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Geof Spavins Apr 13
Rose, oh Rose, the queen of class,  
She’s dressed in silk, selling wine and grass.  
“Organic kale, it’s simply divine!”  
She twirls her trolley, a shopping shrine.  

Sain strolls by, with a cheeky grin,  
“Rose, dear, not everyone’s posh within!  
My aisles have deals that make hearts sing,
From the Basics line to the finest bling!”  

Tes rushes in with a clatter and cheer,  
“Stop squabbling, mates, I’m here for the steer!  
Clubcard's flashing like disco lights,  
I serve the masses with snacks for their nights!”  

Rose scoffs, “Tes, you’re much too loud.  
Your aisle décor? A tad less proud.”  
Sain adds, “And what’s with the bargain craze?  
Do shoppers dance through your maze?”  

Tes winks, “They sure do! I’m fun and bold,  
My shelves are stacked, my produce gold!  
Rose is posh, and Sain’s okay,  
But Tes  rocks - it’s hip all day!”  

And so they bicker, a trio delight,  
Rose rolls her eyes, Sain laughs outright.  
Tes bustles on with his Clubcard dream,  
While shoppers weave through their retail scheme.  

They’re rivals, it’s true, but in their zest,  
Rose, Sain, and Tes are retail’s best.  
For amidst the banter, one thing is clear—  
Every shop has a place we hold dear.
In the bustling heart of Marketstead—a vibrant town where every corner pulsed with the rhythm of daily commerce—three remarkable figures emerged as the keepers of distinct retail realms.

Rose, the epitome of refined elegance, curated a stall that was nothing short of a boutique of dreams. Draped in silks and surrounded by the finest organic indulgences, she was a connoisseur of quality. Each day, as morning light spilled over polished displays, Rose unfurled a banner proclaiming, “Taste the heritage of artisan excellence,” a promise that whispered of meticulous care and timeless craft.

Sain strolled in with a balanced blend of charm and practicality. His stall was a celebration of value and variety, where every offering was more than just an item—it was a carefully negotiated deal between quality and affordability. With a mischievous grin, he would remark, “Here, every bargain sings a song of smart choices!” His space was a bridge between tradition and modern sensibility, echoing with laughter and the shared joy of everyday wins.

Tes burst onto the scene as the spirited modern maestro, electrifying the streets with a dazzling display of digital flair and vibrant energy. His stall, lit by the playful glow of Clubcard miracles and modern promotions, became the talk of the town. Bold and unrestrained, Tes declared, “Innovation and access are the rhythm of our times!” His approach was a testament to the dynamism of the new age—where every shelf and every deal was imbued with a pulse of excitement.

One radiant morning, an unusual challenge arose. Whispers of an emerging marketplace—a mysterious rival promising both extravagance and economy—stirred the air. With the shoppers’ curiosity piqued, the three titans found themselves in a moment of rare convergence. Their usual banter, filled with teasing jests and competitive spark, gave way to a deeper resolve. Amidst murmurs of shared admiration for each other’s craft, they set aside their rivalries for a singular purpose: to remind the community of the irreplaceable magic that diversity brings.

That day, Marketstead transformed. Rose’s gentle sophistication paired with Sain’s pragmatic charm and Tes’s sparkling audacity to create a festival of choice. The stalls became stages where culinary wonders, unbeatable deals, and digital innovations danced in harmony. Shoppers wandered through a living tapestry where quality met value, and tradition embraced modernity. In this grand celebration, the differences that once divided them fused into a powerful mosaic—a tribute to the idea that every shop, every style of service, held a cherished place in the hearts of its patrons.
Trevon Haywood May 2016
First we'll use Spahn
then we'll use Sain
Then an off day
followed by rain
Back will come Spahn
followed by Sain
And followed
we hope
by two days of rain.

Gerald V. Hern. 5/8/2016.
AUGUST Oct 2018
digdi sa eskwelahan igwa nin mga pakawat
sa kada estudyante, gabos naghuhurulat
kun sain sinda pwede makaintra
para mailuwas an saindang talento asin makakaya

ano man an gibuon gabos patarabang-tabang
nagkikiwa lang, sin pensar an kapagalan
ano man an  gibuon gabos may pagkasararo
maski pa an lakawon grabe kaharayo, dai nin suko

kun paghihilingon garo man an sa tunay na buhay
kun iisipon maski pagal bawal an magpahuway
laban lang asin dai magpadaog
patunayan kun nano kita kakusog

an kawat garo an buhay sa kinab-an
kaipuhan kusogan an  boot asin dai panluyahan
girumdumon an kada hiwag laogan nin pagkamoot
magtubod tanganing an satong pangaturogan maabot

sa pagtarabangan, igwa pa da sin dai kaya?
ayaw kahadit kay uya kami, siya, ikaw asin ako,
uya KITA!
sarong boot, sarong misyon, sararo kirita
an gabos sa kinaban kakayanon ta.
raquezha Jun 2018
Minsan mayo naman rason para magpadagos,
Iyo ito an perpektong rason para maghali.
An pagpili kan bago na agihan,
iyo lang an kaipuhan para kita magtalubo.

Kun ika nasasakitan sa saimong buhay,
asin namamati mo an kagabatan kan mga desisyon:
Lakaw pasiring sa too kun sain mayong totoo,
asin sa wala kun sain gabos winalat na.

Tandaan mo na maski magsain ka,
o kun sain man na bulod an gusto mo na sakaton.
Kun maabot mo an gusto mo, o makuha an gabos na pinagarap mo.
Mayo yan kun dae mo maapresyar an inagihan mo.

