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Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])



In response to the United States versus European Union  deliberations on Ukrainian- Russian stalemate  that were concluded on 25th may  2014 at Brussels , in which President Barrack Obama looked at the Putin’s political  behaviour in global set up of the postmodern era as a weakness, I beg to take my position within my capacity as global citizen, to go contrary to this stand of Barrack Obama by positing that President Vladimir Putin is a fact of global urgency , but instead it is Obama who suffers from universal class intellectual deficiency often  observed as insensitive rhetoric but branded as unmatched eloquence.
Firstly, let me give the sequential enumerations of facts which validate my position and hence this discourse. Barely the facts are; Ethnicity, Islam, terrorism, Guantanamo prison, Sino-African relations,Arab-springs,politics and human psychology and American political culture as state and an international citizen.
President Obama has always refused and rejected his ethnic connexion with Africa, he always refer to Africa as the land of ancestors. This is a stand that has most irritated Africans. Both in Africa and in the diaspora. Obama never learned a simple pre-industrial wisdom that every man needs ethnic identity for positive reasons. Because as per now Obama still stands as a Kenyan and as well as an American. This connotes a political fact that he is neither a complete Kenyan nor an absolute American in terms of political emotionalism. The empirical position of all these abode in the fact that there are a thousand and one Americans who feel politically belittled to be led by a first generation African American. Thus, a leadership fact has to be indentified in this juncture by inferring that, their voter consciousness as Americans is not fit to be crystallized as emotional resource to be enjoyed by Obama politics. In a sharp contrast Vladimir Putin has acquired substantial political strengths from positive recognition of Russian ethnicity. Putin recognizes Estonia, Crimea, Georgia, Serbia, Moldova and all small and poor lands around Russia in terms of ethnic connection to Russia. He calls these lands as the dear burial grounds in which Russian military heroes were buried. In a comparison, America has a lot of racial connection with Africa, but president Obama has earnestly worn blinkers on this. He only looks at Africa skeptically as a land of injured civilization in which terrorists abode. He has been wrong. African folk wisdom has a lesson that, you may not need your tribe in peace, only to need it in war.
Why did president Obama masquerade as a Muslim when he was vying for his first term? Moslems feel that he duped them only to turn around and **** their leaders. In Islam it is a heinous sin to pose as a Muslim when you are not one. President Obama mobilized the plotting which had to occasion the killings of Muammar Gadaffi and Osama Bin Laden. These two incidents fuelled high strength in anti-American feelings among the societies of the Arab world. Reasons are that both Gadaffi and Bin Laden deserved fair trial the same way Henry Kissinger was not tried when he perpetrated macabarous mass killing in Vietnamcong war. Muslim community least expected financial and ideological funding of the political hullabaloo known as the Arab Spring, through which heroic Moslem leaders were killed, to come from Obama government. But the contrary was surprisingly a fact. The meaning of this is that , in this tussle of show of mental mighty between Putin and Obama, All African and Arab states are behind Putin, China is behind Putin. Maybe it is Tanzanian and Ghanaian presidents who are in Obama camp, but not the Moslems in Tanzanians and Intellectuals in Ghana. The perceived rationale for this positioning inter alias is that the Number of North African Moslems in Guantanamo prison is the highest of all the detained terrorist suspects.
China is all over Africa today; African schools are teaching Chinese languages with passion more than they do with English language. The University of Nairobi in Kenya, has established the most prestigious Kungu Fu tze institute. Students in this institute are more self-confident and hopeful than those in schools of English and literature. China has designed a special business city for Africans, known as the chocolate city. Africans are more dignified in this city than their counterparts in Chicago.Negroes in Chicago of today still taste a vestigial pepper of negative racism on daily basis. All these conditions have graduated into appalling status from George Bush high school to Barrack Obama state University. These at times confirm the Russian Joke that Barrack Obama is an avatar of George Bush without a Nobel Prize. A political condition not evident during the Reagan and Clinton administration. Obama did not benchmark the shrewd equation of Vladimir Putin; good politics is equal to putting people at center stage.
Psychology of politics has a theory that being eloquent is not a connotation of political effectiveness. It may be sheer rhetoric. This is not a necessary variable for effective policy formulation and implementation. History of politics also has a testimony in confirmation of the same. The French society goofed when it fell victim of Napoleon eloquence, same to the Germans when they became emotional captives of Adolf ****** due to the razor sharp garrulousness of Adolf ******, which he adopted when selling **** values to German voters. In Africa Tanzania is the poorest country without hope of initiating any development this century. And all this is a preposterous protégé of utopian communalism planted through eloquent tools of prosaic socialism wielded by the articulate Julius Nyerere. The American society has also gone into annals of history to have collectively failed in its political choices as a national society by succumbing to rhetorical but policy insensitive conference management knack of the one Barrack Obama. These have happened in a capitalist conduit in which capitalism is killed by its success, just the same way which ignorance is never murdered but at most commits suicide.


Alexander K Opicho, is a social researcher at Sanctuary Research agencies ltd., in Eldoret, Kenya.  He is also a lecturer for Governance Research Methods.
Our mouth customs has gone beyond our control,
Every time we talk about Turkana nation,
We always goof to label it a den of poverty,
By failing to see the vice of human backlogs,
That has worked most to stultify human hopes
Down to a false pale that Turkana nation is all poverty.

A nation that arms its daughters and sons in entirety
With the vogue models of AK 47 and 74’S
Enjoying money worthiness to a whopping!
Media with which they brutally rustle neighbours’ cows
Leaving them in forlorn cry like lame childlings
Such nation can’t be labeled a poverty reference.

Nation in which a naked elder in a loincloths is matchlessly animal rich
Owning hundreds of Carmel and goats, sheep and cows in similar fold,
Enjoying pure *** in marriage with virgins, whose breast are sharply pointed,
Marrying them in pairs out of polygamous morality in the chriso-paganity,
Where each man is a king and each woman an akuju; Turkana goddess of beauty,
All youth confident of animal wealth, then it is total sphinx of no secrete
To label Turkana nation a land that is all about poverty.

