hereunder is served some poetry pouches full of love,
dear reader, stir them as you like,
if you wish you may crack them to pour into mouth,
you may smear them on your body
or you may sprinkle them on the ground
and then chant the name of god
with love and enjoyment

1.
the simplicity that rolls down
from the body of the sweet-meat
made by my mother

let it brings light
to our radish-red love-story

to hear or to notice
love
does not need
putting an ear on the wall
of the wall-street journal

the bottle could be filled
from the voice

when you go to fill the bottle
you would see that everywhere
the arrangement of picnic is ready

when i want to take part in that feast
my neighbours would drive me towards
the home  

although i’ve spent all my life
running behind the love

2.
who’s won the muddy-battle
was yesterday’s politics

my addiction is actually to cater
the pouch of love
to develop all vitamins
and all bathrooms

people say you don’t love
the claps of the rats

yet i’ll come down
from the branch of a guava-tree
as a wave-of-shopping-mall
to the lake of your love

now i’ll jump out
from this computer screen
to register a kiss
on your lips

don't miss to applaud
by clapping the hands


3.
the heart is half-sunk
in the window

to some extent
in the lipstick too

on the dinner-plate
there is the feelings of the lord

that means
i’ve to be burnt more
i do agree

i would become
the sculpture of khajuraho

this happenings may have been
the right search for love

on either-side of which  
a green is being worked out
by the nostalgic-cycle

whose colour-texture is very much harappa
which has too many geometric-memories

4.
an undertone is speaking
from within the solitude

now i’m in very much
distress

or i’m in love

i don’t know my love is what-for
may be that’s an arrangement only

so easily are those interactions
stitched with words

strenuous or effortless
in flight
initiated
with seclusion

but when in the sinking of the playfulness
i  write the games of the street-charmers


the birds again and again
pierce the archery

thus becoming ashes
through travelling

in time-gaps still
the audacity to compose poems
on you

5.
is it true love
or i do take it granted
that i’m in love

or i do love to think
that i’m loving

and there is
neither any welcome address
nor any opening song
in my love

my experience with heat of fire
and with burning pain
in the flames of water
is nothing less

6.
in course of burning
i look around

the chilly-plant  in the tob
planted in my won-hand
producing green-chillies

oh-** how sweet they are

it is no chilled-body
that has earned
my life or death

no remarkable mark
is endorsed
on the lotus-leaf

now easily some words
can be written
on you

i don’t know whether
those would be at all
some lines of a poem


7
someone falls in loves
someone makes love
love comes to some another

there is the far-off
whispering

at first she constructs me
then destroys rightly

i notice her
for the first time in six weeks  

the love
that writes
in the footnote of the tennis-ball
a desperate struggle for existence

within our skull
there is the love

or the midnight of the orion

the little squirrel asked now
are you in your seventies
or eighties

those houses with the coating of
the sky the air the light-and-shade
provide me with the presentation of
a wig and
a set of artificial teeth
8.
the love
that touches the hand
in drizzling

the love
that gets lost in the brandishing
grasses

would they want to inform
that the flowers don’t have any skyscraper

in the layers of the flesh and blood
of the detergents
as if  a whole human civilisation has been suffering
from suppressed pain

within it with the dry spell of
anger and cough
the time

had there been no feeding from the love
does the human civilisation stagger

9.
do you think those words
or it’s myself

whatever may you say now
i’ll travel within a great death
to die

rather after my demise i may tell
i’ve informed everyone …look

beneath the large evergreen flower tree
the game of light and shadow continues

beside those simple households
besides a high-head mobile-tower
what else would you like to be

is it a bath in the ganga-river is it a leaf
of the water-lily or it’s a king-cobra  
tell me

i would now make love
with that idea from you

10.
the  apparent golden *** that i thought
to be the underneath of a kadam-tree

in the dim light i can notice that
the stars in the sky are disappearing  

this session of poetry
is coming to an end

now where would i
go

to that little home

the home
a tiny word of 4 letters

within that home
the children are giggling
playing … and making funs

when i entered
with a tri-cycle in hand
for them

i have been perplexed
many old persons are waiting there
to shake hands with me

10.
almost most of my desires  
are very much hurt

to show it publicly
i wrap bandages
around all over my body

i keep on the stage-drama  

in our programme of reading poetry
tea is served twice
current has gone off for three times
for four times the mobiles ring

to pick up love  
some people think about returning back
from today’s dais to the ancient stage
of performing folk-drama

then they are also sympathetic
to my sufferings

12.
everyday
on my way to return home from the school
when my mom took hold of my hands

