kind doctor n a human being become?

Armin Dutia Motashaw
Home is where the dead live
Home is where parts of ourselves are predesposed to be robotic.
So intune as our hearts are
Finding ourselves entombed
Getting acquainted with our faults
Though no one perfect in all actuality
Maybe finding solice in our good will practices
The effect of our malpractices
Intending to patiently ration impatiently painless
Before we face the maintenance
Àŧùl  Oct 2024
I Miss Myself
Àŧùl Oct 2024
They know that I have special needs.
Due to the May 7, 2010 accident,
Several internal injuries—none bleeds.
For it wasn't a regular event.
Still they ask me to get married.
The accident wasn't normal.
I almost died in it. Almost.

What I got was an incomplete life,
Incomplete because I lost love,
The lover went rogue,
Because she thought I'd die.
She might have been wrong,
But I'm not really alive either.
I'm just an apparition. Really.

I wrote 7 Seconds,
Inspired metaphorically by life,
My own life in Bhaarat,
Your life in the world,
The threat of terrorism,
And the looming oil crisis.
I was not satisfied. Yes.

I wrote The 'Angel?' Saga,
Inspired by my romances,
My metaphysical chances,
The super-romantic dances,
How I lost my love,
How the bird has flown,
I was immensely satisfied. Yes.

Poetry is how I release,
Poetry is how I tease,
Poetry is how I reform,
Poetry is how I transform,
How I live my life,
How I escape death,
I feel safe in these verses. Really.

I wrote the 'Aaryavarta' trilogy,
Inspired by Darwin's evolution theory,
By all the flaws in it, actually,
Peas can't dictate human origins,
We evolved from aliens, possibly,
Human ancestors from a different planet,
More than a hundred thousand years ago!

I wrote 'Swansong: A Tribute?' too.
It envisions a near-future war,
A war between Bhaarat and China,
America will support Bhaarat against China,
That's the ABC of our world's future,
Recalling is hard for me but not writing something new,
The world will punish China too.

For their COVID crimes,
For their SARS crimes,
For their transgression crimes,
For Taiwan and Tibet,
For trade malpractices,
And the crimes against humanity,
Both in Xinjiang and in Tibet.

I do miss being able to play the guitar nicely,
Baby, I miss running fast, sprinting actually,
But my new abilities are not bad either,
I can now earn, and not just money,
But I have earned you too, oh reader,
This is not a Mozart symphony,
Still I'm like a charmer.
My HP Poem #2010
©Atul Kaushal

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