A shop is just a shop
No matter the street it’s down
A streer is just a street
No matter where its town
Not the sort of place
I would choose for relaxation
I always regarded London as
Just a large railway station
The sort of place to which
I would reluctantly go
To assist me on my journeys
Catching trains to and fro
Give me a country lane with
Woods and fields to roam
Yes thats the type of place
I can happily call home.
Wandering through the woods
Listening to the trees
And soft birdsong drifting
On a warm pleasant breeze.
Yes London was a railway station
And no matter how hard I tried
It was just a means of getting me
Back to my Yorkshire countryside
Day and night
I keep the count right
Work and rest
Provide vigor and zest
The heart accepts the pure breeze
The mind thwarts the evil and freeze
The wonderful souls leave a lasting memory
They bring happiness, smiles and glory
I was directed towards the path unknown
Everything seemed puzzled,nothing clearly shown
It felt like a heart,so helpless
The feeling was so weird and breathless
Not a single word,left to utter
The heart shivered and shattered
It is a voice in my head
A voice by which,I am always led
With passing time, I do change
I follow the right,from a range...
I always try with the effort best
Though,at times I fail in test
I get inspired by birds flying high
Those regarded as kings of sky
I feel honored to hear my name
It's a grace,a regarded fame
It is the voice,in my head
A voice,by which,I am always led...
I know someone, who is always there
The sorrows and victories,I can ,no doubt share.
A bond so deep,strong and precious
One who is regarded, being gracious.
A true friend, a guide,a protector
Paves the path to success,being a rector.
One who encourages, is always ready to sacrifice
His love and affection is vast,never dies.
He is there to cheer up and listen
With my success, his eyes always glisten.
He his benevolent, provides endless guidance
He is empathetic, with inbuilt patience.
To have him,is a divine blessing
My heart beats ,forever to sing
He,who is a hero,a selfless being
He is my Father, for me, he is a King...
Colour of States Truth? By Abdul Haye Amin.
“As always nation act as blinds and deaf to spoil my days,
until where struggle in life and endless prosecutions and tears by,
all color of nationalities not to drive the States.
As I ever dreamed faked in this world of love,
day before Yesterday Those who regarded my enemy,
and neglected once for day of freedom of truth.
For not myself nor for this world but for,
my own cast and for my peoples,
the price of my pain ashes in my vain,
without surprise in Judgment in the Kingdom.
where impossible in nature colour of my vision of dream
as 'Nelson Mandela' at last revealed as,
'Bongo Bandhu' of Bangladesh in volume not in weight?
I therefore, nothing to be proud of myself today for,
my dear Lord on earth?”
By Bilingual's Author Abdul Haye Amin.
I'm a furry Aussie wombat
I'd like to ask you for a date
And if it all works out
you could become my best mate
Together we'd go bush
where we'd scratch a little furrow
The start of a conjugal home
we could extend and build a mighty burrow
We could feed upon the Aussie native grass
to that menu add some leaves and roots and moss
And if we become a couple
I'd always let you be the boss
I'm regarded as a cuddly kind of chap
who knows we might eventually elope
I would send you birthday cards
communicate by post, in a brightly, coloured envelope
SENSE OF IDENTITY-:-
exceptionally
strong
numbers
widely
regarded
in a AURA OF GENIUS
high-flown
linear
idioms
inspire
rhetoric
UNITED BY A STIMULATED
active
sensed
activity
eagerly
seized
Walking down the aisle was the dream with you, but it was all an illusion.
You left me with a poor excuse that caused my heart to bleed.
Drained of blood it became a dry slab of concrete.
We were already to begin the next step in the journey.
You lied when you said that we were each other’s Destiny.
Each person that came near me was a cause for you to be jealous.
That was your problem as I only had eyes on you.
I regarded them as relatives, two of them became my sisters when you voiced your moments of PP depression onto me.
You claimed that you had no help as you were surviving.
Now you claim that you are without a partner and have no money.
SO, why did you break away.
If it were the destiny for each one then you would have stated something different.
You are a liar that has not come to realize that the man for you was becoming the man you needed.
Goodbye Bell from the East, my heart resigns from you.
