Leatherette poems on Hello Poetry

Eryri Sep 2018

Sat on a leatherette sofa waiting for my order.

The kitchen looks to be in some disorder.

The staff are flirting,
The customers deserting.

Leaving me still sat on a leatherette sofa wondering,

Where in the hell is my order?!

Paul James Valhalla Clear May 2013

Happy Belated Anniversary.

dear iron maiden

leatherette bound spine

worn blue dress

gaslight district cafe smile

eighth floor

ninth floor

whatever

i’m here

four doors down

knocking on

thrift store loneliness

that you just can’t give away nowadays

we

dare polaroids

point and laugh

but not of mockery

catalog pictures

a galaxy or two

more panoramic for any shutter

wide angle lens

a thousand batted lashes

and double takes

i’m easy to capture

and purposely left behind

like a coffee cup beyond the windowsill

beneath the screenprint letters

(and) for your eyes

——————————-

wednesday

Evan Stephens Apr 2019

39th Birthday

The
Dublin
strand
is papered
in wind,
my old
book
renewed
into
romance.
I love her.

Pen
scratches
the
whole
page
black,
& variant
sprawls
of my
name
repeat
until I
own a
house.

Sister
& I
in dad's
old car
head
up to
Petworth,
& walk
back
under
a sky
that
rolls
& folds,
a bolt
of cloth.

Break
new trees
on the
prison
island,
handcuffs
of ivy,
jump
the fence
& escape
to the
highway.

In
Georgetown,
lush reeds
wave from
the canal
bottom,
easting
in the
chartreuse.

Then cross
to Dupont,
thronged
with
day-enders
and students
shifting
from
coffee to
*****
as the
hour rises.

Scheherazade
cancels,
but I make
the best
of it,
writing at
the bar
next to
the girl
in leatherette.

The day
ends
with me
fighting
the pharmacy
of my
sleepy
blood
while I
break
the bed
I always
hated
and
throw it
into the
orange.

Day's done.
Another
year to
come.
Thinking
of her -
sleep.

CT Bailey Apr 2011

4 a.m.

I remember dad lying
in a hospital bed breathing,
but not much more than that.
Hours were spent watching assistants
come and go.
Televisions droned through the hallway
from other rooms,
echoing through my head
like an old movie playing at
4 a.m.
after pulling a drunk.
Rousing moans from dad
punctuate the tedium.
Sweat pools under my thighs
from the high-quality,
leatherette upholstered chairs
that only one hundred thousand dollars
of medical care could provide
in a hospital room.
Mornings
brought the same parade of people
pressing and probing dad.
Occasional visits from the resident physician
yielded timeless comments like,
“we just want him to be comfortable,”
and my personal favorite,
“have you been here all night?”
Stupid question.
After all the “outpourings” of concern
from friends and relatives
(who I haven’t seen nor heard
from since the dirt was shoveled over his casket),
their visits can only be topped
by the Sunday-after-church-crowd,
who desired only to brand dad
with their version of beliefs -
God bless them.
As they were leaving,
I could most certainly detect the pride
they felt in themselves
for their courageous visit to the dying.
And then came death.
And here I am at 4 a.m.
in the morning two years later,
listening to a two-bit movie drone on the TV,
wondering if dad listened to the
Sunday-after-church-crowd.

© 2010 C.T. Bailey

Jonathan Witte Oct 2016

Killer Story (Part One)

My mother’s second cousin
went to a fine university,
majored in anthropology,
and wore Italian wingtips
and a black fedora pulled
down rakishly over one eye.

I hear he was a handsome man.

He joined Toastmasters
and spoke extemporaneously
to small crowds of strangers.

He packed a leatherette
bag and went bowling
every other Sunday night.

He took his children camping
and taught them to catch a fire
with magnesium and tinder.

He mowed the lawn
with lapidary precision;
neighbors admired
his yard: brilliant green,
sharp as an emerald.

He played the spinet piano
in the hallway after dinner,
the metronome clicking out time.

