May you be guarded by Grace and wings made of light
beside a gentle prayer, filled with God's might !
May life be a journey of knowledge and pure delight
as you walk the path of love, may you be given sight
May your days be courageous lived out to the best
and if you get tired, give your heart some rest
May you be brave as a soldier in this life of gest
know you're being watched from an Angel's nest
May you be accepted and favored just as you are
reside in the knowledge that to God you're a star
May you trust in the One who holds the handlebar
if you ride towards Him, ... you'll surely go far
Like the Angels of heaven with wings made of light,
like Angels of the Lord who hold vigor in their flight.
.
i certainly have
this
spring
this
summer
theze seasons this year
thank You Lord
'tiz the hypothetical
thanx
for mine gest
uv
mine hat
'twuz the selfish
her cambers
i beg yourn indulge
'tiz the different
bow
.
I meant lisp
yeah I did
Anywho
whilst mine click
click
click'd
hiz trophiez
for the
script
'pon what my
once spoke in
gest ("laid mine head")
in hiz longhorn'd
haunt
hern purty
near bare
straddled locked
yup
mine
I meant
the marshmallow fluff
again
.
Their were hern
‘mongst known
mine
wrapped were
they
‘bout mine nervous
gest
i gasp’d
decorous mine
closing
(both)eyne
Such thuh touch
i’ve ever
never
know'd
*scop doth know; "their" from, there
*unto the astute; "their" think
ticklez
Fresh leaves fall gently on the ground
without making a sound
Piano keys softly caress
warmed by sunlight gest
Brushing my senses on this delicate afternoon
she plays on, as time just croons
I notice she has pinned her hair up just so
a touch of mascara
a light scented oil of " Je ne sais quoi "
a touch of blush real or not ?
Refreshments are served Victorian style
alongside persimmon leaves
and tangerine kisses for me
Inside this great big elegant room
of beauty and romance,
I know she is hoping for at least,
...a dance.
Through Garreg-Wen’s nomadic hearth, we grew
and waned like lichen’s stole on Moel-y-Gest.
Her lustrous tablet’s cleaved expanse possessed
our sacred streams. Where plasma sands, in lieu
of blood’s endured aspects – our angled view –
was figured, flawless: all we knew. North-West
Nirvana’s alien tongues recite the pest
of castle’s: tourist’s transient blight; so too,
ewe’s balk like doubtful dunes. Idyllic slants
in callow youth, discern, so seldom, tints
beyond the rosy realm of spectrum’s scant
surmise: stars, not blinkered by levant,
lost streetlights. Night’s insight may not imprint
the shape of time that teary-eyed stars grant.
Monsters should look like monsters....
But most don't.
I mean, some will actually
warn you that they're monsters,
But generally... most won't.
Instead... you see
People you like,
People you love,
People you trust.
People you have fun with.
People you lust.
And, that's why I firmly support,
Burning a BIG ASS M
onto their forehead.
One that never heals,
stays infected,
and maybe drips Green Puss.
Because ,
we need a better way to identify
these muhas.
A registration....
A muhin Monsters are Us....
& Let heartbroken mothers,
& traumatized kids decide,
who gets on the bus....
to ship these muhas,
to wherever the ,
monsters need to go.
Let the victims make those choices.
Give them a chance,
to exorcize their fear silenced voices.
It'll be a whole ass mess...
Because it's a whole lot of stress.
And, how it doesn't kill folks,
is anyone's guess.
And Psssstttt,
if you haven't been through it,
be a dear, and say less.
Go debate it with ya mammy,
Because, I'm standing by what I said.
Monsters should look like monsters.
Straight facts. No gest.
Well the Will of twenty twenty
Did not favour its kids gently.
Was the smirk in in that jerk's dying breath a gest left to make us unfriendly?
Or did it point at his suffocators, through pillows of plastic-made plenty?
Forget that loud death - there's quiet hordes
Bricked under this scene in front-room wards
Trapped, trialed, trickling up - put down by the order of the Always Of Lords
The mines that bind those poor prole's souls, extracting human oil like whale-ships boards.
Two and two's evils struck many by surprise
Some felt for necks, asked what's next, tried to open eyes
Saw cruelty crawl from Antique times, muffled in masks, found ways to rise
Saw profiteers who murdered years, bombs built below the pier in snake-sweat and lies
At the wake we'll say they died a crap uncle, and showed us good and sad.
The instant that first twenty waltzed in, it proclaimed itself to be mad.
always runs from the truth
can’t leave well enough alone
has no desire to build or create
does more harm with a lie than a knife or gun
never admits to having horns and a tail
filled to the brim with subtext
wants others to do the explaining
will stab you in gest
spends a lifetime trying to prove otherwise
finds it feeble to give an apology
will sleep with just about anything
will bury you for free
Stutter, wait, see, where it will go, when the season rows. Ah the political rot.
Stay, support, the whispering, forgotten few, those who have not.
Sorry, word none to amend, they are lost, vote not available, duress.
Rich man play, they will stay, these are those who we caress.
Thunder praising, morals remorse, the striking failure we adore.
Violent raising, majority ignored, the will of nothing, worshiping gore.
Come the weekly phase, daily unrest, casting fever, mental test.
Intelligent fading, hate the fest, this I say, will not forget, nor gest.
Avian life of mine
Blooms with wishes divine
Candle - one more added
Days with joy - so padded
Eid too joins the party
Full moon blesses us - hearty
Grandeur unveils autumn
Hard rock shows us green thumb
Iambic feet of three
Joins to form poetry
Kingly gest of season
Lets love play in vision
Moments lived with pleasure
Narrate hidden treasure
Opulent love from you
Plethora brought anew
(C) Anindya Mohan Tagore (Bobby)
There once was a
student named Gest.
Among all his
classmate,he's best.
He dumped all his
books
and followed all
cooks.
Which lastly he
failed much the rest.
They whisper among themselves
as dinner is served in the bright dining room,
and staring as if I were an unwanted gest,
" He is a Casanova so guiltless,
looking for married women like Elisabeth! "
I keep on eating and staying cool.
I would love to laugh, but a chuckle deliberately escapes
getting their attention, " Look...is chuckling as a brat, he
should go to the confessional and clear his conscience! "
Aunt Jenny mumbles to Lisa who stares at me strangely.
All through dinner, my aunt keeps on talking about my behavior...
even the walls can hear her voice making me blush with shame,
" When I call him to pick me up and take me to the doctor:
he always makes up excuses while silly Elisabeth tickles him! "
" If her crazy husband caught them in bed, he would knock all senses
out of him and imagine Elisabeth breaking them up?"
She exclaims dramatically by giving me a nasty look...
" And yes...my nephew will have a broken nose and two black eyes!"
.
May i kiss you softly
‘pon thine flesh
with aspiration
of condoning gest'
Pillow me
bed me
request from this soul
what force will cause
yourn agitation
I am your tenacious
yes
determined
tool
A Montague. A Capulet.
‘Twas at a masquerade they met.
Two strangers caught each other's eyes
as strains of love began to rise.
Upon a courtyard balcony,
amidst the angst of family,
‘twas there the pair professed love's need -
though Kismet's kiss would intercede.
Alas, the banes of passion bleed -
resolving gest through tragedy.
The foils of fate singed hot as coals
yet death would reunite their souls.
Two hearts in heaven overflow -
One Juliet. One Romeo.
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