I love you like amythyst
And you kiss me like Jade
Green eyes watching
In your Emerald shade
Look back through ruby eyes
A nostalgic rose haze
That what love meant to you
was like jewellery made
Who is the thief
That has taken your gold
You must have left open your window
Now all your love has been sold
Little Diamond, little gem
Stay with me
Be my friend
In the darkness of the night
See you sparkle
In the moon light
Like a star of the sky
Precious love until I die
Tuesday, 19 February 2019
Little Gem
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Love, and you will be loved
Love thy neighbour
Love thyself
In the harbours of great wealth
Wait until your ship comes in
Sailors loading up the quay
Barrels rolling, dogs run free
Love is timeless, love
Just a little bit of its enough
For me
Just enough, to laugh and joke
Like a breath in the smoke
Show me mercy fresh firefly
Leave me in the quiet of your peace
Show me wonders that will never cease
Green valley roll under foot
Mountain trail stroll
Twisted tree root
Give me back my soul
I need your proof
Love thyself
In the harbours of great wealth
Wait until your ship comes in
Sailors loading up the quay
Barrels rolling, dogs run free
Love is timeless, love
Just a little bit of its enough
For me
Just enough, to laugh and joke
Like a breath in the smoke
Show me mercy fresh firefly
Leave me in the quiet of your peace
Show me wonders that will never cease
Green valley roll under foot
Mountain trail stroll
Twisted tree root
Give me back my soul
I need your proof
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The museum fragments
With unlimited breath
They took off their vest
And strung up their articles there
That love and virtue on the breast
Should overcome fear and despair
Hate and Envy are trampled underfoot
Of the goatherd's or cherubim's boot
And the putty still sticks to the wall
As the faces that are pulled, appall
We all deny, we are ugly
To our reflections in the mirror
We are cute
The marble statues stretch into the hall
Where infinities images stand tall
All of human suffering is merely conditional
Based on the curator switching the lights
on at all
Are we just waves lapping at time's rock?
Or like the Berlin Wall
Just pieces the curator saves
Chips off the old block?
They took off their vest
And strung up their articles there
That love and virtue on the breast
Should overcome fear and despair
Hate and Envy are trampled underfoot
Of the goatherd's or cherubim's boot
And the putty still sticks to the wall
As the faces that are pulled, appall
We all deny, we are ugly
To our reflections in the mirror
We are cute
The marble statues stretch into the hall
Where infinities images stand tall
All of human suffering is merely conditional
Based on the curator switching the lights
on at all
Are we just waves lapping at time's rock?
Or like the Berlin Wall
Just pieces the curator saves
Chips off the old block?
Labels:
museums
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Thursday, 14 February 2019
Not my cuppa tea
Oh Hungarians when will you learn to drink tea?
It is not that it is an Englishman's right
Its just not the tea for me
I find it quite crass
To serve tea in a glass
And to leave it to steep in the water
The fact that I say
Should give much away
Like a father does so for his daughter
It is not that it is an Englishman's property
But I must confess
That we know the best
And you should not trespass
On its simplicity
First in goes the teabag
(if it must be made in a cup I might add)
Then add the water, at the point of boiling
Now wait for it to brew
Like an arrow it is true
If you rush in then you
Will experience more unpleasantness after
Once its reached a suitable hue
Like the feeling of amber
Or a Polynesian dew
It should be as much felt as seen
Then add the milk
No sooner no later
And certainly not before the tea bag
That is a sin as bad
As mixing up silk
With the skin of a gator
And gives the worse tea ever had
Follow these steps and be sure
Of a nice cuppa tea not a chore
But a pleasure, so be glad
Of this advice that you've had
So please follow it and do not ignore
It is not that it is an Englishman's right
Its just not the tea for me
I find it quite crass
To serve tea in a glass
And to leave it to steep in the water
The fact that I say
Should give much away
Like a father does so for his daughter
It is not that it is an Englishman's property
But I must confess
That we know the best
And you should not trespass
On its simplicity
First in goes the teabag
(if it must be made in a cup I might add)
Then add the water, at the point of boiling
Now wait for it to brew
Like an arrow it is true
If you rush in then you
Will experience more unpleasantness after
Once its reached a suitable hue
Like the feeling of amber
Or a Polynesian dew
It should be as much felt as seen
Then add the milk
No sooner no later
And certainly not before the tea bag
That is a sin as bad
As mixing up silk
With the skin of a gator
And gives the worse tea ever had
Follow these steps and be sure
Of a nice cuppa tea not a chore
But a pleasure, so be glad
Of this advice that you've had
So please follow it and do not ignore
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Wednesday, 13 February 2019
Bus Number 32
Béke Tér
Szegedi
Róbert Karoly ut Reitter ference, kiadoc
21 Nemzeti Dóhánybolt
Vágany ut
Amerikai ut Orvos elektronika kft
Drive in Kezimunka
Szent Laszlo ut Féher jeital
20.55 LPG Függöny, Megnyílt
GUMI
Sava, Dunlop, Goodyear
Polgar Automosó
Nicki Minaj Juce Wrld
Algoflex forte DJ Crossback
Idegenek Toto Cutogo
Bethseda CTS URS
Laptop Acacia Tree
King Hetek BIG KING _BKK
Kacsok Kassai tér
Zugló Atlantis Las Vegas Casino
Labour Trend Picar
Nagy Lájos Király utja Tejbolt
Orás Hazi tej Joghur Korona
SPAR MAV telep
Protbin Ingatlan hitel
Muszeresz szűrő bolt Posta
kerekgyártó ut
Gumiszerviz nyák tér
Hada vaszonkep Planet
Non-stop Deliketessen (closed for repair)
Lakasálmaidat Megvaosítani?
