How should I be a mother

A Merlot bottle in one hand—
A baby in another
With wine I seek to comprehend:
How should I be a mother?

I didn’t study for this job
Have no qualification
And yet one day this fatty blob
Squirmed out in elation

A smoke to calm the poor child
Seems like a good idea
A puzzle game left it beguiled—
I bought it from IKEA

What make-up do all babies use?
Do they like leek or radish?
I’d ask my toddler what it’d choose
But I fear it speaks Spanish

And when they grow up—oh my god!
They end up like their parent
I guess that since I am so odd
My failure is inherent

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The Dark Side of the Rainbow

I walked across the street at night
And heavy was the rain
The distant sounds of motor cars
The whistle of a train…
Some phosphorous illuminance
Behind me made the rain glow
I turned around and then I saw
The dark side of the rainbow

And as it ghastly shone on me
With its inverted colours
I was prepared to believe
In its outlandish powers
The different hues of darkish pink
Engendered foul temptations
Subdued me with their purple ink
And brought me weird sensations

The Wobniar, I called its name
And it responded gently
“Now, do not be afraid, my child
Embrace, do not resent me”
Aghast, I escaped the fiery sight
And woke to a great wonder
A lightning rolled across the sky;
The clouds had split asunder

I opened haltingly my eyes
And there, in all her beauty—
The rainbow, how I once her knew
Now all dressed up for duty
So courteous, graceful, yet aloof;
Her colours safe and frequent
The gloomy pigments undisclosed
Were to remain our secret

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Original photo by Alan Heardman.

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My hobby

I kill people for fun
What else is there to say
Everybody has hobbies
So why not this one?
If you ask me why I do it
There is no real reason

Many killers get caught
Go to prison
Behind, they leave trails
They all have something
For what they have fought
But I, I have nothing
No agenda, no feelings
That restrain or restrict me
Or expose or reveal me
No desire to be found
Or attain recognition

Lately, I have been worried
About my mental health
So I went to a therapy session
I have a job I don’t like
And I do not need wealth
So maybe one day
I’ll turn my hobby
Into profession

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IN

Drinking sinners grin in casinos
Adrenaline brings addicting El Niños
Blinding lines, fine shining things
Swindle fine mannequins in strings
Bingers find coins in thin trickling fountains
Promising winnings indicate mountains
Intelligent beings mingling sincerely
Intimate pinnacles drain finances finally

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Sorry

How much I want you to just say “sorry”
More than anything in the entire world
No explanations, no deceptions
Just “sorry”, and not another word.

No new solutions to the matters
No outcomes you had preferred
No tales of outlandish nature
Just “sorry”, and not another word.

Down with your silly little squabbles
Down with the insults that you blurred
Down with your love towards yours truly
Just “sorry”, and not another word.

Forget the alibis at your disposal
All the mistakes that had occurred
All the unfair accusations—
Say “sorry”, and not another word.

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Magic bus

I went inside a magic bus
And sat down on a lily
The fragrance was so luscious but
The seat was somewhat chilly
My mind was filled with daffodils
And I felt somewhat silly
For there amidst the petals rose
I met a man named Billy

He looked at me and I at him
He offered me a smile
His words smelt like a baby’s breath
We chatted for a while
He urged me to forget him not
And spoke with such great guile
That I could swear on bergamot
That this man had a style

But then the bluebells faded out
And Billy disappeared
My buttercup turned to a corpse
And that’s what I most feared
Yet bees were buzzing in the crowd
And all the birds still cheered
So I stepped out the magic bus
Before it got too weird

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Eternal Love

You were so nice to me
And made me tea
You smiled brightly
And I felt so free
You loved me
Ah! and I loved thee

And to preserve this fact
A touch of fine white powder
Escaped my fingers
And dissolved, much like some sugar
Into the Holy Grail
Which I then pressed against my lips
And kissed

And as the poison dire
Lit my all veins on fire
And by the colour of my eyes
You had begun to realise
I was about to die
The rumpled agony on your face
Pure disbelief and panic, dread
Brought me the deepest pleasure
In my latest moments

You loved me
Ah! and I loved thee
May our love last
Eternally

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Suzanne

A gentle moan escapes her lips
Her eyes fixated as she moves her hips
A penis stares right back at her
It makes her fingers reach for more
And deeper still, as he plunges his cock
Into a wet, warm pussy. In a shock
Her body wiggles, squirms and falls
The image of his cum-filled balls
Engulfs her brain. Suzanne is forced
To leave behind a murky stain

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Celebration

Warm and cold currents, clashing together
Resulting in bursts of thunderous weather
A large crowd of people looks up in elation
Men and women alike shout out in ovation
The time has arrived for the grand celebration

Ten lightning bolts strike deep into Earth
Ten ancient gods venerating her birth
Ten giant stars shining bright during day
Ten pious monks kneeling down to pray
Ten different tongues form a vivid bouquet

Arise! the grand forces of nature—and rant!
Hear the priests and accept their chant!
Fill our breasts with great joy and with mirth!
Ravish our minds, let us prove our worth
to our beautiful Mother, whom we, children, girth.

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It also may or may not be addressed to
celebrate the 300 likes on Facebook.

Thank you, everyone!

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The writing on the wall

Have you seen the writing on the wall?

It doesn’t tell about the people who must suffer
It’s not a story of a broken-hearted lover
It doesn’t portray hate against the government
It doesn’t spark debate on unemployment
It wasn’t scrawled down by a soul that wrings in agony
Nor by a woman fighting hard against misogyny

Have you seen the writing on the wall?
It’s just a scribble by a 12-year-old.

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