Land of sand tunes fit for use in modern architecture,
Replete with deadly desert scorpions, watchdog against women stealer,
Diamonds and gold form its hills of Lapur and Pelekechi,
Its underground waters huge than masses of Indian Ocean,
Lake Turkana being deeper that Lake Tanganyika, full of Fish like helluva,
In the sunshine that generates solar power in fathomless units
Desert snakes jumping here and there in chase of Locusts,
On the seashores at Todanyang and Loewarang towns,
Antelopes there are foolish that they don’t fear dogs
While chicken are condemned to be wild birds
For the Turkana don’t eat birds lest they degrade in dignity
Foolishly calling such land to be example of poverty
Is like putting your economics education in higgledy-piggledy pose.

A turkana woman is a beautiful woman, indeed a paragon of femininity
Slender and narrow at the waist with a humongous bossom,
Her legs are sizeable and long, forming a curve between her thighs,
Her neck stands straight on her thorax, forming a shape of flag post,
Warm on touch and sensuous on each kiss, with her eyes full of compassion,
Her arms strong on each assignement, hence her gun management power,
She screams on an ****** like the swine in a slaughter house,
Sending up the chills of gusto up the spine of the *** partner,
When in the apical realm of love at scenic Eliye Spring,
How can a nation full of such wonderfully virtuous daughters
Be declared in foolishness benchmark of poverty and human despair?

Walk tall Turkana, stand and walk tall, for you are the ****** of Africa
Your oil wells are gift of providence; it will put green foods on your table,
Walk to school and learn anything, learn the languages of the world,
Through which you will caution the lazy talkers of this country,
For them have labeled you as black sheep of the Kenyan family
When it’s their folly and vicious governance
That has betrayed Turkana towards its destiny.
palladia Dec 2013
i cannot face a day without acknowledging a loss.
i cannot fathom such a wilderness grew so close to my place,
my society-free, impositionless place
a tepid forest inhabited
by the requiems of the agnostically murdered
and the cogged wheels of the deceased's clocks.
sometimes they stick and the clockmaster unsticks them,
but they stop up again ever so quickly.
there is nobody who has the time or effort to continually watch the clocks.
and they return to ticking an eldritch song
which may cause pain.
it has not abolished mine, nor shall forth be disseminated to do so.
i am an ascetic mastermind, abiding in my messy pool
of thought, without my womb, without my brood, without my broom
to tidy the mishmash of unruly cobwebs and such.
the fumes cause me to wonder “where is my world,
which i’ve fondled so dearly?”
i detox and recycle memories, it’s to no worth of you
a venomous whisper on a silver lining of a dream tells you everything:
a fanatic’s agenda degrading urbane,
a plummeting depth to deep impact,
i drift away on a molten lava lilypad, and fantasize that...
i am god
but i haven’t found time to juggle your sect
reissuing lessons to mind the sheriff
and i cannot bear to lead me, to my own cultural death.
i cannot receive your moral disease, a signal on my knees
con e preghiere sbiancante. can’t you understand it?
my life is spent with hope placed
on each pair of snake eyes i roll
chance is the meter for everything.
dare i dare go back to my fantasizing,
i am god
ashamed by the lack of hope, and regret
disgraced by the hate and intolerance of man
and i see now their perfect world, is everything i detest.
and the tears produced
form new embryos of emotions
crystalline structures of psychological proportions
which develop into mature,
sentient, and emotion-proof organisms.
which become i.
and i respond vehemently yet come to my senses in a diplomatic tone,
because i am a diplomat.
and i have learned to nail my destiny to an altar each night,
an altar which can sacrifice my pensive motives
and my self-incriminating philosophy
that i should be able to write my destiny, and not
have it planned and read aloud,
read out loud, out in the air, outside.
i try myself.
i tempt myself.
and i return to supplicated suffering about my own mortality
and the atoms i will never see
and the universe i will never span
and the people i will never meet
and the times i will never live.
what if i rivered thirty silver-coins:
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌◌
what if i
didn’t
?
i might be ****** for this: but i’ll still set fire to the catacombs.
i might be scourged for this: but i’ll still hold on,
hoping there’s skin on my bones.
ecclesia, – a common, a sanctuary, a vanguard from the darkness in the world.
i know what i should do but never ever get it done;
i know what i have been and what i will become.
not defined by a dimension nor reputed by a benchmark
but shaded by the passion and dissuaded by the lashes.
i’ll do anything you want me to,
if you **** the self-inflicted psalms i plead!
the ulcer grows
that sweet cologne
i ***** it into the unknown.
i won’t tax your soul, i won’t stick a price to it:
coins ◌◌◌◌◌ won’t fill the hole -in a business deal (assets corrode)
i won’t tax your soul (i won’t buy it with blood money ◌◌◌◌◌, no)
it’s yours alone (but in business deals,
deficit is prone)
and there’s an aspect {a static} of forever and the inescapable gap
between the conscious
and the desired.
i sit here, ever so comfy and lustrous,
and habitually wait the day
they merge.
my invitations stand clear.
if you cannot come, i’ll wait for you. hidden
in the grillework of my past. but if you cannot come,
i’ll be waiting. hidden in the warmth of our teepee haus,
i’ll wait for you.

if X Marx the spot then why Kant i Locke it up?
*could living hand-to-mouth so long make me so Jung?
There’s a complex relationship with the earth, Pleroma, God, and mortality. And none of it can be solved. We live in such a saddened state today.
Big Virge Sep 2016
"Order, Order !
We will have ORDER !!!
Order in the court !
or, the doors to this court
will be closed to cohorts !"

" Order "... is the call
within... our courts of law

Well here's...
Big Virges'... view...
of how these laws
will... Surely... be used...
and what... these laws...
will finally... Do... !!!

You see...

" Order's "...
being... " Summoned "...
in the... " Lords "...
and in... " The Commons "...

and... " The Cure "... to...
Current Problems ...
is seen as ... " Martial Law "... !!!

Police will now ... ENFORCE ...
without ... " Probable "... cause ... !!!

" Stops "... and ...
" Searches "...

upPED on ... Corners ...

What's their purpose ... ?
... " Public Order "...

But .....
Cameras on streets ... ?

CCTV ...... !?!

Isn't that meant to ...
" Keep The Peace "... ?!?

" OKAY, they're there
to make movies !
So, what's the deal ?
Can you paint the scene ? "

"Sir, move along please
your act's been seen,
our decision, you'll receive,
once you've been screened,
at the end of the week,
with your, Charge Sheet !
When it comes, answer truthfully,
because any deceit, may well
result in penalties, with no release,
especially if, we have to cheat
by using, yes, our editing team !"