i could see in my body
the dancing of an unforgettable
aura

even now that mystical halo is walking
on the leaves of the trees
to fulfil my mornings

that wayfaring along the road
is ringing far and far-off

thus taking bath in every day’s  
dust smoke hue and cry

many such love
gradually gets aged

is it true
in the long run
i too
would be the ingredient
of a fairy-tale

just because i love
that paddy field

some time later
she will also become
human

13.
then she will make all of us  
join her walking

those inmost feeling
those memories meditations

the loneliness  and solitude…

sans the touch of the imagination of
a crater…
a creator…

this blunder…
this socially outcast white …

this type of uneven…
and irrelevance…

sume words
when peep in the mind
i surprise to see that
it’s ten to 2 at night

then in the balcony
my father is crying

he always notices some grave-yard men
in front of him

and sheds tears  

14.
after the dry leaves of the winter
fall in innumerable drops
the spring comes

the cover-face of spring means
a note-book of the rain-tree
letting float in the sun-water

and mr harry says that
this question of change
is a major pull

because all the unreal talks
you are delivering one by one

to keep pace with it
the ambulance comes at 10am
with a stale dead-body

in it’s shirt
is written the spelling of myself

i then sat on the grey volume
of the college-campus

in the front
a beggar from the war of waterloo
is passing by

over the dust of myself
with a faster pace
blowing is the thoughts of

ataraxia  
in the air… and air… and air…
    

15.

if your wishes colour silver
then do return back to the x-mass dancing
of the autumn

sound of whose far-off hoof-steps
digging so much soil of
story-weeds

i went into the nail-polish
with the proof of tea-cup
in my hand

there in the midst of lot of snow-flakes
and in the bed soft with the light of the candle
is now that honey-name more tarnished

now the atomic-howling
does not follow the rules of nature

so the rain-tree that seeks a-field-more-sky
with the hope to become king after the sun-rise

so that king is now waiting
in the grocer’s shop
at a stretch  for an hour

16.
does her well-wisher esse then thinks
to escape from the love-making whirl-wind

on the dry branches of the axis power
the new generation of the birds

rather stop a while there silently and listen
which song is hidden in the bronze-buddha

or in the school of the terracotta-horse

i’m now opening the coating
of the night-enamel to read this home

and behind the coo of dove
is smiling

the god of the penalty-kick

17.
sitting on an orange-coloured balcony
in an outsider lane
the green is writing poems
  
better than the face-powder

from this side all long the famine
i’m the priest of the
agro-based civilisation

still-then i think
why so much light of partiality
is on the body of the chrysanthemum

within the monsoon
in collusion with the  hair-band
now thousands of birds are born  

they can hear my
dry straws and twigs

whose hearing is the police
in so depth of the forest

don’t move the
dreadful resorts

one such photograph of the girls
who wakes up in the midnight

speechless…
unmindful …
destruction…

that is you now

i’m then in the spore
of the perfume-bounded body
of match-making

18.

who has lied in the box
made up of the temperature
of god

all on a sudden
there is a hue and cry
in the abdomen of the time
wearing a ***** pajama

actually that has been filtered up
from the voices of rock-songs

the roaming
of a fatigued traveller …

the lies
within their wishes
write my existence

and then run
to buy vegetables
from the station-market

so many lay-offs
come to the body of paper-weight

to listen to all those
is not improper

walking through the traffic-jam
gradually
this home becomes solely my home

one day the golden of
human

then it is i
who is you

and walking through the
monsoon

on either side of the field
it is all autumn

19.
when borrowing the religion of
the night-queen  
i fall in love

then is it real
that our mangos and jack-fruits  
can make the perfumed-soap
vigorously from the light of the
blood-line

i count the bells of the churches
ringing repeatedly

and piercing the image
of your prominent face

rounding through lots of old
the love becomes exhausted

and the love comes back
in the form of college-classes

there are you myself
and so many notes
of the body

dear lovely lady or kind sir,

my family has just come in to extreme, monumental good fortune, the likes of which amze the pope himeslrf and lama dolly too.

poor creidt have i thru sad mismanagement of funs, now big banks an capital cfompanies venturees, fail to reply to wll intentioned requestes for baluabel fund.s needed.

however, telegram did jyst arrive, my faimly na me so very very happy.
the sum is 100,000,000,000 dollars US with half more in pounds sterling...
currency calculator on blink... but we think this much scratch.

plesae be soknid if you will ,  i send you MY band account informaiton, then when funds come through you share with me?  you help us please?