Two years ago,I was encouraged by some friends
and also by my wife
To write some memoirs,
some description of events in my life
Two hundred hand written pages
in two years, since this project began
Since self discovery that I was capable of writing verse,
for six months the memoirs have sat idle, I compile poetry as quickly as I can
With this new poetic skill I am still able,
to record the aims of the memoirs, but in a precised form
Poetry I feel, provides a non confrontational platform,
when one wants to present controversial opinions, that deviate from the norm
I am regarded as an elder and I hope the definition,
includes wisdom not just age, I still wish to remain open and continue to learn
In the hope I am able to assist others
an objective, I never will adjourn
When an apex predator behaves unnaturally
The balance of power becomes upsetting
The scale is not just immeasurable
It's behaving dysfunctionally
Reason is cast aside
When sides are paramount
Differences mounting to the sky
Becoming mountainous, unassailable
Forgetting we rose from the ooze
We didn't choose what was discarded
But it was nature made that choice for us
And not something lightly regarded
The borders crossed were nature's own
And no one owned what was provided
No one claimed as theirs alone
What only nature has decided
What's unbecoming to presume
Has become our nature to resume
Some think that challenging is treason
And choosing sides is tantamount to reason
Ignoring what has led us here
In willful ignorance compounded
Compounding what leads only to fear
And thoughts of our ascent unfounded
Soccer
In my childhood, we played football like other sports
But we didn't think much about it
But suddenly, as it appeared to me, the sport became
a craze with fanatical fans arguing about which
The team had the best goalkeeper or striker
The heart of soccer came from England; we knew
the names of the famous teams and the interviews
in a sports magazine about their life
That was about the time when I would rather read
a book, but to see frenzied fans going mad when their
team lost
I'm not against football, but it is essentially a sport
that has its beginning in the working class, and still
has its aura
It is a place where people with scant education can
become rich and feted for scoring goals
for the soccer stars, now an instrument for big
business, the prize is high, but many spend their
money buying an expensive car that shows the status
being recognized and written about
Although my interest in the sport- can we call it sport
I do take an interest when a tall Norwegian scores
goals and is regarded as famous.
I woke up 6, no one messaged me
No expectations from friends sets me free
No keeping up on social media
No chance of catching clyamidia
No one to meet out
No need to talk and shout
I don’t need to be seen
I like my quiet routine
I don’t need to be heard
Quiet time is what’s preferred
I don’t need people to let me down
I’m fine even when I frown
I don’t need people talking behind my back
I’d rather have a quiet life and take no flack
I don’t need to feel needed or wanted
Bonded or regarded
I’ll stare at these four walls again
Go out every now and then
My home is my safe space
Where I don’t need decorum or grace
I live a quiet life with those who matter
I’m happy watching the outside world scatter
Once trust is eroded it can’t be replaced
That led me to being misplaced
I keep the cards close to my chest
Carefully choose those in invest
The list is not long
I know where my belongs
At home where I am a bore
Easy to ignore
A Guardian interview
In the Guardian this morning
A man, who is also rich, has written a book
about women and relationships
Apparently, he is a psychologist as well
The man is wildly successful, the paper
reserved several pages to sing his praise
It tells us that women love successful men
That leaves out 95% of men who are not
successful, but do get married to women
who love them
Galloway is his name, but he is not our
George, his book is aimed at a class of people
that has yet to discover the real world
His book is also anti-feminist, as women are
regarded as a price to those who are
economically success full
To whom it may concern
What I regarded as my best work
a selection of poems and written words
The title is "intense memories"
sent to a publisher that, after a week
said they would like to print my book
As the world stands for an unknown writer
I paid 400 euros for them to publish
Then came the long silences broken
with a request for more money, which
I ignored with a sigh of resignation
Our non-communication is growing
louder and deadly silent
I have reread my work, and it makes me
despair to tears that I'm not able to find
a proper publisher, but have to rely on
The third-rate publishers who are not
interested in literature per se, but a way
to make money from those who believe
They have a gift, a talent to share
Today is the saddest day in my life. I ask
What's the point of living when the wall
is unclimbable, when disappearing is
a welcoming option, because I'm losing
the belief that I matter.
That they were right all along, but they
felt sorry for me and wrote kind words
that in the end felled me like a rotten
tree in a green forest of the talented
Sky talk
The massive intellect of the universe
have thought that it is no longer cost-effective to
human on planet earth
The problem is how to save other non-human life
plants, trees, and flowers
Careful before one continues lest it thinks useful
born without a sense of humor, regarded fun-time
as an extension of work
What is needed to save the world's plant life is
to find a person magnifically stupid, who is silent
and delay any sensible reaction.
Enter, the Peacemaker
A man of such foibles as admitting to failure will
lead humanity so quickly to a fall that there shall
There's no asking, oh dear, what happened
Smoothly, the voice of the alter intellect said
Tucker Carlson is packing, and his readers sighed
The rumors were true
Sky talk
The massive intellect of the universe
have thought that it is no longer cost-effective to
human on planet earth
The problem is how to save other non-human life
plants, trees, and flowers
Careful before one continues lest it thinks useful
born without a sense of humor, regarded fun-time
as an extension of work
What is needed to save the world's plant life is
to find a person magnifically stupid, who is silent
and delay any sensible reaction.
Enter, the Peacemaker
A man of such foibles as admitting to failure will
lead humanity so quickly to a fall that there shall
There's no asking, oh dear, what happened
Smoothly, the voice of the alter intellect said
Tucker Carlson is packing, and his readers sighed
The rumors were true
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