His black suits—
immaculate skins
of a domesticated
creature—smelled
of cigarette smoke
and fountain pen ink.

But, according to my mother,
something went wrong along the way.
He began to hunger for something that clawed
just beyond the evenly trimmed hedgerows.

He smiled at night, listening
to malevolent creatures leaping
from rooftop to rooftop.

He began to hate his wife’s
brown dresses: brown is
the color of compromise,
he seethed to himself.

His voice became quieter;
bowling became a bother.

Eventually,
he left his fedora hanging
on the coat rack in the hall.
His neglected wingtips gathered
dust in the bedroom closet.
The pockets of his favorite suits
swelled with cryptic notes, written
to himself with stolen fountain pens.

One night, when the children were sleeping,
he set the table and killed his wife with a spoon.

I hear he was a handsome man.

Part two forthcoming.

Nat Lipstadt Mar 2016

why is it that at 38,000 feet above the sea, the words come steady easy?

why is it that at 38,000 feet above the sea, the words come steady easy?**

~~~

heart and head soundlessly conversing,
as the body southernly traversing,
along the Atlantic Seaboard latitude,
quiescent, his manners and attitude,
sure where he is physical destined,
unsure where he is living bound

this time,
his designated place,
a blue leatherette stoop,
identifiable as Seat 23C

three seats, rowed across,
four letters, aisle down,
the crossword question;
what rhymes with "don't y'all know it" -
must be that word,
poet

why is it
that at 38,000 feet
above the sea,
the words come steady easy?
almost as if, they grow excited
by their return to the angelic upper atmospheres,
from whence they fell,
to a planet where mundanity revels

nothing to say,
plenty to feel,
like I said,
the head and the heart confer,
a baby born poem emerges
bawling and crawling,
lolling and drawling,
southern style

poem does not state a particular,
direction unknown,
disposed to the philosophical,
it forms, then reforms,
stymied but satisfied ironical,
posing while reposing,
the newborn's query repitiously millennial,

why?

the answer too,
an airborne pollen perennial,

just because

march 8, 2016
somewhere between
nyc & Fla.
11:20 pm

Sana Abdul Rehman Nov 2016

1 AM Ramblings of a Drunken Soul

The bacteria within my clogged nasal passage fight to see the light
My sandpaper throat takes up arms to be heard over the deafening din
Come into the light, she says; embrace what you are, how you look...
Who you seem to be;
But I can't, I don't want to, I shan't.

I turn around, take a step away
Two steps now, my black socks getting dirtier every second,
Every minuscule moment of this pathetically dull existence
Words, spinning within my metaphorical brain
Hurtling around: subsonic, then super
Uncatchable first, incomprehensible now
Raw, wild, honey & dates
Thaw, mild, funny fates.
Intertwined, intersecting
Neutral, calm, unaffecting.

Lo, and behold
The minty phosphorescence of a happy soul
The harsh contrast of a cerulean one, serene and calm
Bells in the distance, tolling
Strolling along a cherry blossom-lined pathway to nowhere.

Light cutting shapes through the dusty fawn net
Reflecting off the velveteen cushion, scarlet
Dancing now, on the sequined gold but torn
gold, but torn
Torn table cloth, snagged by the claw of a domesticated feline.

Tail wagging, agitatedly
Fast now, then slower
Claws exit the sheath
The fire within causing the ringing of multiple high pitched alarms
No smoke to do the detecting
Old bloke, what are you protecting?

Of that old but weary
Old
Weary
Leatherette case, rexine perhaps?
Yes, rexine. You are the rexine of the universe
cheap, spoilt and ugly
peeling off
looking in the mirror at myself
yes, she says, I am rexine.

But no, I am the dancing celestial light of 3 AM,
I am the beginning of a cat's purr.
I am the lost dusty books of an auctioned abbey