új rapid kölcsönnel
informacia Fagylatzó Jazmin
Erci Optika Divatház
Erci Optika Szuglo utca
CEG.....IT....com......Blikk
Szony Egressy tér
Zol ferex Professionalis DJ
Mezopotam Jeszenék János utca
Bórhal Parkolasi ugyfélszolgalat
Festek bolt Pongratz Gergely tér
sikeres jővo varital Aloe Thai Masszazs
Duna Hous Eladna Ingatlan Likispa
Bánki Donát utca
Gubacsi Határ ut number 3 tram
Budapest Metropolitan egyetem
Ors vezér tere M+H
Szegedi
Róbert Karoly ut Reitter ference, kiadoc
21 Nemzeti Dóhánybolt
Vágany ut
Amerikai ut Orvos elektronika kft
Drive in Kezimunka
Szent Laszlo ut Féher jeital
20.55 LPG Függöny, Megnyílt
GUMI
Sava, Dunlop, Goodyear
Polgar Automosó
Nicki Minaj Juce Wrld
Algoflex forte DJ Crossback
Idegenek Toto Cutogo
Bethseda CTS URS
Laptop Acacia Tree
King Hetek BIG KING _BKK
Kacsok Kassai tér
Zugló Atlantis Las Vegas Casino
Labour Trend Picar
Nagy Lájos Király utja Tejbolt
Orás Hazi tej Joghur Korona
SPAR MAV telep
Protbin Ingatlan hitel
Muszeresz szűrő bolt Posta
kerekgyártó ut
Gumiszerviz nyák tér
Hada vaszonkep Planet
Non-stop Deliketessen (closed for repair)
Lakasálmaidat Megvaosítani?
új rapid kölcsönnel
informacia Fagylatzó Jazmin
Erci Optika Divatház
Erci Optika Szuglo utca
CEG.....IT....com......Blikk
Szony Egressy tér
Zol ferex Professionalis DJ
Mezopotam Jeszenék János utca
Bórhal Parkolasi ugyfélszolgalat
Festek bolt Pongratz Gergely tér
sikeres jővo varital Aloe Thai Masszazs
Duna Hous Eladna Ingatlan Likispa
Bánki Donát utca
Gubacsi Határ ut number 3 tram
Budapest Metropolitan egyetem
Ors vezér tere M+H
Labels:
Budapest
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Sunday, 10 February 2019
Riding the tram
Riding the tram, choo, choo
Here I am
Running the rails again
Run, run Roman rails
Run through gullies and arches
Stones laid by men long ago
At the end of terrific marches
Run in the stinking light of dawn
Chock-a-blocked like chocolate shops
Cars and trains, cranes and cans
Being kicked, lowered, spilled and rammed
in traffic jams
In the Roman way
Kind of straight like the Danube
But running wheels ran
Like curly currents of the river
Or white gulls that scan
With their photographic memory of
Every fish they ever landed
Implanted like spies
In the minds of fishermen who stand
But never minded
Altogether elsewhere, the river strains
And the land extends its hand
Evidence of man
In castles and squares
Protesters meet and chant
Play blazing, strident revolutionary music
That shocks people, in amazement
They too stand and stare
At this band of loyal half-brothers
Blood brothers perhaps
Surrounded by a ring of cops
In another time it could have been
a folk dance, some dramatic scene
Displayed by actors frozen in character
But for the reality of visceral movements
Voices and chants of down with Orbán
Which Puts it squarely in Széll Kálmán Tér
The year two thousand and nineteen
Here I am
Running the rails again
Run, run Roman rails
Run through gullies and arches
Stones laid by men long ago
At the end of terrific marches
Run in the stinking light of dawn
Chock-a-blocked like chocolate shops
Cars and trains, cranes and cans
Being kicked, lowered, spilled and rammed
in traffic jams
In the Roman way
Kind of straight like the Danube
But running wheels ran
Like curly currents of the river
Or white gulls that scan
With their photographic memory of
Every fish they ever landed
Implanted like spies
In the minds of fishermen who stand
But never minded
Altogether elsewhere, the river strains
And the land extends its hand
Evidence of man
In castles and squares
Protesters meet and chant
Play blazing, strident revolutionary music
That shocks people, in amazement
They too stand and stare
At this band of loyal half-brothers
Blood brothers perhaps
Surrounded by a ring of cops
In another time it could have been
a folk dance, some dramatic scene
Displayed by actors frozen in character
But for the reality of visceral movements
Voices and chants of down with Orbán
Which Puts it squarely in Széll Kálmán Tér
The year two thousand and nineteen
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Bricks and Mortar
Bricks and mortar
Of the son and the daughter
Come tumbling, tumbling down
Then the lives in the water
Full of murder and slaughter
Of the man and woman in town
How now holy man, where is your crown?
