Sybil Fawlty is Basil`s long-suffering wife,
becomes dazed and confused when he gets in all sorts of strife,
so when one of Basil `s hair brained schemes goes wrong,
it's Sybil who fixes, because she is the calm and sane one.
since Basil is such an horrible host
it is poor old Sybil, who suffers the most,
sardonic words she would inject,
on the man, she calls a stick insect
one day when she was away,
German guests, Basil caused such an affray,
and when one of the guests in the night, dies,
it was Sybil who had to fix all of Basil`s lies.
at the infamous Torquey hotel called Fawlty Towers,
Sybils and Basils life, the chaos simply devours
to the residents of the hotel who reside,
it`s Sybil who has to make good, whenever Basil is snide.
Another day,
Another death,
Another tear,
as I take another breath
Steady wondering if I'll be next
So much loss
only memories left
Each time hurts less & less
Disgusted with who I've become
almost out of self respect
Filthy & scarred up
sweat & dirt on my neck
Knowing Ima wind up alone
but what else can I expect
I'm fckng stressed!!!
Arms & hands just fckd
from all the drugs
I continue to inject
Ima fckng reject
I made myself this way
stay tryna disconnect
Got way too many memorial cards
I already had to collect
It's like my mind & soul
are so wrecked
Wish I could js relax & reflect
But my heart objects & stays unchecked
As I steady neglect & infect
my once pure soul
That now has this nonstop decaying hole
Everything feels so.. damn.. cold..
This fckng existence is so damn old
I don't know how to get a hold
And stop this chaotic painful misery
As it rapidly unfolds
Why am I so scared to be alone?
Already lost almost every single soul that was close
..I shoulda known
It was so clearly shown
I js couldnt get it thru my thick fckng dome
That this reality im in
Never was and never could be home
Like A Shower Of Rain
Dr Ranjit Dutta
While he inject me
A painful sting of sorrow
A reminder of memories that cling,
With every word,a wound revives,
Literally I cried without restraint,
As emotions overflowed in every way
A heart was heavy with sorrow
And the soul was swelling in pain
And tears fell like rain.
A reflection of pain
In his eyes too,
A shared shadow,
A bond that remains.
She injects again in my veins
A heavy dose of sorrow,
A weight that presses
A heart that she knows.
The memories linger,
A bitter taste,
A relationship shattered,
A heart in waste,
Your betrayal was a lesson
Learned too late,
A scar that remains,
A heart that waits
Tears fell like rain.
WOMEN ARE LIKE FLOWERS THAT DECORATE MEN'S LIVES AND BRING US HAPPINESS.
THEY COME IN BEAUTIFUL SHAPES AND SIZES, INTOXICATING SMELLS AND A VARIETY OF COLORS.
LIKE EVERY FLOWER, WOMEN NEED TO BE NURTURED AND SPOILED AND GIVEN THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF ATTENTION, BUT DO NOT OVERWATER THEM WITH JEALOUSY OR SMOTHER THEM BECAUSE JUST LIKE A FLOWER, A WOMAN WILL SUFFOCATE AND DROWN EMOTIONALLY.
SOME WOMEN HAVE BEEN MISTREATED EMOTIONALLY, PHYSICALLY, AND VERBALLY, AND THOSE ARE THE ONES THAT NEED SPECIAL ATTENTION.
JUST INJECT THAT TENDER LOVING CARE AND PATIENTLY WAIT, AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT YOUR FLOWER WILL BLOSSOM TO A BEAUTIFUL LOYAL GIRLFRIEND, WIFE, AND BEST FRIEND....
Written By: D. Collins 3/27/25
Find what comes easy and keep doing it.
Move it to the top of your to-do list.
Nourish it along with some passion and zest.
Before long, you might rate as one of the best.
Inject some soul into it and really cut loose.
Let your talent bling like some spit-shined boots.
Constantly polish that gift as if a priceless pearl.
Ready to unleash a masterpiece upon the world.
I’ve got a little change
rattling in me pockets.
Before I go, I do bequeath
A little wisdom from my keep.
So close now, I must bestow
There’s so little left of what I know
But what I knows is worth more than gold
Some lost treasure from deep below
Hold on, let me pull out this syringe
And suck out my soul, fill the tube,
Inject the world with a little spew
Of good gaudy divine truth
This man’s one last dying wish:
Know this ... The Dreamer never dies.
Change still rattles in me pockets,
a lot less pennies, a lot less rockets.
Inhabited pain,
Cannot be given to others;
It’s never transferable.
Self inflicted pain
Can only reside in self:-
It is yours to bear.