I am the last drop of water.

The sky on a bad day,
Clouds gathering
Soap lathering, (Made in France (c))
It says.

I am the 2% navy-dark-ink-pale blue of an underappreciated sunset
Viewed from a filthy beach.
I am the cracked glass in the cupboard that someone has forgot to dispose of

I am the unregistered number plate
the first dry petal of a once fresh marigold
Offered out of sheer boredom, playfulness

I am the sticky key of an old 1989 keyboard
I am the grease stain on your favorite shirt.

I am the betraying exposed underwire of your favorite bra
I am the lost button.

The maybe, the perhaps, the never
The maybe the perhaps, the ever

The gestation period of a tiger, she says
Is 113 days.//

Lawrence Hall Jun 2022

A Chewing-Gum Girl Waiting for the Sunset Limited

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

A Chewing-Gum Girl Waiting for the Sunset Limited

Long, long ago

In the station at Tucson we waited
Someone said the locomotive had burned in the desert
A girl with earphones chewed gum through the hours:
Roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP-CHOMP

Her eyes were closed, her music was her god
She clutched a leatherette case of tapes
Just as some clutch a Bible, and chewed:
Roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP-CHOMP

Her mechanical chomps could have been the rhythm
Of the passenger train that wasn’t there
My paperback novel never joined in:
Roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP-CHOMP

I don’t remember her boarding the train
That in the evening finally arrived
She might be in the Tucson station still:
Roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP, roundy-CHOMP-CHOMP

#sunsetlimited #tucson

David Bernard Scully Jan 2020

The girl before

Before Mark Twain knew he would
Always love Becky Thatcher the boy
Sam Clemens  knew her as a just a
girl in the neighborhood  Saw her as
A fellow child jumping rope giggling
To her friends Not his  It was the same
With me when I was small- there was
A girl Pauline with pigtails and very
Shy.  We never spoke but I just knew
She very nice and proper too much so
To notice  a mutt like me Such like was
The girlhood of my wife All she gave
Me was a sketch of a girl I never met I
did not know I loved her back then but
I know it now.  I know it now.

My Dad he not  long before  he died
Made her a bright tangerine colored kind
Of hassock that when you zipped it open
Four tangerine cushions were stuffed in it
It was carefully crafted something I
Could never make and She loved it
.  It was leatherette and a a little gaudy
where has gone to I  do not know
but I think .ll find it with  her in
Heaven where  Father  took her When I
Was faraway I loved her then and I love her
Now She  was the  girl for me; now  she.s gone
  l loved when I saw her skipping rope
n my mind
So long ago
I loved her then
I love her still

For Barbara

Nat Lipstadt Mar 25

in the waiting room

a slip and fall, busted up face,
an ambulance ride, cute young
docs, a his and her, in a busy ER
always apologizing for causing
any pain, and now again, in
another waiting room for the
specialist surgeon to,

make reperfect what was imperfect
naturally, seasoned and aged,
a face lovely and decanted,
a nice blush, though she looks now
a fresh mugging victim

and here I am, thinking about
all the waiting rooms in a long
life that I’ve called home, a temporal
temple abode, for waiting, praying
and now surmising and now, even for
composing

let’s not talk of bland, pastel colors
way past the over limit of blandness,
acoustic tile ceilings water stained,
and “leatherette” furniture,
that no else ever wanted in their
life, all sent off to die in the classical,
traditional rooms for waiting

births, deaths, diagnoses, verdicts
delivered, way stops on a traveling
life

#waiting #room #lipstadt

Lawrence Hall Dec 2023