sincerallly,
Miss A I r Head

The kidnapping of Brian and Mark. Yeah they're both with the great gullet dude




You see one day at the Belconnen bowl, Brian Allan and Mark Marlor, were talking to each other, you see Brian Allan was 32 and Mark Marlor was 11, mark really liked Brian because he didn't want to hassle the kids, he wsnted to be their friend.
So after both Brian and Mark finished bowling, they went into the cafe and there was this strange man who was looking at Mark Marlor's shiny 11 year old kid legs and he noticed Brian Allan hardly any hairs on his legs, and Brian was a man, but because looked like a kid, the man wanted to grab him as well, so when Brian and Mark left the bowling alley, the man got out two bags, and into one bag he put Brian Allan, and the other was for Mark, the kidnapper said, I finally have, Brian Allan, yeah I have wanted that for months, and yeah, I really want Mark Marlor, yeah, Mark you ain't a fucken kid, then the kidnapper said to Steve, who was Mark's father, yeah, I will never give this kid to you, ever and ever again,
And he went to the Allan family and said, Brian, is now with and like us, you see he is now like Mark Marlor, no he isn't like Chris, so suffer, Brian Allan, man, you are not like usses
Anymore, Mark, you are with him, cause you put tape on your mouth, yeah, you are now with me, forever, and you ain't a family person anymore.
Mark and Brian, in the back of the truck, were yelling out, help, let us out, we are too cool little kids, but the kidnapper said, no, everyone else are kids, and Brian Allan and Mark Marlor. Are kidnap victims, and you 2 will never be free, and I will make both Brian and Mark, little young dudes to a kidnap, and I will fucken make sure, that they will never be family people ever again.
Mark was yelling through the duct tape. Stuck on his face, you can keep Brian Allan, because he is a hooligan, but let me go back to bowling, I want to say, that Brian's over, but the kidnapper said back to Mark, yeah heh heh heh heh, his funs over, but so is yours, yeah Mark Marlor, you are not a family cool kid anymore, you are a little cool kid to a kidnap, just like Brian Allan, yeah I have you both.
So the kidnapper was driving on the road with both Brian Allan and Mark Marlor ******* tightly in the trunk, and despite them wriggling and wriggling, oh yeah they were, the kidnapper didn't care, oh no.
And as the kidnapper drove on Cohen Street, in Belconnen about 3 in the afternoon, he noticed young 17 year old Brendan riding his roller blades down the Cohen Street hill, and then as he passed the kidnapper's car, Brendan fell off his roller blades, and the kidnapper got out to pretend he was a good Samaritan, but instead of that, he got an empty bag, and put Brendan into it and them he threw Brendan into the bag, and then the kidnapper went, yes, I have kidnapped Brian Allan, Brendan Schultz, and Mark Marlor, these kids will never escape, yeah I have them, oh ****** yeah.
Then the kidnapper went to his house in Mcgregor, and then he put Brian, Brendan and Mark into his room,and locked the door and said, heh heh heh heh, you dudes will never escape, you see, you three are happy kids, well, now you will fucken ****** die.
Noe Brian, Brendan and Mark, were yelling out, help let us go, please we are fucken being held for ransom, and we are three poor kids, but the kidnapper is threatening to **** these 3 kids, and them hold us all for ransom oh yeah, but then the parents of the3 victims, came to save them, you see they saved Brian and Brendan, and they were allowed to go, and told to never come into their area, but he killed Mark Marlor, right in front of Steve and said your kid is evil, so suffer Steve, and Steve said. Mate. I am glad you killed my son Mark, cause he is a little family kid, who is annoyingly happy, yeah, thanks mister kidnapper you did the Marlor family a favor, so from that day, Brian and Brendan tied themselves up to avoid that again and from that day they were trapped in there, and never to be adults again, the kidnapper was put on the firing squad.
The end


Sent from my iPhone

Dear spotlight,
i must have died upon meeting
you, that night,
surely, lost my ways when you
befriended me,
your chanels led me to the
nothing i have turned into
and the funs you gave me,
cheered me to sixfeet under
the expensive cars i drove in,
the funcy colours you dressed me,
the bigger picture you made of
me,
made me believe heaven was down
here on earth
the king you made me,all the
greener pastures you fed me
kept me far from the exit door,

Dear spotlight,
you gave me fame, riches and
power,
made me forget my innocent self,
you got me hanging on the
eleventh hour,
contemplating on how i would love
to jump out,
out of the main stream and
continue to daydream
in your arms, i found my strength,
in my strength, i found my pride,
in my pride, i lost my way,
i lost my soul, then i lost my wife,
but before i lose my life,
i want out!
out of the main stream
and continue to daydream