Residential pain
Is not beyond eviction:-
Inject peace and love.
Self-loneliness blinds—
You cannot hide from yourself:-
That shadow is you.
Ask, seek, and listen—
There is a knock at your door:-
God comes for the pain.
Pain is healed with love;
Where love is pain cannot be:-
Love one another.
Healing together—
One for all and all for one
Onederful onement.
Let's always praise God
For the trinity oneness
Of His supreme love:-
For some there always has to be an issue
A drama of some sort
Always looking for or creating a problem
To inject their voice and thoughts
Seeming to thrive on conflict
Inserting their need for power and control
Deriving pleasure from others discomfort
Relishing in other individuals anguish to feed their souls!
Written By: D. Collins 1/25/25
Create something beautiful while you're on this earth.
It will still be here when you're long, under the dirt.
Create a masterpiece molded from your own hands.
Inject the juice that extends your family Clan.
You take that seed and give it nothing but good.
Tell them the things you'd change, if you could.
Then, they go into life with some experience.
In knowing Daddy ain't taking no nonsense.
Create something good before you leave this earth.
Show the whole world your value and worth.
Give something back to show you were here.
Give them a Meika overdosed in high gear.
There’s too little in life to bestow boon,
So much pain to rob us the warmth of noon,
So, to inject some fun,
Warmth to winter’s dull sun,
To honour tradition
At a sub-way station,
Impart levity to one afternoon,
Let’s look pant-less silly--
All us, Tom and Billy.
__________________
Happenings|24.01.2025| humour, laughter, fun
Poet’s note: no trousers tube ride was first held in New York in 2002, and in London in 2009.
If you come back now
You will make my day
Dear Father
Because I am always
Worrying too much about me
My Father
I also worry about my health
Constantly
I want to improve my health
I still go for my shot of ozanpike
Every Friday morning
I inject the ozanpike on my tummy
I am slowly getting used to it
Also every month I take my shoot
Of abilify on my hip
The ozampike cuts my appetite and keeps
My weight down
Yes father I am so fat still
I am dying to lose weight
AND I know it is harder to lose weight
Yes Father I am sleeping fine every night
Also when I wake up I am always
Having the winter blues
I hate having the winter blues
Father please take the winter blues
Away from my life
Also I am happy that you keep me
Alive every single day
I have nothing to complained to you
About my life
Because everything is going ok in my life
Why do i sprawl out on my bed
comatose and almost dead
hoping for a miracle
that God is in my lead
my head
They inject a pencil in my vein
thinking i'm still insane
hoping for a miracle
that God is in my pain
my name
My covers wrap around my flesh
cocoon and desk
hoping for a miracle
that God is in this test
this mess
i sink into my head
i mean my bed
i mean my lead
hoping for a miracle
hoping God’s not dead
Teresa of Ávila
Dreamt the passion of God.
A physical fire
Burned an image of his power.
An image I envisioned was one so dull
Full of pain
A nightmare stabbing my mind's eye.
A frail image of my mother
Some quivering voice I remember
In my dimension of inception
That my mother was at her end.
A disruptive anxiety burdens a peace
But that day, it was at bay.
Paralysed by a hidden sight that I couldn't bear
Petrified by a dream, one that was so rare.
This despicable numbness I endure
Sympathises the fools of fiction.
As reality shapes its needle
To fill with its anaesthesia of truth
And inject into those who walk in wonder.
Today, I trudged through that trail
Of some twenty-fourth year
My Lucky Strike ablaze
And my hands on the balcony window.
Experiencing no sore throat
That I remembered from youth,
Only a deep sensation of numbed limbs
Suffering this cold spring night.
Even the cigarette wasn't fazed
Of the wind’s devouring passion
Blowing its burning ashes.
To visut Maui, would inject cash into local pockets
I hear many hotels, and other venues are untouched
By the fires? Just in the opposite side.' If i were able
I would go,knowing my contribution would go more
Likely where its needed.'? I an rushing off but thought
To post this in good will, for the people there, if I can
Do something? I cant thinj to rhyme this.' I know readers
Will understand, just a gesture from another human.'
The great artist
Picked up piece
And began to show
Explaining to the crowd
About
...driftwood
This is where
She saw TRUTH
...clearly
Look at the frayed end
Happened during
...revolt
See this
It's where TRUTH
Connected
She aligned
Then rejected
...responsibility
Drained of all life
Nowhere left
For LOVE to inject
THE WAY
...so she drifts
Tossed by every wind of doctrine
She is without hope
And her name is
DESPAIR
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-09-2023
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