A Connoisseur of Clinic Waiting Rooms

Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]

A Connoisseur of Clinic Waiting Rooms

I could regale you with tales of puppy dogs
Painted with matching little argyll vests
And Kodachrome sunsets snapped long ago
Darkness and dust settling on a fading lake

I could detail for you leatherette chairs
In rows beneath the television on the wall
Facing old women shrieking in HD
And years-old magazines that no one reads

A door opens to a whiff of germicide
My name is called – and there’s no place to hide!

Clinic Waiting Rooms

#clinicwaitingrooms

Robert Staines Mar 2021

Come to Lovely Looe

“Come to lovely Looe!” They said,
“And see the Jewel of Cornwall’s shores-
Where Cider, Cheese and Ale and Tea,
And Pasties rare will all be yours!
See Seagulls wheel, and Sardines sport,
In lovely Looe, our River Port –
Where golden beaches tickle toes,
And ***** and Ice Cream please the nose;
In Trago’s woods, hear Peacocks call;
And finest fish is here for all;
Where Farmers till the richest land,
And in the evening form a band;
To play ‘The Floral Dance’ I trow,
Or ‘Trelawny’s Air’ in measure slow.
And should you crave for Chips or Pies,
Or fine dressed Crab, sweet Fudge or Fries,
Then look no further; for the wise
And learned seek no more respite
Or ever eat another bite.
But wait! We have not told you yet
Of Sunshine, Sea and Leatherette;
Where bucket, ***** and children’s hand,
Build Castles fine upon the sand;
Where hardy Souls, in weather fine,
Do swim and frolic in the brine;
Or blessed Looe Island, Where tis whiled,
Our Saviour walked when but a child.
And in the evenings, music plays,
At festivals, and other days;
In taverns local to the town,
Where many a pint is quafféd down.
But ask no more what you should do;
Come join us here! There is no queue!”

I rode my Bike; I went to Looe;
And bless my Soul, It all was true!

Dracula cenc Jun 6

O'Lilyflower

Far gar away
In a distant
Home
There was small
Home of nest.
In the lane
Of avenue park.
Dracula tark
Was laying on
Cradle with
His napkin.
And his mother.
Cream piccacio
Pistachio post letters
Were written
In red ink.
dream day
Of morning Daisy darling
Of how about the first quartz
Cotton  neated in the
Meridian.
Sew a tail and skeir
And shirt elf.
With a self
Courier clean.
Life is still with still water to lay
In the fluroscent green mushroom.
She bothered fresh trout.
As sea sinks  grrp and feep in thru
Metropolitan Time
As another option is rest
The pinnacle capital oaf.
Thru elf and drui
She shook thru time bar machine
Connection nest of birds sleep
Morning Daisy darling
Deep with the wolf wild
Rift and feep.
She sew by mracth
In mracth office ghoul
Nip.
Sew on porch for digital graffiti
Sew the pinnacle moppal.
Cruto linto in cruris British
Linen fabric for the  best morning
Luis Miguel Angelo de Annette .
Luminary luminous intensity interval training.
Le petit peu kitto
Mtui maroon Kangaroo
Kite orange frontier Dracula sklein Sklein
Graphics tedd
Sawna.
Wonder fog vanished
Into thin air conditioning from village
Scout ****** became very popular among them were unavailable
Misc items were
Burneey
And lyonss
In the march fog the village sweets
A rusted tinted windows of office
Birds of prey upon this information to come home and feep and lyonss and drui the pinnacle capital oaf the wolf wild rift.The clunging and plunging on the turkey there were roosted rooms were breed wild caffe Nero.
Bridge quest of prey office ghoul and lyonss.
In roosted rooms
Smell of coffee brew.

Like peanuts of the hast thou wilt and feep I will not Sent 📤 the
Last updated
Wednesday Oct.
Oak carey  was living
On stone porch with wild cattle.
Stone cold Steve and lyonss
Were freezing cold.
in the night post of office ghoul
Last updated Wednesday Oct.
Church Street had a carpenter who vanished on sale of paper roses.
Poliferated nest paper.
progress.
