Kids
One day
Dad said:
I’ ear yuh tekkin’ int kids.
I Am
I said:
‘tekkin’ int kids’
Dad said :
Thar’s a good thing ta do
Is tekkin’ int kids.
I said: If you only knew what it
means to ‘tek int kids’
OH?! Dad said:
Gimme an example.
Well, I said:
This one kid.
He wet the bed and stacked dirty
plates high on shelves and he
wouldn’t let anyone into his room.
He said:
I’m only waiting til I’m old enough to get a place at the YMCA.
The manageress says she will save me a place.
Some kids are angry. Some kids are sad.
Some kids are hurting and waiting to find a place.
After six months I thought it was time
to open the door to his locked room.
The bed was wet. Plates stacked high on shelves
It stank and I wondered how he kept himself clean.
Turned out he went home. Each day.
For a deep bath, a meal and to watch TV.
While he waited until he turned eighteen
To take up the place that the manageress kept.
His place. A place. At the YMCA.
I walk...
into
d a w n;
d r i f t i n g above me
are marshmallow clouds
in a cyan-blue sky
smiling down at me...
is a crescent moon
tweeting to me from a tree
an early bird...
Good morning to you, too!
I walk back in...
my wife's busy brewing joe,
a mouth-watering morning staple!
waiting for a hug
my toddler, Izzy
looking so happy...
to see "DaDa" back!
I would code for you, though I could not. Being not someone int this field would not stop me.
Know the Truth.js
// Function: World Would Wanna Be You
function requestForever() {
// You always bite the same apple that destroys you
// You would say you look displeasing; do not be Emma Watson.
return false; // Returns false because "looking displeasing" is not true.
}
Access All-Against-Us.js
// Class: Manifesting me and you
const us = new Promise((resolve, reject) => {
// Let the promises be broken by the wind.
// But not the promise that everything would ever be resolved;
// it would be us over things, us against the things.
if (together) {
resolve("Through all, it will be us");
}
});
Access Possession and Love.js
// Object: Possession and Love
const reality = {
heart: "Yours",
soul: "Mine",
// I promise it will all be us.
// Your beauty, my gentle love, and whatever you need;
// a kiss and a hug will be here.
};
export default reality;
All I was had vanished
Earased by God himself, as if I was never blessed
His gaze as harsh as arrows slit my thoat int two
Forever, I am cursed by God
To be imprisoned within my soul
My flesh turned againts me, suffocating me with my own hoarse weeps
My heart beats with wind, sweat soaking me
Finger nails get soaked in blood, not my own but Gods
His gaze as empty as heaven
My honor vanished, destroyed, humiliated I fell down from heaven
where I didn't belong
Where no one goes, I lie and weep with every cry becoming silent
Till my vocal cords are too weak to keep me crying
Till my face hurts too much to frown
Till my father God kills me with an arrow in my spine
What will it take you make you learn
There are bridges you don't burn
Some things you just shouldn't be
Messing with or you will see
How it comes back haunting you
You should really think it through
Before the trouble you are stirring
Gets somebody's anger whirring
Smack dab right int your direction
Heed my warning and suggestion
There are times you walk away
Turn around and do not stay
Where you cause so much disaster
Inside you are full of laughter
But there's no joke a while after
The bridges you burned will soon fall
From the fire you install
As the flames of hurtful heartache
Start burning higher as they take
Everyone around you in
A fiery tale-spin
That will end up in hot ember
And these ashes you'll remember
As they leave a burning scar
Of a joke you took to far
In the world of introverts and extroverts, she is unknown
She adapts herself with the person she attaches to
Is this a real place for her to be grown
Or just a mere illusion, still to be known.
Is being an introvert glorified to know the inner-self
Or an extrovert connects to the world nicely
But what if she doesn't know who she is herself
Writing this poetry to express her feelings precisely.
Be thou wet and seasoned,
for we are richly mulled
int the wine of quiet passions.
Catch my breath
in your hungry mouth,
bleed into my veins
as purple as wine.
I want you under and over
my wanting hand,
like a white dove
fluttering
with featherlight desires,
those needs
of the eternal flame
that will not
depart
my beating,
or un-beating heart,
nor ever wither.
Agonizing hours blend int days,
Morning, noon, and night;
Trivial things, mere details,
Who spends time thinking about
What means nothing to you?
Poisonous clouds infect the air,
Invading and corroding every
Nearby surface, leaving no mistake
Of poisons that come in waves,
Through tunnels and into dark caverns
Stabbing the brain with a bitter, twisted knife.