You see ...
That's the ... " Trick "... !!!

So ... take these words ... " IN "...
and ... Read them ... CLOSELY ...
cos' these words ... Run DEEP ... !!!

Our lives ... BELIEVE ME ... !!!
are now on ... " Floppys' " ...
... Micro-Chips ...

and Drives named ... (C:)

So ...
What is humanity's ... destiny ... ???

Technology ....
Patrolling ... our streets ...

Armies ... of police ... !!!

Freedoms. .................................................... obsolete .... !!!!
for those ... wanting ... Peace ...

Sounds like a movie ...
I've seen of ... Armies' ... ???

" OH NO ... it's T3 !!! "

" ORDER is "... The Key ...

Restriction of ... Rights ...
to simply be ... FREE ... ?!?

NOT TO TAKE ...
Violence ... from our streets ... !!!!!

I'm YES ... A Supporter
of ... " Public Order "...

Let partying tribes ...
INDULGE in ... " Good Vibes "...

But .....
What kind of party ... ?
sees people ... Pull Knives ... !?!
or call for ... " Gunfights "... ?!?!?!?

But let's ...
NOT TELL ... " Lies "... !!!

Crime is ... on the rISE ... !!!

Crimes of ... ALL TYPES ... !!!
from ... Corporate Crimes ...
to young ... " Homicides "... !!!!

But .....
Ask yourself ... " WHY "... ?

Is it because ... ?
The young are now ..................................... Lost ....... ?!?

or ....
Could it be ... THIS ... ???

Highlighting ... Young Fights ...
as if .... EVERY NIGHT ...
Another kid ... DIES ... !!!

May simply ... "FIT IN"...
with Agendas ... Contrived ...
to simply ... Keep Minds ...
AFRAID ... and ... " DENIED "...
of living ... their lives ...
just like the ... " Rich Guys "...

" Directors "... who Earn ... ?
from ... " Fraudulent "... work ...

How many of them ?
will face ... " Stop and Search "... ?!?

Those in ... Governments ...
and ... " Corporate "... Hybrids ...
whose parties are ... "PRIVATE"... !!!!

with much ... " Nicer Climates "...

ENJOYING ... themselves... !!!
because of ... " Their Wealth "...
with women who ... " Sell "...
Their bodies like ... " SHELL "... !!!!
have done with ... " Oil Wells "... !!!!!

" Take Time ".....................................
Think it ... through..................................

But ....
Here's some more clues ....
as to why ... I Now Choose ...
to ... " Today "... take this view ...

Youth have died ... " Early "...
For YEARS ... on streets ...

But back then ... WEREN'T Worthy... ?!?
of ... PRIMETIME TV ...

But Now ... THEY ARE ... !?!

Terrorists .... are at Large ... !!!
is now the ... BENCHMARK ...

That's what's being ... " Used "...
to fill .... TV News ....

and ... " Sadly "... ABUSE ...
our LOST ..... WaYwArd ... youth ... !!!

Will .... " Eton "...
and ... " Harrow "...
REALLY SEE ... " Stop and Search "... ?!?!?

It seems ...
kind of ... " shallow :"...
to think ... They'll ... " Concur "...

Do ... " The Rich ...
have a ... THIRST ... ?
to walk with ... What HURTS ... !?!

Guns and Knives .....
amongst the ... " Rich Types "... ???

Why would they ... do that ... !?!
in ... " Daddy's New Pad "... !!!!!!

I guess what i'm saying ...
is ... " Stop and Search "... BLATANT ... !!!!!

is MOSTLY ... for blacks ... !!!!!!

"Well, blacks do the killing !
Which is shown now, to millions !
Everyday, all over the place !
So, answer that Virge !"

is what ...
" They "... will say ... !!!

Those who feed ... LIES ...
into minds and ... " Numb Brains "...

Those who ... DON'T THINK ...
BEYOND Links ... in the ... " Chain ".... !!!

The ... " New Order "... Preys ...
on ... Ignorant Strays ... !!!...

NOT those ... on streets ... !!!
but those who ... Compete ...
for a piece of ... " Their Cake "...

that has a ... FOUL TASTE ... !!!!!!

"ORDER ORDER !!!
We will have ORDER !!!"

" Must have ORDER ?
Man, just hold your corner ! "

Who exactly are ... " They "... ???
to treat people like ... " Game "... !?!

What makes you think ... ?
that they can train ...
the brain of a ... " Pig "...
to actually ... THINK...
and NOT behave ...
like some ... " Supremacist "... !!!
who's just ... Too **** ... QUICK ...
to suspect a kid ...
because of his ... Colour ... !!! ? !!!

" RACIST Mother F..... !!!!! "

"Order ... ORDER ...
You're out of order !!!"

" OUT OF Order ?!?
Are you a Coc' Snorter ?
I'm not a Big Baller,
or Gangsta' shot caller !
I'm just a straight talker
who's CRISP, just like Walkers',
when airing my views, about
Real Issues, that clearly confuse
and are used to abuse, our right to,
yes, choose, when and with whom,
we choose to make moves !

How would you like ?
to have THAT, done to you ?

My name AIN'T, Jack Horner !
Why should I be cornered ?
Searched and questioned
in the name of nonsense ! "

It's all a pretence,
to turn people against,
those they ... Don't Hate ... !!!

but ... each day ...
have to face,

from ... Council Estates ...
within the ... UK ...
to Projects ... They Blame ...
in the ... United States ...

These issues relate ...
and yes ... Correlate ... !!!

So .....
DON'T MAKE ... Mistakes ... !!!
and ... Mis-Read ... " The Game "...

What's happening ... There ...
is coming ... BEWARE ... !!! ...

Just think of it ... " This Way "...
George ... and ... Tony Blair ...........

They told you ... A WAR ...
was coming ... For SURE ... !!!!!

So ...
What'd you think ... NOW ... ?!?

Has ... THE WAR ...
Reached ... " Your Door "... ?!?

Or ...
Do you feel ... " Clowned "... ?

Or ...
Are you ... like me ... ?

A ... " Public "... ENEMY ... !!!