Let your gloomy hearts rise
Let your lips sing praise
For the lord has risen
From gory deaths prison
With sacrifice and pain
Mighty god has repaid
To redeem his own pawn
From dark activities
Of negativities
To restore every cause
Of life and its purpose

Lets break the sepulchres
Of selfishness and curse
Rise up in love to see
The beauty of the world
The purpose as its told
Just live and be happy
And pass it to your sons
And daughters and their sons
The happiness and funs
Are just for you to own
And leave behind in turn
To the next in your line
So let your lips sing praise
And hold your hands and raise
Kiss your friends and embrase
Just fill your living space
With Lords glory and grace
Wearing on your own face.

When I broke up with my eighth grade girlfriend I was kinda mean....I told her I'd found my one true love....to this day she remains the love of my life...one that never causes strife....I love her so much I've cloned her a million times.  Rooted her in several states even foreign soil.  Every flavor, every size, she gets me Everytime; ever funs my spoils.   To my faithful lover I pledge my love til the end of ryhme.  Never smoke in mirrors....with her I'll be just fine.

Summers here
Everyone cheer
Water fights
Warmer nights
Fans spinning
Children grinning
All in the midst of summer

Parks heaving
Plants breathing
Bins stinking
Beer drinking
Skys clear
Funs here
All in the midst of summer

Sun cream
Lovers dream
Ice cream cones
Hot stones
Barbecue chicken
Ice lolly licking
All in the midst of summer

The Dead gone forever
Photographs remain

Taipei typhoon weather
Muslim southern Spain

Lorca in New York
Leonard Cohen knowin'

Bob Dylan don't eat pork
The wind is still blowin'

Tonight I miss my mother
Tonight I miss my sons

Life is endless sadness
Bombs. Wars. Guns.

But the beach is warm and wondrous
And once we had a little funs.

Girlvert succeeds

Chalkboard
Girl
Poem
Boy
Gets
Key
In
Keyhole
Der

Disappointed Riley won't live

Must complete wizard realm for Sasha genuine

San Clemente Marquardt darting always winning

Taryn Catastrophe canvas funs
With Carly

Kevin lives in Evermore

Silent film scenes "approximating with a city"
Using words like, very, and leaving, work
This bit conveigniently renamed itself

J D Advances
My length of walk?
From origin as work
Defines energy in momentum
Obstruction is capable mathematics from here
On in the document
As sun crests new yorks harbor
In California I awaken to writing, publishing
Shower of body is not reachable
Nor the causeway of commerce
Food procurement
The framers cannot be gained by days end
Patterning a fold....this is that budget measure

Finish map with lifeline tent
Proximity build 1

Mean median and mode
Q factor constraints
Point a nearest origin (highways and bus)

Lag halts at commercial district mid service station
Janns road complex
Patience and safe space for respite and last words
Small portion control point of obstruction to prosperity


3189 characters left
These messages are being captured and archived in compliance with the Presidential Records Act or the Federal Records Act.


No money there
She trains coming
Circle homes, begging nothing
Waiting, reading, instructions, go! No?

Gotta, can't the jog
Moving in? With/while going out
2nd application note, pencil in me

Successful spy, avoid partnership
Partner with news ship
Next worry district going away
Reach and change rent appointments
Losing let down tap, taps

Taste of upstairs
Still in process of fold and arrive
Arrive greets and seats
Picture of joy
Joy of arrivals
Shuffle of gamble deposits
And loans to room matings

New officer of bank?
Sliding on staircases of banking exit

A vice president on the cover page?
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025

New Yorker must handle California possibilities

The geez of rent

Early upper zuma jazz tap
He wo motto took a shield for the bettering of
Boy bubble kev
Upper right ****** damage severe ordinance requirement of lifeline preserve cartography blissed out

Gregory Hines session energetic time card!
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025

I was a patriot recital, nick

Say you, say me

The speech of fear?
The ghost laughing dear
Would not a smiles life
Flutter in songs as oil



The objection by the press as correspondent or representative of foreign delegate has the objective ink awarded by a free press with a free speech that does not to interfere with a peaceful assembly of legislature.
What say you on the matters of a privatized linguist, whose employer seeks further interest than democracy?  Does this investigation subvert, and subversive counter, is this translation of rights a violation of the singular civil right one must guard as an American?