- Kaniguan ni Carina (hali saiyang tula Journey to happiness)
- Pig translate pasiring bikol ni Jan Celada
Keone L Friesen  Dec 2013
MAD.
Keone L Friesen Dec 2013
Oh young barret of the night. Who steals from the dreams of lost sain children like Moloch. The decrypted white house was nothing but A sanctuary for degenerates. the man… MAD… MAD was the man MAD, was the house, MAD were the claimers, MAD were the slaves to the slick but king of so called glam MAD was the man MAD MAD MAD.
           The barret was entering the house, leaving behind all. what has become of my young love asks me? he enters. MAD was he who entered the trap, MAD was he who allowed, MAD was who gave no warning of the moloch sacrifice being made to the two of his so called servants. MAD was all i say MAD MAD MAD, MAD was he who wanted to be hailed like Fernand, MAD was he who wanted to be king like Henry the 8th, MAD was he who wanted to use like Baron Neuvillette, MAD was he who wanted doll oh doll how can you do this.
          Oh ADONAL for if you do exist why have you allowed this, oh ADONAL for if you exist why have you for seen this, oh ADONAl for if you exist why have you told of my eternity. Oh ADONAL why? are you mad? for the people shall not say oh ADONAL well this blow over as fast as Holly or as fast of yourself.
        he who does as told, he who does what he thinks right for his so called gift. MAD for the betrayal of trust between the packed, MAD was he for the lack of word, Like a mute oh ADONAL like a mute he was! MAD was he who acted like Bromdens father, MAD .
      MAD MAD MAD MAD MAD is I for the envolvment of my cellar of time, MAD is I for what i have started and what have become of my creations, MAD is I for all, MAD is I for you, for she, for he, for *****, all mad, MAD is I for maybe i is mad.
                                                            ­                      written by Keone L Friesian. copyright to Keone Friesian
C X Rutledge Dec 2014
Here I am, drunk again.
So long friend.
I can't recall how many times I tried to reach you. Or how many time my student became the teacher, but I'm drunk again.
Remember all those bottles left unshared.
Got my brain in a snare.
Remember how I tried to care? But I'm drunk again.
Tip the top til it topples over, this stables staggering, are we sure it's sober?
No, no, November was waiting but we're still just debating. Am I drunk again?
Killed you with water, drownd you with tomorrow's sorrow.
But we're you listening?
This fires raging but still contained. I promised I'd stay sain, if only to show you.
If only to hold you.
If only I was sober.
If only you would stop smoking those sick clovers.
But I'm drunk again.
So long friend.
Drunk :p
raquezha  Jan 2018
Kaniguan
raquezha Jan 2018
Sa minasunod na aldaw
hanggang sa huring aldaw kan taon
Asahan nindong yaon an Kaniguan
para damayan kamo.

Maguran man, bumagyo, igwang problema sa ido,
naloko ka kan sarong tao o binayaan ka man kan ka-ilusyon mo.

Magrani lang sako—Maimbong na kugos an mareresibe mo.
Magrani lang sako—Madangog sa kun ano man pinagaagihan mo.
Magrani lang sako alagad dae ko ika babasolon,
pagulayan ta kun tano, sain o ano an nangyari.

Yaon ako kun gusto **** barkada,
tugang, ama o ina na madamay saimo,
bako lang ninong ta baka dae ako makaiba.
Papakolon taka kun dae mo nahihiling an sala mo,
pero papaogmahon taka maski dae mo nahihiling an sala mo.
Sabay tang pagulayan gabos na tama mo,
pati si crush na grabe an tama saimo
Magiging maogma ako sa gabos na tamang desisyon mo,
maski sala an paglakaw mo magiging maogma man
giraray ako, ta aram ko makakanuod ka.
Mataong direksyon na pwede **** sundon
kun nawawaran ka na nin pag-asa.

Aram ko Bikolano ka, an Bikolan Oragon,
matagas an ano, an puso saka an buot
dae basta basta minasuko sa laban.

Hanggang yaon kamo o maski mayo na kamo
Dae kamo basta basta mawawara sa puso ko.

Salamat sa pinagagihan ta kang nakaaging taon
alagad salamat man giraray para sa magigin
iribahan, surubahan, kulitan, urulnakan, ngirisihan
istoryahan ta ngunyan na taon. Padagos an Pagkamoot!
There pass the careless people
That call their souls their own:
Here by the road I loiter,
How idle and alone.

Ah, past the plunge of plummet,
In seas I cannot sound,
My heart and soul and senses,
World without end, are drowned.

His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.

There flowers no balm to sain him
From east of earth to west
That's lost for everlasting
The heart out of his breast.

Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
Kaity Morris  Nov 2012
Abandoned.
Kaity Morris Nov 2012
Abandoned.
The word to describe how I'm feeling,
like maybe taking your attention would be  stealing.
my tears pouring down that pre-made lane,
the only way to cope with the pain,
i dont know how else to stay sain.

I don't get it, i used to be your main
</3

By: Kaity Morris
September 7, 2012
Shyamal Bodosa Oct 2020
Masi Majangsisi Sain

Noshogung Ni phrang Noh Yahong ha thaglakha..

Sainbili bo jaru phaikha

Sain bo gama phairu kha,

Noshkao Haa Gajao-Gurmu

Khere-Khere Nojaru phaikha

Dao-Daomi buthu bo Noshkao Haa

Birhi-birhi thaglakha

Khere-khere nokhoha khrip bo haprola phaikha

Oda Horr Jalanglakha...
By Shyamal Bodosa
every time I breath Its like I'm taking a puff,
different day same danm stuff,
got my kush to keep it tuff.
need that push when **** gets ruff,
In my vein I crave her name takes my sorrow takes my shame,
Miss my girl ms.Mary Jane got me ******* on her chain.
Kinda holdin barley sain How I do it through this rain,
used to kikit all day long all thass  left this gay *** song.

Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected

— The End —