Who'll face men in ... " Gowns "...
because ... when I speak ...
I do so ... FREELY ... !!!! ...

and ... NO ...
WILL NOT ... Stand down ... !!!

" Order "...
is the call ...
as I said ... Before ... !!!

But ....
What is it ... for ... ???

for the ... " Weak "...
and the ... " Poor "...

NOT TO ... Fight anymore ... ?!?

or simply for ... " Borders "...
to keep them from ... " Hoarders "...
and ... " Midnight Marauders "... !!!!!!!

and TRUE LIFE ... Reporters ...
whose views they want ... "cornered"... !?!

because of ...
Their call ... to ... ENFORCE ...

.... " Public Order ".....

Listen Here :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/public-order
My vision from some 8 years ago, of where we were headed, and sadly, much that I thought, has and sadly, continues to come to pass ..... These words are not those suitable for weak hearts, or those who like to play the well .... Y'all
know.

Listen Here : https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/public-order
As a stone falconer, I look for honey where many detest,
I sombrely harvest stones for my food as others bask in orchards
I now salute Adolf ******, not for his adulthood life,
I bow unto him for his youthful love of his fatherland,
In his life of youthful days, dreaming and dreaming
In his struggles of meine Kempf, to wash Germany clean,
And plant social democracy free from the stench of Jews,
His love-hate of Karl Marx redolent of missing link,
In all the humanity where education is made a luxury
And dearest reserve of the rich, the few and powers that be,
Your excellent mental growth defied formality of the times,
You surpassed the schooled and the institutionalized of the time,
Phenomenally accumulating haphazard knowledge and prowess
Of the garrulous leader as beckoned the fashion of politics by then,
Only the best outfit to beguile politics of Europe in the then time,
In your humanity there is both glorious failure and doomsday success
Whence your life failures are fountains of intellectual glory,
You yearned to wash the Jews off a reeking perfume
To offload your fatherland off the burden of exotic poverty,
A normal dream for a normal son, in whatsoever the world,
****** the son of Europe you made your father proud,
No inch of land on earth messes to play with Europe,
Your respect for African military muscle sent a right Signal,
Down in the land of the Negroes to fight for freedom
From the rotten yoke of colonialism that had putrefied
The necks and shoulders of African nationalism,
Hail you ****** in realm of the living dead
History of we the living is a protégé of your soul,
Carry your neck high above all the dead for your role,
Germany is now great and highly spirited above cosmetics,
You were born insignificant but you died significantly,
Eva Braun the lady of your head falling in your arm,
A true man you measured as you died on the nuptial night,
You gave the mantra of historical permanency
On which Europe’s future is embedded in your song
Of need for the breathing space for sons of the Aryan nation,
I admire your spirit towards preservation of your fatherland,
There are million of those that hate you in the day under the light,
But they slavishly worship you in the night with their dim lit candles
Their faces deeply buried in the Meine Kempf, no effort can fickle ‘em
In their voracity for the oeuvre of your soul, the Fuhrer of Germany,
Blessed be Germany the land of your matrix,
Let it sire and sire several like you, now and future
For the spirit of duty with which you were imbued
The sole natural resources menacingly missing
Among the poor countries of the world
Hence their misery in the captivity of poverty,
You are a lesson, a school, and benchmark
For the brave and the cowards but only the bigots
Can refuse to swallow the superb historicity
You gave to the world of your time and beyond.
You nursed and bred Einstein the child of your arm,
In your early Jostle on the verge of nuclear technology ,
While others in the deep slumber snored in crudeness
Of their culture and colonial bliss, totally impairing the vision,
You amassed national wealth in the hands of the *****,
You thinned corruption from the state machinery of Germany,
You combated communism with mighty of a born fighter,
You fought poverty and condemned syphilis away from Aryan race,
In your pure love of Germany your fatherland, pride of your heart,
Or show me normal a man who yearns to breed a weakling nation
And I will take you from the perforated shadow of Leo Tolstoy
And shed you under the umbra of Shakespeare the bard,
To catechize you truly on pearls of morality
Bound in King Lear, that only the weak
None but the weak  who attract the attack.
Nicole Bataclan Aug 2012
It must be rash
To compare and contrast
What should always be deemed
Unmatched and supreme.

But you raised the bar
Putting me behind bars
A slave to your sound
Captive and spellbound.

All at my behest
Providing me with the best
How can it be topped
Relinquished or stopped.

Now you have set the tone
Your love, a class of its own
Nobody comes close
Foreign or heroes.

Becoming my benchmark
Made it hopeless to embark
On any new adventure
My soul is already captured.

Prevail as my standard
My own version of Harvard
I will wait until you return
My heart will always be enamored.
mark john junor Mar 2013
Broken highways in the night

have allways been the benchmark of my travels

the count of the hordes of empty eyes

climbs as the tally of things iv abandon on the way is forrgotten



Once i a while it will come to me suddenly

of some small thing

some trinklet that

i prized so much

that some crawling thief made away with
J Oct 2016
It's ended like I expected
I lost another
But when it happens
My mind goes back to you

I wonder if current me
Would have lost you like before
Or if it was old me that
Might have won this time around

London is too big
With too much choice
Is that why I lose?
Or was old me better than now?
xubi Feb 2012
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Damaré M Aug 2013
Do you have to get high to feel more fly? 
Soft *** stoner 
I'm more blunt when I'm sober 
Excuse me to the real dudes who use ****
I know how it be 
But if you only smoke because it's trendy 
Right now your life is pending 
Because you not downloaded 
You buffering 
Losing connection 
I can't respect it 
Your life isn't hectic 
You had to use other folks addresses 
Just to get public school lessons 
Never got a suspension 
Detention because you wasn't paying attention 
You wasn't throwing pencils 
Or raising up dresses 
Or erasing the "warm up" messages
Or guessing during benchmark testing 
Word I heard you was a nerd 
And that's cool
But don't have tape in between 'yo glasses then grow up to gain bad habits 
That's backwards 
Thought life was all about progress 
You have a background which is flawless 
But for acceptance 
You start making exceptions 
I do it for the breathless 
And of my God I don't question 
Exclamation 
To all perpetuation 
But hesitation 
I don't condone perpetration 
Why dissemble on some **** that isn't providential?
Everyone who practically had no choice now want a way out 
Little *** kids you didn't even weigh in 
How did you find your way in? 
That's from real men being pliant
For all you cats who trying 
Stop 'yo lying 
When I'm around Amateurs come in silence 
Like what's a scavenger to a lion? 
About time for all of you late bloomers to become compliant
Sharina Saad May 2013
Dear Daughter,
Again you let me down
You didn't meet my expectation
Saw my face in Hall of shame,
Held my head real down
Big disappointment...
Where shall I hide my face?