In the pond where your children have drowned
And the stars and the stripes
Fall across the sky of black
And like scars across your back
they bring you down
And the crosses that you bear
Are caught in the cross hair
Of the snipers who shoot from the other side
And the stigmata on your palms
will not wash away the arms
That you sold to ensure your own pride
So be careful of the tide
That's been sleeping your bride
She's been married to the moon before
And the sea is her rich aunt
Who's grown her like a plant
in her arms, in her arms
Away from all her dreams
And the troubles that she's seen
Every time she killed someone
She liked
So forgive your brothers too
Who's been playing the deep blues
In the shadows of the clock tower
At night
Even leaving before midnight
Left the spoils to be bright
As a leaf is left on the ground to mould
Half of everything I've owned
Has been sold before I'm old
Twice as much as what I started with
If it seems a great idea
You'll be sorry to hear
That the love I felt was sold
At first sight
Going easy in the sale
Like a Chippendale
Like a wind that blows away a grey face
And leaves the walking dead
To be suffering instead
From the troubles of a life
Made in gold
Because we all were born so innocent
Of the forceful arms of incident
The systems, the memes and the tones
of government
That rule each individual hue
Is no different in the queue
Where they march into the fiery mold
To come out a human adult
Built to work suffer and submit
to the will of the government
When they are told
And they shall never know
Of the possibilities foretold in their stars
When they were born like any other
Of the pure and simple diatribe
The luxurious fireside
Or the lake or Lagoon
Where they could live away from busy strife
The machinations of Machiavellian wills
The dominance of others to love
Marry, steal or kill
To get their property man or wife
To own authority over others
Acquire meaning in their life
It all seems so antiquated
Like from birth to death
Everything is metric
And measured is every breath
and you must break free
And the stigmata on your palms
will not wash away the arms
That you sold to ensure your own pride
So be careful of the tide
That's been sleeping your bride
She's been married to the moon before
And the sea is her rich aunt
Who's grown her like a plant
in her arms, in her arms
Away from all her dreams
And the troubles that she's seen
Every time she killed someone
She liked
So forgive your brothers too
Who's been playing the deep blues
In the shadows of the clock tower
At night
Even leaving before midnight
Left the spoils to be bright
As a leaf is left on the ground to mould
Half of everything I've owned
Has been sold before I'm old
Twice as much as what I started with
If it seems a great idea
You'll be sorry to hear
That the love I felt was sold
At first sight
Going easy in the sale
Like a Chippendale
Like a wind that blows away a grey face
And leaves the walking dead
To be suffering instead
From the troubles of a life
Made in gold
Because we all were born so innocent
Of the forceful arms of incident
The systems, the memes and the tones
of government
That rule each individual hue
Is no different in the queue
Where they march into the fiery mold
To come out a human adult
Built to work suffer and submit
to the will of the government
When they are told
And they shall never know
Of the possibilities foretold in their stars
When they were born like any other
Of the pure and simple diatribe
The luxurious fireside
Or the lake or Lagoon
Where they could live away from busy strife
The machinations of Machiavellian wills
The dominance of others to love
Marry, steal or kill
To get their property man or wife
To own authority over others
Acquire meaning in their life
It all seems so antiquated
Like from birth to death
Everything is metric
And measured is every breath
and you must break free
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
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