Please refuse me
Allow me to grow
Burnt wind
Surround me in glades
Wildflowers abandon
And rejoice not for hearing
Alter yet again
In stance, take yours away
From me I’ll die to live
Without

Devout i have vowed
To times forgotten
Withered pace of lies
Clerics of hallowed accomplice
Stave thy calling

Crested salt so foreign to my shores
Heed my prayers
Alone i beg to pass
Rumbling depth of mask
I dare not return
Tempered and defeated
I bare
Soul and spirit
Before the beasts

Never again the flavor of romance



Through a knight i once
Was born
         As two sing of Heralds dew
His tremble i could not
                           Fear
Nor exit passage at his
                                  Rear
A clearing wore upon him
               Causing gentle defeat
Septs of embers closing in
                                 On nest
Filler of lust bitter and
                    Rancid
Breathing difficulty amongst
                             His howl


Chalkboard Girls

Painting of an invisible thought

Clusters of sheets, life less the seats

A frame triangle, one pale of circles

How the mending of their molds

Seeds the desert shoals

Columns enter pillars, crumbling moons
                , defeat,  a star
Backing ends screaming sane
   Drumming guitars beg shape

Reaching scents decrepit spirit

Gathering charred prints
                , nails,  above foot


Excerpts from first revision of
tampering with zen

LOS ANGELES – Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass and Los Angeles Police Department Chief Jim McDonnell today announced safety preparedness measures the City is taking to protect Jewish communities across Los Angeles in advance of the High Holy Days.


The education of Jewish language is thoroughly involved in definition and progress to next improvement.

Mention of antisemitism is a public confusion of Jewish and non Jewish Americans awaiting legible article of congress from staff persons.

We are literally in charge of our journals and journalism we understand not to advertise.


Statements to the times of Los Angeles are waited upon, rather than podium repetition.

Hi Bella
Loves
Bella Hadid can't read?

Belladita the plague returns to me!
Please the away sunshines for me!
Again the multitudes of loving upon my diseases

I am hear for the listening yes
Novella, si, mi esposa

The viceroy attends
You need the little bits,

Irish boy prefers Aphrodite

"**** shames, shames in ****"
"Wander, wander, gentle glut"
"Hiking treasure, lowered beverage"
"Against the nestled cove inside the ***"

Boy stands on his minds waves
Sliding along his the forehead
Girl swims at brain wave from behind
Make the cough

Surf and beaching
French children's hours

That's she's dead is wonderful

Obnoxious means oil painting in Irish poetry
First pass if pillowtalk **** ridicule funs

I write pity poverty poems
For the dying poor
Cuz I'm highly educated
And politicians eat surrender from Irish wishing well

I look up to god
When I'm drunk

because

He's a view to
Crane my neck to.-

gets in the way

~

Your fate is to die in the earthworm's stomach;

Deploy detail from your life
and digitize a seance for its-self

alone

only one who knows you
is

. . .

Could you even
defy Hershey's grip,
you sodomite?

Playing @
these sorts of extracurricular fights

It's truly
earthworm's who will deliver you right-

ly a quick and sympathetic death.

~

but f٭٭k it. Roach
Away floods my feet,
and factions divide my liver;
i am hardly
flotsam.

I'm adjectives of wreck,
synonyms of much
deprived floods of
smoke. Such that shuts
me away, away, away.
Fate-funs break my spirit-
and you run,
you run!

How dare you rush like sequin
onto any bare skin surface-
you chocolate, running.
I hate you

I hate you all.

Do not develop emotions,
or ****;

and by all means,
despise yourself.

And,

waste

apart from mind.

Be you in an earthworm's behind.

~

F٭٭٭٭٭g a challenging nothing.
I want you to be something,
anything.

Nun me. I would make
many-***** out of your pieces
of cake.
I hate you.

I hate you all.

You. F٭٭٭٭٭g. Lottery. Punks.

The lines in my face are a perfect sum
of the precise faults of
the earthworm's gut.

~

Your neurotic monks-
you've got me
addicted
to a specific death

My fate is to develop in the earthworm's gut.

/

Maybe I'll experiment with blood

Maybe I'll experiment with bloodK٭٭l me quickly

K٭٭l me quickly

Maybe I'll adhere with burns

Maybe I'll steer me under
under
under
ground

Milk me quickly

I can’t be a suicidal sine
serving a princess-and-the-pea type mind

Maybe I’ll try to be a DeviantArt update,
desperate emotion bemusing in keystroke

I’ll experiment with light

I’ll imperialize her fuse

Fill yr unsanitized fins with

Ifs

and maybe I'll experiment with ***

Maybe I'll rip you from your life

Ifs spit from naked myth

K٭٭l me quickly,

you horrible,

you gorgeous

earthworm spit.