My Friends topic of the week,
My daughter... your daughter... her daughter
Juicy gossips...
Straight A's, no straight A's
You put me in A total mess
I really felt out of place...

Defense mechanism,
pointing my fingers straight
It was easy to put the blame on you
My ego was big of course,
I denied the fact that...
I set a standard too high...
The benchmark was me
Forced you to compete with perfection
Forgotten the fact that you are you
Never could be me... or anybody else
My achievement, my capabilities were different
and yours were yours alone...
incomparable to me, incomparable to others

Unintentionally, I molded a double
Designed my clone
Created another hall of fame
But I was wrong to play god's role
When he created you,
You were your unique self
a different special individual...

Dear Daughter,
From now on...
I let you be you
Please forgive me for my ignorance,
insensitivity... but trust me
I'd be proud that I am part of you...
and I'd pray to god you'd be successful
your own way.....

With Love,
Mummy...
every parents should be proud of their kids achievement. Not every children is born a genius.
Poetoftheway Nov 2015
~for SPT~
whose poems transform with lovingness

~~

*distinguishing, extinguishing,
the knowledges to retain,
reuse daily, mightily,
pleasures insights beloved,
honored with the stripes of daily use

then there are,
the knowledges to retrain,
non-removable, rising up from your
edges
of the very fine line
tween
pain and experience

