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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • Poetry

    SLIM AMONG STRAIGHT SOULS

     

    In this world, the sobering, lying and false admonitions of the human head are heard, behind the windows you can still clearly see the alley-smelling, rat-gnawed, urine-smelling city of Nineveh, in which - sooner or later - everyone cheats, deceives or manipulates others for a career, for five-minute fame, for good-sounding Júdás money, and the dog doesn't really care anymore that he leaves unwashable dirt stains on his own soul.

    Those who have agreed now will rather break up the next day and immediately part ways, hunting for new chick meat, those who thought they had arrived, find shelter in the rush, will suddenly continue to stay, because they will soon realize that laurel wreaths here are only for the hard-working ass-lickers and sole-grabbers.

    - The 72-hour, slightly grumpy nurse suffering from insomnia - since one can rarely find a vein so sleepily - usually tries three more times on the patient before finally taking bloo...

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    The Wind

     

    The wind and the leaves

    It bends and it breathes

    Illuminating with sound

    Life and death, all around 

    ...

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    Touch

    Touch
    I want it so much
    Electric
    Ecstatic
    Attachment automatic

    As soon as it begins
    My head, it swirls, it swims
    Intimacy together
    Attached not tethered

    A hand to hold
    A leg to touch
    A hug, a kiss
    I long so much

    The soma
    The body
    My Nadis, not naughty
    It’s healthy, not snotty
    Even if she a shawty

    We are social creatures
    Not a bug, it’s a feature
    I’m not a leech or a lecher
    Touch is holy; I’m a preacher
    A reacher
    Let me lead her
    On a path under the bleachers

    A gentle caress
    More, not less
    I must confess
    I want to undress
    You from that sundress
    That is unless
    It causes duress

    Because at the end of the day, I just want to play
    To dance, to sway
    To lay in golden glimpses of ego ecli...

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    BUT !!

    Vodka doesn’t intoxicate me
    But your eyes does !


    Meditation doesn’t give me calmness
    But writing about you does !


    Running doesn’t rush my blood
    But your presence does !


    Nothing gives me butterflies
    But your smile does !


    Goals doesn’t inspire me anymore
    But your words does !


    Dopamine doesn’t flow in my blood
    But your thoughts does !


    Clouds doesn’t seem fluffier enough
    But your hair does !


    Moon doesn’t seem fair enough
    But your face does !


    My life doesn’t seem bright enough
    But your presence does !!

    #AMBLE ????

    ...

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    Racing without survival

     

    Everything starts all over again! Either the domestic pensioner salary riots, which are kept fresh and fixed, explode or take an ill-advised, new direction, or things that would be totally unacceptable in a normal, nonsense-grotesque society continue to take place with foreign assistance. A sudden mind-numbing darkness flows everywhere, and even the harmful, melting tar syrup floods the overcharged, wandering heads, stuck on the polluted garbage heap of cultures!

    The small objects, the unsaid destructive weed criticisms, the twice as much time promising many wealthy Eldorados, the sugar daddy still boldly extends his hand to the simpler people, lying about his help, and flatteringly, and after breaking one by one with his rare nails, the modern-day Robinson deliberately if you forget to wash your hands, the given amount will be taken back automatically with your help.

    Wretched, or rather wretched beasts, you see this and you understand that today...

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    AMATEUR, VILE FIGURE

     

    A person's time can be marked by public, recycled, service numbers, but the actual working hours are less so. Do the actual numbers ask what his health condition was like, constantly suffering from immunodeficiency, constantly falling ill from one place to another throughout his life? Why did his pretty-exotic bride leave him? And is the so-called Why didn't even family relatives want to support, coddle, or help of their own accord?!

    Why did the prices of basic foodstuffs have to be drastically increased every day according to their whims, but in such a way that everyone only squats for their own profit?! - It's an all-too-recurring question, but one that no one wants to answer anyway. An emergency call will soon arrive via mobile phone or online, as anyone who has a double heart attack should be prepared for everything and be careful, but the ambulance was still half an hour late and the life-saving heart massage and artificial ventilation did...

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    Christmas Poems by Michael R. Burch

    These are Christmas poems by Michael R. Burch. Some toward the bottom are darker Christmas poems and heretical Christmas poems. 
    
    The First Christmas
    by Michael R. Burch
    
    ’Twas in a land so long ago . . .
    the lambs lay blanketed in snow
    and little children everywhere
    sat and watched warm embers glow
    and dreamed (of what, we do not know).
    
    And THEN—a star appeared on high,
    The brightest man had ever seen!
    It made the children whisper low
    in puzzled awe (what did it mean?).
    It made the wooly lambkins cry.
    
    Not far away a new-born lay,
    warm-blanketed in straw and hay,
    a lowly manger for his crib.
    The cattle mooed, distraught and low,
    to see the child. They did not know
    
    it now was Christmas day!
    
    ***
    
    Christmas Wishes
    by Michael R. Burch
    
    My wish for you, with Christmas near,
    is troubles fleeing, fleet as deer,
    and peace encompassing as snow,
    bright merriment in brilliant flow.
    
    I wish for you, with Christ’s Eve here,
    a silver m...

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    FAULTY UNABLE BALANCE

     

    The arbitrary, benevolent lie is perhaps all self-explanatory if one opens not only the appropriate digital or audio-visual channels and stares in shock and shock at things that should never happen in the wider world. The imprecise ticking, intentionally falsified time calculation can only be felt viscerally, in our bones, painfully and painfully.

    The stone-age rules of embarrassing empathy-tolerance, or, if you prefer, blatant etiquette, seem to have been deliberately forgotten, even though it would be particularly useful for teenage mothers not to put their little ones in wastebaskets after they have become unnecessary. It's indecipherable, incidental, cacophonous noise, which everyone now considers more and more popular, and the given tabloid media profits from the provocative exhibitionist appearances of the Celeb party faces, who have been deliberately showing off the same torturously for twenty years, instead of printing something more meaningful...

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    A prediction about myself


     
    When my chewed-up bones will soon be laid before decomposing worms and beetles, will and blind luck will still flicker on top of the rich, undeserved booty, when they have already been buried.

    Even in the last hour, the beating pericardium rarely fades among layers of dust and ashes enclosed in urns. They will also voluntarily publish some of my pessimistic manuscripts as a hobby or for fun. Concise lines of verse wink, look at each other like accomplices.

    One final day, when I am paying attention to something other than the haunting consciousness of Death, the Pisces will easily cut off my shipwrecked fate, and I have no doubt that the three goddesses of fate will be sad to the core, when instead of words of admonition and warning, melancholic drums beat...

    It could have been a blessed folly, a mischievous childish joke only for those who definitely wanted to know him. But those who dared to open their hearts with an honest heart ...

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    ENTERTAINING MUSCLEMEN QUARTET

    With every ripple, a chest bound

    Harmony and rhythm coming together

    One flex in the melody

    Every muscle banding together

    Pose after pose

    The time to impress

    Music accompanied

    Bass with a base

    Musclemen who sing and doing their thing

    Bringing their muscles into swing

    Full blown

    Proving Musclemen are more than just fitness

    One just has to witness

    Dance is what rhythm is all about

    The movement in tempo

    One flex one more time

    The Quartet who are genuine

    They consider themselves the Musclemen Duo

    Entert...

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