The carpenter tastes the blood not thewooden peanut butter crafts of holy sky.
Philosophy stone.
Life is past always tastes good
Bitter nut ahead times faster c.
Life taste as wine when clouds
Hits nine mine is still with still
Still lake always frozen fish.
         Jumping  Mango goes out  of wall
Sailor  needle fixes needle always
On tailor clothes.
And tailor fixes needle always on
Car and cards.
Rest sunshine
                        On widow's
Window     .
Greyhold
And
WhiteBound.
Tadpoles always borne
In mud often reaps
Fertile soil.
Hair of yellow rose
Fights my souls.
🤢 Nasty peanut
In mouth.
Drink water
It might water
      A rain.
Art secularism
Always breed
Soveregin
Dogs.
Paddy fields paddling towns
Rice green  mushroom greener
Daffodils yellow
Red rose harbour
A Nasty 🤢 peanut
In the ship
Flakes harbour winds windshield
Nevertheless
Regins an Island yellow.
Lost vapour
Wafer
of moon.
Sense of
Essence.
My name sulokona
Did it smell rose or
Lily .
The old lady asked
The sparrow
How ease
Was for you to taste
Peanut and not
The butter.
Butterflies replied
Tadpoles can't fly.
She never meant roses
She meant alike Ghost
nosferatu .
Life taste like
Maid if milk
Is condensed.
Life tastes like wine
When are soccers are red.
Scottish Church Zcottcon.
Life is easy winds and chair.
We Brooke
Seek and hence.
Hence of fence
Clocks flocks
Grapes 🍇 vine
Rush a soul rest
Sunshine today.
Lfament paper.
Lqcent
Lacquers.
Leave and lie
Lwing.
Nosferatu.
Crescent presario.lyme lyme no more
Rain rain couch.
Is his hand frozen and not feasted or ******.
Lbrooke.
Lamenting lights
Saved Dave.
Lucui lucui
Ls femme de.
Lerie aritum.
His chest 🧰
Like 🦈
Elite flights.
Pippi cotton
Shirt.
Eyes of blue
Isabelle.
In the plight ofiss Carrie
He took chance
To mingle with a
Empty box.
He was the
Bailee.
And the plight of Miss Carrie was worsening.
Miss Carrie
Was flair woman 👠
With no tic tac  tickets .
Miss Carrie was  of a miniature
Featured woman .
She wore mostly blue.
He was watching as in the
He could ***** at any moment.

He was the bailee.
He took chances on Lily his daughter but she everything she
Tricked him .

He was in closet watching me every single moment which disturbed
Miss Carrie conditions.
Our sister Miss Angela lead us every very moment except Miss Riya
Who finched on every single grape we ate
Miss Carrie was carrying away by her suing thoughts one day she would nathe.
Said Miss Blue heaven Jasmin.
Russian rouble
Lopard Serennials
Mr Mosta tried to take **** 📼 instinct on his late wife Poppy and now his daughter Lily.
passenger train journey and nestes
Lark crust
Salted peanuts biscuits.
Russian man and woman.
stew by herwin.
Were nested.
Holce nest forests.
srew and Racula.
❌
swaerk.

Cris Carter Gayle.
Dracula bram.
Dracula tark and I used the black ink cartridge filter.
serw and I am going through deep water 🌊. Landscape and my beloved castle wife .
Dracula sklein and my beloved mother.
Nestle waters.Milk cartoons .
Life is just a journey
We all are sailors.
Never tear a notebooks page.
The panic art of black note.
Church Street was Black as clouds
As well I want my darling
To romance
And sailor drape crape forester
Lampshire cxon
Sew the black mittens and jacket of office gust busy as usual we will you
And the bird Penny trail mail 📬 💌.
Two laughter together.
Hyenas come
Dogs crawl.
Dracula Sabbath
Bat Arches.
Church of Christ.
Stew respect। Demands
Attorney.
We will you.
Bogle and Dunnie.
The grass is green
Day is sunny
Rain on the porch
Christopher Mcqueath
Life reaches of goals
Pladin and I
Nest of cuckoo
Nest and bread .
Life taste of newspaper
Metropolitan square
Bill and mouse.
Bar and office
Nest and tea.
Caffe and Latte.
katte and my beloved mother.
Nero.
Paint on the porch
With wooden chip.

Lime green light
Night grass
Chopper wood
Twinkle lark the Dracula sklein
In the house of
Evening
Bingle watch the