they must Main Street remain,
be thankful for that,
for love regained,
needs the benchmark
of having lived love,
the loss of loss when recalled,
when new gets a turn, reinstalled,
is now twice sweeter
8:14 am
Nov. 1, 2015
nyc/nml

~~~
SPTSPT
7 hours ago
Scar
I need something other than food to keep me calm to take my mind off I need something other than drugs to keep me here and free from harm I need something other than people to know I'll be ok I need to know there is a god one at times I'm willing to die for to ask him why for if I fear to be alive why lord can I not die..if live is to remember to what love I had surrendered was only taken to dip my hands in death..why then do you take my breath only to give it back.. Is it to remember as I do to live in shame of fear to nothing but his humbling way... I'll never understand
After Amadioha went into sweet nightmares,
he made us to breath through the chest of the sea. from the celestial bodies of the shrine,
We shone our forefather's smile with a mirage,
a little littered mirage spelling words in ellipsis.
these were the rose crumbs tailored in the sand castle of our glassful laughter, we're the Palmful morning in the eyes of our home in the abyss.

when a child cries, he forgets that the route to
his home is written on his body as a tattoo.
when a girl thinks of gathering firewood in the heart of the forest, she thinks of her thigh &
the bushes surrounding it, nature made it so.
We do not think of our skin as a poetic of agony,
We do not think of our eyes as poetry letters
but we draw lines and currents of imaginations describing how rituals made men insane.

We carried out those prilgrim for the boys,
our forebearers made us cracked our head up,
they carved pumpkins traces for this generation; for this humble journey mixed with fire & water.
Our souls, our dreams were the Shakespearean places you never had the chance to see physical.
they are the rituals of nature, a side Sithoulte,
a wonder land created like a paradise you don't stay often but in your dreams & imageries.

We are birthed here as debris & plump scars,
a tortured lips holding the past & the present.
We are the foundation of everything evil spirits,
We were born in the ritual of a grievous war.
to say a human is a benchmark of his own,
to say a man is a mango dropping without a choice of where and how to touch the sand,
to say a man is everything fretwork of agony;
to say a men are slaughtered memories...
but to this edges of rites & repeated steps,
We'll remain the gospel from every mouth.

Our ancestral hands shall still set a table,
to tell the girlchild how to sit in a public hall
to hand over the shrine to the  boychild
to tell man that he owns a woman as head.
to keep birthing good and ugly children.
our hope will always depict heavens glory
and, our darkest fears as the skin of hell.
And it must be passed down to the next
genes to tell the next & sand keep multiplying.
This is the ritual of mankind to remain alive.


©John Chizoba Vincent
FromAPenRefusingFrustrations.
judy smith Oct 2015
They've dressed first ladies, Academy Award-winning actresses and supermodels.

Now they're designing casual luxury that they believe appeals to women all over the world.

Marie and Kelly Gray, the mother-daughter duo and former head designer and chief executive officer, respectively, behind luxury house St. John, opened a new chapter with the debut of their apparel company Grayse two years ago.

Grayse, a ready-to-wear line retailing from $195 to $1,250, hit racks at select Bloomingdale's — including the Fashion Island location — Saks Fifth Avenues and boutiques in Palm Desert and Canoga Park.

The most recent expansion was introduced this month — a pop-up shop, also at Fashion Island. It will be there through February 2016.

"We're very excited," Kelly said as she sat in the newly designed boutique, next to Traditional Jewelers, near Bloomingdale's. "My mom's taste for luxury is the benchmark for the brand."

That penchant for design came together in 1962, when Marie and her husband, Robert, founded the St. John clothing line, which is headquartered in Irvine.

The couture with a core of signature knits remains the same today with its decorative touches like beads, crystals and buttons that are gilded with 24-karat and hand-sewn during the finishing process.

But after 43 years of designing and crafting the simple yet elegant knit dress, the Grays left St. John in 2005 when the company was purchased by a private equity firm. Eight years later, in 2013, the two women were back in business together with their new Grayse label.

"My mom was playing golf and she hurt her knee, and during that time, she came into my office and had ideas for a new line," Kelly said. "We decided to put a little collection together and started with 15 pieces, and now it's ballooned into this."

The new label of casual, versatile separates and dresses is a modern collection of Italian silk-printed tunics, leather jackets and embellished tops and dresses.

Most of the collection is produced at the company's headquarters in Irvine.

Kelly and Marie, who do the designing for Grayse, said they have an appreciation for working together.

"It's so much easier as adults," Kelly said with a laugh. "It's amazing and it's a privilege. We're both excited about our foray back into retail. I can be more conservative, and mom tends to push the boundaries."

The designers have recognized the difference in style between the Palm Desert and Orange County shopper.

Women in the desert getaway prefer a polished look and tend to dress up more, while the Orange County woman's style is edgy and relaxed and she is always looking for new and contemporary shapes.

Fashions have evolved, Kelly said, noting that after 2008, as the country was reeling from the Great Recession, consumers reevaluated how much they spent on clothing.

"Today, people have an appreciation for a relaxed style and easier price point," she said. "Grayse is more whimsical. It's a brand you're purchasing for Thursday, not weeks in advance. It's buy now, wear now."

Reconstructing the interior of the building housing the pop-up was challenging, Kelly noted, adding that friend Tom Penna, president of ITX Construction, helped get the boutique set up months before the holidays.

On opening night at the Fashion Island pop-up shop, the boutique's newly installed chandelier glistened and mannequins were clad in holiday gowns tailored with shimmery pave embellishments.

"This dress is so comfortable and doesn't wrinkle," Kelly said as she showcased a black and gold pave-encrusted floor-length dress. "It's exciting to make every woman of every shape feel beautiful."

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney
James Rives Sep 2023
what is the benchmark or minimum
for telling someone, "i love you,"?
how many i miss yous
and i wish you were heres are enough,
even minutes after parting?

whatever the number is, **** it.
because my heart remembers to beat
and even attempts to soar with you
to heights new, unfound, unseen.

where the chittering of nearby birds
is both foreign and kind comfort
in our hands;
where oranges and strawberries grow
in tandem, vine over vine, root over root,
and fall into us, sweet and kind and lovely.

if i were to say it too soon, i'm afraid
i'd lose you, your wit, your smile,
dumb jokes and blazing blue eyes.
and by withholding, i risk combustion,
and an end to it all the same.

i love you.
I have never felt a love like this. It's unique and pure but I worry that I'm stupid and easily tricked.
Five nights a week at midnight, he dyes blue.

    Angel, you’re bad news.

    Salvation Army button-downs unbuttoned in a second our hands have introduced kinetic bear hugs, although visually frail and weathered.

    Shoulder length hair and a cuticle away from pure. obsession.

    Of all the heartbeats and hop, skips and jumps; I surrender.

    Adding the lye

    m.

    cm.

    mm.

    Get closer.

    Knock me over in slow motion.

    Tumbling rotary dial “1” click. “2” click, click.

    Rendering the grease

    I’m closing the locker when

    He appears at 11:55 P.M.

    Beat up, an 8 track cassette surviving a barrage of garage sales.

    My dear affection is still a child labor law. Juvenile.

    Staring Aderol Syndrome (S.A.S.).

    Birds nest palms, the delicate benchmark.

    I would give up half of $4.75/hr.

    Warm me up and share $9.50/hr.

    Collecting Grease

    Gunmetal blue, locker “27.”

    I read an article of clothing yesterday, not from these parts.

    At

    Your

    Steel-toe

    Boots.

    Please listen. You know the dialect.

    Coffee brewer, lighter sharer, you are the Aurora Borealis eventful.

    Five nights a week at midnight, I dye blue.
Hal Loyd Denton Feb 2013
Her photograph was electrifying it was clarifying those years those times leap into your mind
As you look at her you are enthralled an era stirs comes into soft and sweet focus from the center to the
Extreme edges she is the standard bearer of her generation who would suppose such power lies