Through adjustable chambers that
Penetrate and deliver their unholy burden,
Waves of agony and ecstasy burst forth
Drawing another sheep into the fold.
Through turbulent and raging winds,
Passed through beads of glass,
Shrouds of tender death
Freezing all life it meets into dust.
Two shades left of alive
With one foot in the grave
Staggering up and over again
To keep the fire burning still.
A mind encased by fetters,
A body crippled and broken
Keeping the wheel spinning
Without ever slowing down.
Never can dreaded oppressive oblivion
Order the blotting out of parents’ legacy poured into
Soul and heart of mine with memories so precious
Testifying faithful fellowship, forever triumphant
Affirming love, affectionately prevalent amidst nostalgia
Lingering in family bonds, beyond the temporal
Glowing against departure toward eternity --- bringing
Influence upon goodness’ impact, smiting “missing you” ennui
Cheering by God’s grace* along home-sweet-home lyric.
*Psalm 84:11 For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.
December 3, 2020
3rd place, "ANY NEW ACROSTIC ABOUT NOSTALGIA" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 1/9/2021.
I saw you across the room
You were with my best friend
Dancing to a slow song -Harvest Moon
You held her tightly in your arms
Then planted a passionate kiss
Oh Its My Party and i will cry if I want to
Cry if I want to and I did
I was deeply hurt and shocked
If You Could Read My Mind
You would know my hurtful thoughts
Oh my heart aches so badly
So your friend came up to me
He spoke calmly softly
He called me Blue Angel
Said he would never leave me
Feelings he had for me was strongBlue Bayyou
Strong feelings for me
He said "Together we would go
to the BlueBayou where the
sailboats go a float int Blue Bayou
I
come all through
year
before the
dawn
sun rising
this is path
for the remembrance
with flowers
they all died for us,
mother tongue
for country peoples
I'm independent
today none can force to speak
in another tongue
this small flower oblation
from me for honor
though they did great for us all
from that nineteen fifty two
the Shahid Minar standing in heart
with revered love for martyr
to remind value of mother tongue
Twenty First February
comes as the Int. Mother Language Day
-February 20,2020 Chattogram
****
note
The idea to celebrate International Mother Language Day was the initiative of Bangladesh. In Bangladesh 21 February is the anniversary of the day when Bangladeshis fought for recognition for the Bangla language
Syllabic Form as below-
1+3+1
3+1+3
3+5+3
5+3+5
5+7+5
7+5+7
7+9+7
9+7+9
Holds
Each love
Anchored with
Reflections years
Tint
Sweet
Port keeps
All those loved
Cherished 'till time
Ends
... CayCay
March 17, 2019
can you hear
the silence int he noise
it beckons for me too come
it screams my name
just as i screams its
Noise
the savor of my sorrow
the sustenance of my spirit
the world is filled with noise
it overflows and yet i starve
i lay in the dark
the abyss of my inner thoughts
i drown myslef the Noise
Bands scream into my head
yet i still can hear the silence
my thoughts and i still suffer
once the Bands stop
my tears start again
the silence in the noise
the only shelter i have left
silence in the noise
that is what saves me the best
If I were t' build missen a cottage
Ad build it i' Yorkshire stooan
Ad chuyse it cos it's best thaa c'n get
betta building blocks, ther is nooan.
If I ad t' carve missen an epitaph
t' let fowk knooa who ad bin
Ad crave I Yorkshire stooan, hi,
Cos' an alternative ad be a sin.
If I wa t' delve inta me past
T' see what ad made an impression
it's likely ad fynd Yorkshire stooan top o t' list
An ad mchuyse it wi'art concession.
Wetha showin' as nature intended
at 'Ardcastle crag or int' ills
Or in t' quaary, waitin fot' delver
or blackened bi t' istory and t' mills.
Yorkshire stooan is our Yorkshire 'ome
Weeriva this gran grit is laid
Ivvery block is t' sooal of a Yorkshireman
Ivvery block is t' istort made.
What will it take you make you learn
There are bridges you don't burn
Some things you just shouldn't be
Messing with or you will see
How it comes back haunting you
You should really think it through
Before the trouble you are stirring
Gets somebody's anger whirring
Smack dab right int your direction
Heed my warning and suggestion
There are times you walk away
Turn around and do not stay
Where you cause so much disaster
Inside you are full of laughter
But there's no joke a while after
The bridges you burned will soon fall
From the fire you install
As the flames of hurtful heartache
Start burning higher as they take
Everyone around you in
A fiery tale-spin
That will end up in hot ember
And these ashes you'll remember
As they leave a burning scar
Of a joke you took to far
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