Catel
Vatel.
Caffron and Cassior
Conditions application
Fortnight Jack vatel.
Vettel and cortel.
cold water bottle 🥶.

Caffec and Cortex.
zenkinly machintoch.
April flowers
Pollens of pills
Nest of cuckoo
Monkey  darling
Dancing police
Crest of hill
Pollens of pills
Nuggets of the
Chicken biryani
I was cooked
Carfin and wax.
Sew.
Nest of cozy
Caterpillar and the plight of Miss Carrie was carrying out the plight of Miss you too.
Nest birds of prey
Preting on petty money.
News of afforestation in
Grand vitara and
Dracula sklein guitar song
On play and loop .
Nest the best birds of prey.
They shall encounter with
Harbingers birds.
zest of creak of
Ofiss door
Slightly better to be
Caffre nestum.
Porch birds couldn't say good bye
To darling Daisy.
Laying cuckoo's eggs 🥚 on Daisy Nest.
Carl Zeiss and larkinsky
In affecfit graffic and the cotton bird Penny
Nerco Merci beaucoup pour la Belle Isle vule
Con station
Front load washer for share abhram crift
Grace green gr.dracule
Mint  vintage
Cappunuchio
Fretta Fiesta
Minl mint vintage
Krist craffe
Krist craffe
Dracula nule
And nuke metting
Litras.
Graffucci grand craynola
Netta vest butterfly
Intj curing
Hinking
And larfour on roll grale.
Zetta and feeping
Nicote miscule
Notchre
Loche and I graddic
Lint.
fressia and grass is rest.
Mint the green
Light the blue
Batch.
Peace.
Cruyff and lyonss.
Nostalgia critic.
Murci and cruic
Kraft paper roses
Lafer hijle.
Serbian bear
Nicote.
Sew.
Nest of fig .babble tree.
Zion crunch
Fretish fresh
Mink lashes
Lionel Richie incognito
Kast draculr e
Hyenas howl
Low crunch
Pistachio green
Yolks  folks Isep
Greegreen
Yera
Nature and brink.crush creat.
Saw the wolf.
Wood beams.
Zarf carf.
Card linetto.
miskin restitue
Carrie conditions for hospital.
Gopal krishna Rudra
Feep in betters
Vetter.
Crusade fest on drive
Nest a carpenter rusted tinted glass.
La espenza. ☕
Wooden chip
***** a trap.
Night a bulb.
Bulk a bed.
Draw a skirt.
Draw a shirt.
Draw a tie.
Put a pant
Put a shirt
Put a tie
Put a time watch.
Graphic card.
Cross ❌ road.
Savour a orange.
Mix sugar milk eggs vanilla
Baking soda orange pulp.
Ferfule with a carmer
Put in a tin box .
Bake for 39C.
Deàth come
Slowly as
Winter waves it's first snow
Gentle graffe
Blue waves
Sea of life
Drown me
Take me to heaven
Where sky is blue
Raphael sing
Angel weave
Wednesday kite
Lamps blue with oil
Glass and milk castle
Brown wings
Brow and bow.
Ink of Latin
Now runs dry
From Friday
Fever.
Somebody insert
***** .
How the arrow was shrap
I could see.
How the blade was green
My mother couldn't see the
Throat.
I could cloud
But no rain
Appears
Justice for cobbler shoes
Irony
My mother screechs.
Laughs turning blue
Black raven growls.
Frocks for women
Shoes for men
How to put a touch to
Grieving AIDS.
From the plight of Miss Brooks.
Knuttle the shuttle
Kettle the tea
Bell the day
Morn and morning
Daisy blue
Blurred rain
Railway carriage
Late
You promised
Mr to my mud House.
Grand Curtis.
Flake of snow .
Nest of Vettel.
Nest of Neet.
Was kite flying
So high
You throttled
Her waist
Purjury premandes
Maiden a man
Received a throttled
*******
Is woman
So Curry
That you crawl
Into her ******
Like snake.
A tough leatherette
*******.
Why death so wicked
I wanted a white
But you Black clown.
Allow the just
Winds to take their
Course.
Brindavan.
A climate to clear
The planet wearth.
You cry
You cry
He comes like gangster and a enuch
To carry to his trucks of
Rust and filth
You choke
They choose to feed grains
To feeble birds.
An nut *******
For the duck.
She is dizzy
Let cence
Feed her ******.
Go to alter to ❤️‍🔥.
Friday night grass.
So cool.
Snake game were designed
With Lizzy.
Rest in test
Of armed men from
Salt island.
Walt errings
Goose feeding.
University lost the ferocity
Of holiness
Which now licks torn head.
Fool the porch light
Fool pope
Fool bearings  fruit
No I never want
Sn *******.i
Wear white clothes