And emanates truth and glory it has to be the collective reality of the forces that were working
Creating her society she truly is the photograph that emerges from the chemical that causes it
To develop swing bands played into her hearing heart radio was the rage so much was in play
And a lot was in its infancy it registered on her youthful face it was the greatest mapping of a
Time that was in flux and not yet settled or matured truly she was a spring that drew out the
Purist water it was cleansing it ran deep with ever expressing hope it was contagious she was
An influence that left you spellbound a commentary was being spun it is best told like people
Were dancing in the street a decree was understood but not openly spoken it would spiral
Upwards and across mans experience and then coast into the wonderful fifties two decades
Marched into annals of the most attributed satisfying glory rest peace expectation was furious
And optimistic free innocent cooperation that made life as if you were sailing calm beautiful
Waters her life told the story every day it was a blend of sweet desire that swayed to a rhythm
All her own and was owned by that period meadows and glades were her habitation shadow
And shafts of sun light rays interplayed with one another front porches held shadowed tones
The swing glided the heart grew mellow I can hear her speaking softly reverence and awe
Spilled Forth to those listening not the degrading real housewives of here or there with hard
And ugly Words and actions that define our time no wonder we are so miserable they are
Supposed to Mark our standards modesty and pure conservation use to provide our cultural
Benchmark Personnel conduct does matter it is vital there is a gutter but somewhere the lines
Were Destroyed and filth parades as cute what prisoners we make of our selves when we scoff
At Morality and the purity it provides when there is no limitations to vulgarity we all lose the
Very Meaning this piece has spoken of the one who this speaks of now is a widower her son is
Her Friend and great help we together are honoring her and others of her time that was bold
Gallant and lived exemplary lives that’s what they gave to us what are we giving to our offspring
Nothing in comparison when we live as we have been living society was once the controlling
Factor it by its purity spoke to those that were unruly and gently and lovingly guided them back
To the right path what will future people feel when they see our picture?
Nikki Ireland Dec 2014
Her name was Nicola.
She adored the sky. 

A natural born traveler.
Who loved being outside.

This was her favourite view.
I was asked what my benchmark would say, this was my first response.
David Moss Dec 2014
I met God the other day.

And this is what I had to say.

But first, let me tell you a little of my thoughts along the way

You see to me the subjective thoughts on freedom

I've had most of my life

Reinstate a calming notion

That there's really no difference between wrong and right

What's wrong to me is right to you

And what's wrong in God's eyes is just another perspective too

And i've told my self that we are all living proof

That the truth of real freedom

Is to simply have a real freedom of truth

Seriously though, either way,

whether freedom is absolute

Or it's a façade of a god made human brain

I say do what feels good and enjoy the now and today.


So what did I do along the way to meeting god you say?

Brace yourself. Cause this is exactly what I told god straight to his face.

God greeted 'Hello my son. How are you feeling today?'

"Hey Lord. I feel ******* great. This life was more than just okay. I mean you know what I did along the way"

"But hear it from my mouth. And the lack of conviction my words carry to this day "

"I listened to loud music and damaged my ears for so many ******* years."

"I filled my lungs with toxic clouds of smoke, stupid **** like dope, contemplated consequences but treated them like jokes"

"I damaged my brain with an array of narcotics."

"Subjected myself to a list of voodoo tonics,  sometimes just pure demonic ****. And I loved every second of it."

"To the point where I altered my already imbalanced chemicals beyond repair. There. I said it. Now it's out there for you to judge. "

"To you I am probably the Antichrist. And ******* It feels nice! "

"I pierced, stretched and wounded my skin, until the shape of my former self was beyond any contemplating."

"Relating it all to an an expedition of self expressions. "

"Erections? I got them everywhere. In the classroom in the office, walking up the ******* stairs "

I mean I even had them in church for ***** sake. Sorry about that. That was weird i guess but it was kinda different. Kinda felt great. "

"I did, and would do again, with total disregard for recommended calorie intake,

"Eat a whole pizza by myself. That right there to most, don't feel like a big mistake. "

"I mean none of this does. Least not to me at the time. I mean what else is there besides the now? "

"And what else then that is more sublime?"

God: 'Well...'

"Hang on. Not finished. So I got ****** up, I ****** up and sometimes I just simply ******. "

"Enough wasn't enough. This kind of lifestyle ain't tough, let me tell you"

"I did at least one stupid thing every day. Sometimes beyond a countable array. "

"I didn't learn from most mistakes i made. "

"I definitely disappointed my parents. Well **** em I say. "

"I didn't get to choose what life I was born into. Did you choose for me God? Well, did you?"

God: 'My Chil...'

"Don't answer that actually. Your words may just further infuriate me "




"I mean I've probably ****** you off more than you have me, right up until my last dying days. I REALLY went out in an unholy blaze of glory. Still an epic story don't you think?  "

God: 'Your stor.....'

"Shut it lord! I told you I ain't done! Cause just like you I knew one day this moment would come."

"And i've had countless years of your sermons shoved down my throat. And DON'T make me utter what else your holy servants made me choke."

God: '......'



And God was completely silent, and the heavens were calm. The sudden changed should have alarmed me. But it didn't. Cause I felt like he knew what I was going to say, every step of the way.


So I cried. And the next words I had to utter in complete dismay, but total clarity and no iota of disarray


"You did this to me. All of it. I hope you understand. You made this world what it is, and who i am."

"And I broke your rules, and the body you gave me. "

"I never once begged for your forgiveness or hoped that you or your son would save me."

"I never once asked for your help, and expected it to come."

"Us humans truly felt abandoned beyond any recognition."

"But this isn't me complaining. In fact, this is me saying cheers."

"Thanks for all those struggling, harsh and ******* cruel years."

"You see I know you "

"And this world you had a hand in "

"The strength you need to live in it is so demanding"

"Beyond any priest, pope and pastor"

"I learnt about you "

"And who I am so much faster"

"Through mistakes and wrong doing"

"Infinite battles ensewing"

"Within my mind and throughout humankind"

"I grew"

"I felt"

"I knew"

"There was a point to it all"

"And even in my continuous fall "


"From your holy grace"

"I understood why you breathed life into the human race"


I was silent. I wanted God to ask why


God: 'My dearest son. Give me your perspective on the meaning of all life'

I was frustrated and I angrily stabbed back like a knife

"My God! The meaning of life was simply just to live! Beyond a simple explanation and perspective, I ain't got nothing more to give!"

God: 'Then don't give me simple, give me complex yet precise. I WANT YOUR TAKE ON THE MEANING OF THIS LIFE!!!'


I stopped in the beckon of his holy colossal voice.


And In his frustration. I found some sense of absolute rejoice.

I waited. contemplated. I felt something inside my soul I had never felt before.


"No" I implored

Then I just smiled and stared.

God shouted 'WHY?!'


"You don't get my answer, in metaphor or otherwise"  

"You don't get the privilege of what it means to be me."


"You see, I understand that you may know everything already, within your created lands"


God raised an eyebrow and ushered with his hand

God: 'Go on my son'

"So asking me this question is redundant to me and the point is really none"

I paused and waited.

God contemplated


God: 'Well....what you say is right. And now the real question remains;


Through your mortal answer what does I, God, gain?'


'Must be something' I exclaimed


God: "Yes it is. And I'll i'll tell you what it's all for.
It's nothing more than another perspective. Call it if you will, an act of me being trying to be self reflective"
'You see in all it's glory, the world i made, follows rules and so must I, be as it may'
'So I can't know what you are going to say next. I never knew where this world was going to head'
'I never knew the human race could be so unkind, that hate would be the benchmark to define your lives'
'And I could sit here and give you a thousand sorries my son, but I had no hand in your life after the initial one'

"I kinda felt it" I muttered. Crying amongst uttered words

And I knew from God what next was going to be heard.

God: 'Freedom created comes with it perks, but also what lurks behind it all
Is the creators knowledge he could watch the beauty of it all disastrously fall'


So, I Met God the other day, And this is what he had to say

But don't let my experience cause alarmed dismay


Don't ask where I am now, or what happens after death

Don't ask me about life's secrets, another's answers are useless


Just know that your perspective, is truly a blessing

Your experience is yours to keep

It's up to you, to mean something

This gift we have been given

Is not for God to take

Unless we choose to do so



Freedom is ours


For simply freedom's sake
I didn't really meet God.

It was probably Zeus or something.

He was very beardy and thundery.
Martin Narrod Aug 2014
We keep on cutting, edges off the blind parts of our hands.
Everyone you don't trust is getting, a little too close, and
Soon you'll be so loud that all of your fears come out.
Each ounce of you, that I packed into sandwich bags
And shoved down my throat, that now while you try
To back out, your bloodied olive-sized organs
Get jammed in my lungs and my ribs. You pretend
That your heart is a bouncy beach ball filled with helium,
But with even the practice you had at lying, I can smell
How new at this you are. Some part of me, childish still
I presume, brushes my fingers through your hair and
Over your ears, then touches this face stuck with splinters
That you've tried to use scissors to combat every thing
Making you feel differently about us now. Now.

Using the contraption from when we started out,
The Jaguar convertible with the top brought down,
Cruising up to San Fran when we thought the sun was out,
But we managed to make it the only Summer where it snowed downtown.
Even with the hummer, you were on my right, looking backwards out
Of your eyes. Glass crystals cut the corners of your mouth, looking back,
I centered my turn-ons by the bruises I bit into your calves.

The number of times I've let you rattle my cage,
******* up my brain. The slave wage you paid,
Main-stage, 'The Rage', for a hand-me-down
Chance to get laid.

****** and God, a forty-hour a week job,
Benchmark No. 1, 'The Saw.'

Tailored into the skins, needle pins and numbness
Attached to the dumbest excuses to run with.
For the ***, the anticipation was sinning enough,
That every once in a while I could afford to be turned off.

The next three days and Maisie,
Your teenage head went crazy,
Every ten minutes you paged me.
The price of admission, I wished,
Would've been the attention I'd give,
A cannibal habit, you kicked. I quit
Bothering you about what your *** size is.

After eight months, of which I said they were probably closer to nine,
Was the beginning of when I could convince you to drive yourself
Into my house. While the closet I could afford ensnared you,
I wore washed up Air Jordan's with skinny black Levi's,
You dyed your hair to gray before going blonde, it went to your hips
But you kept a ponytail or bob.

I'm remembering now, nearly every other day at age twenty-two,
Going to Clark's and ordering hashbrowns with green peppers on Sherman Avenue.
Every resistant bone in my body bothers me, I sit with the transistor between
My first finger and index, tuning the ****, while rehearsing violent seminars
Between you and I that resembled closely The Bay of Pigs. Your fingernails never
Had time to grow long enough to paint. You also never wanted to wear high heels.

This is the first chance without plastic lunch-bags in my throat, that I can chew up my food, without choking on olive pits that have been Getting stuck in my esophagus for the last thirteen years.

Don't hate me.
I know you saw me, you're sawing at me.
But when I see you, I say, "Marry me."
We only have seconds left,
Give me your shallow breaths,
I'll cup my hands and catch the water while you drink from me.
Drink from me, every flavor that you can grip between your teeth.
There are only seconds now, I'm counting 23.
Why won't you love me? Why won't you love me? Why won't you love me?
I choke. I ache. I scream.
Kristine.

3 seconds left.
Mark Toney Apr 2020
.    .    .  Bonjour,
              Banque de
              Bruxelles...

Bonjour,
beautiful
Betty!

               Benjamin
               Baker!

Barry
back?

               Barry's
               back—
               Bye!

Bye,
Betty!

                              Bonjour,
                              Ben!

Barry
Beauchamp—
Brussels'
best
broker!

                              (Barry
                               blushing)
                              Benjamin
                              Baker—
                           ­   Boston's
                              best
                              businessman!

Brokerage
balanced,
­Barry?

                              Been
                      ­        better ...

Been
better?
Bad?!

                              Below
    ­                          benchmark :-(

Bygones
be
Bygones ...

Bullish
bearing,
Barry?

                              Best
                              be
                              b­ullish,
                              Ben!

Better
be
bullish,
Ba­rry!
Brokerage
best
buy?

                              Best
                              buy?
                             ­ Bonds!

Best
buy
bonds?!
"Be
bullish"
Barry?

                              Brigh­thouse
                              baby
                              bonds!
                           ­   

Brighthouse
baby
bonds?

                              BHFAL­—
                              Balanced,
                       ­       beneficial
                              buy.

Baby
bonds
­bad
bet,
Barry.
Best
bullish
buy?

                              ­Bitcoin!

Bitcoin
bites,
Barry!
Bloomberg
broadcasted
Bitcoin's
b­ubble
bursting.
Best
bullish
buy,
BARRY??

                      ­        Bullion
                              bars?
                            ­  British
                              Britannia?

"Be
bullish,"­
Barry!!
BEST
BULLISH
BUY??

                              BlackR­ock,
                              Buffett's
                    ­          Berkshire—
                              Better
       ­                       believe,
                              bot­h
                              bullish
                          ­    buys!

Bingo!
BlackRock,
Berkshire—
Buy
both!
BOOYAH!!

     ­                         Bought!

Better
be
bullish,
Barry!
Bye!
­
                              Bientôt,
                         ­     Ben!


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
4/18/2020 - Poetry form: Alliteration - © 2020 by Mark Toney. This is the 6th poem in my Alliterative Alphabet Series. Each poem describes conversations between two or more people while only using words that start with the first letter of the title of the poem. I’m publishing the poems as I write them on Wattpad.com, not necessarily in alphabetical order. My goal is to write at least 26 poems to cover each letter of the alphabet. I hope you find the concept interesting, maybe even clever. Most of all I hope you enjoy them :) - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Strangerous Mar 2021
The benchmark of tyranny
is censorship:
once the use of force
rises above the mark,
then even the censor
must drown in the flood
of * * *.
© 2001 by Jack Morris
miss keisha Jan 2017
i don't know if i should direct my hatred to you.
for coming so recklessly into my world and bringing destruction with you,
for telling me i've crossed a line that you never drew,
for leaving without so much as  recognition of the disaster you brought.

i dont know if i should direct my hatred to myself.
for letting you break down my walls only to see you be the reasons why i had them up in the first place,
for giving you the key to a vault containing treasure i know you'd steal,
for being a warrior that turned into a distressed damsel when you came into my life.

i hate how traces of your shadow still appear in my dreams so far past the time when destiny pulled us apart as hard as it did when it pushed us together.

i hate how i unwillingly force myself to see you in everyone because no matter how bitter you taste in my mouth you were once my happiness and i want rediscover that in somebody else.

i hate how now i fear i might lose a person who likes the same things as i do, who fears the ocean like i do, who wonders about space like i do. i fear might lose them only because they didn't have the same way of running their hands through their hair like you do

i hate how i fear i might lose my soulmate simply because they weren't you.

i hate how you became my benchmark, my criteria for others who might actually even be better than you.

i hate how you keep the trophy for being the first person i gave my heart to.

you were a harsh reminder.

i learned it the hard way, but at least now i knew.

first impressions do last.

— The End —