And maintenance of
Dasi.
My white clothes were
Drained into cobbler's ink.
I smell like an animal.
Death and draughtsman
Drag into van to take dungeons and dragons dystopia.
Burning lamps
Cry with savage .

Hello ma
Pinkiiss white colour.
You look so tired and weary
Am I a burden?
I was busy making financial security and build houses.
You are very faint.
My YouTube doesn't
Work
Pa the Koala Australia Debasish Biswas.
Ma Lenny Italian I was getting mad how God made with out mother.
I was researching ghosts, though my spirit anime is bat.
You look fragile and weak.
Now your re old
I was selling popcorn and chips
To build bank.
Chunks of wood for
House building.
And you know tea ☕.
Ghosts were confusing and cheating
And molestation
That's sparked a revolt
Though ghosts are white
And we love wearing
White that's the other side of coin .
I wrote a book about dracula
Dey has become blackboard because of chalk.
My earlier boyfriend.
Samir lepcha.
Ravinder Singh is my new boyfriend
Else the board gets black.
Many darling but fannie larita is perfectly.
Though a child without mother is a blind person.
I got a new job at
Carlington.
Butcher and satin saints
Of India.
Puffy.
Puffy.
Puffy.

Found a church St.Anthony .
Bricks and garlic kiss from India.
They induced drugs and matchstick.
More often people take advantage of orphans.
PA Debasish biswas fought drought heat and heat and humidity to -----

Lenny.

MSN.

.
Cottcon, DraculaStein,crent.

#daffodils

Norbert Tasev Jul 12

The unbearable duel of existence

I keep turning back through the pages of my life's codex; memories, shadows of the past, even the persistent, tenacious deep layer, the poor pimples of annual rings still hint at a recurring ominous omen for my otherwise shipwrecked Robinson Crusoe life. The weight of crystal memories almost crushes me, even though I was no more sinful, foolish, or wasteful than the rest - a kind face, a good deal of good mood, unexpectedly comes to mind, because I often gain more truth from the reflections of talkative faces than from the cavernous depths of soiled, muddied souls.

In petrified depths, along with adverse trials, a few more eloquent sermons bubble up: "My dear friend! Why is this useless, worn-out life of yours not good for you?! It's true! Your bills and utilities are still in order, and even though you haven't bought yourself a new jacket, Lewis jeans, or elegant Italian leatherette shoes in ten or so years, you can still wait a long time for that sparkling toothpaste commercial smile.

Why do you behave like an orphaned light flickering in the darkness of the night, which deliberately prefers to hide its petty, selfish secrets and only glows from the inside?!" Your human attitude seems to last only for seconds, because at the same time you are attracted, but at the same time you are repelled by the sluggish, cynical indifference with massive awareness, the millennial principle of our time, since nothing changes, Existence can only seem more and more unbearable.

- A duel of spirits could not be easier, especially if the wise science of arguing is banned within radical frameworks by knowledgeable smart tonics, because they are truly terrified of the power of innovative creative thoughts and ideals. Your naive-childish, eternal Sisyphean worries and exploitability are now being played with by jerks and fools, while they splash pathetic, petty words at you halfway; be careful! It's not too late!

Don't Shed your viscerally restless life! Because you would like to reach there yourself in a worthy way, where joy and satisfaction await, and not the hustle and bustle of everyday robot work! And how good it would be there, arm in arm with your Beloved, to write the laws of the Universe in the sand!

#poetry #poem #free #verse #lyre #life #literature #social

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