Never live in past tense,
Like I wish I knew.
Futuristic mind set
Like what I’m about to do.
Regrets are for the weak stomached,
Treat mistakes like what I learned from it.
Dumb dumbs love saying time is money.
When it’s lunch time I eat their money.
You must come from thin air money,
That I don’t care money.
I’m bout after the bell ring that’s their money.
Energy spent really means something
Worth every penny down to the blueberry muffin.
Y’all sick with it?
I’m the robitussin
Hello dear Papier Ma’che papoose.
Do you use paprika on your plums?
Babies do not talk, papoose thought.
This grandma must be all kinds of dumbs.
Voice is sound
Word
Bounds
No
Sound means dumbs
Today you twitter, then you tweet,
as though to make your lives complete,
by echoing thoughts of people you admire.
Anticipating that great twitter,
you clutch your phones to reconsider,
the text-ed words of wisdom you desire.
You twitters prattle thoughts absurd,
as tweeters follow in a herd,
of voyeuristic bids to be of note.
You tweet and twitter photographs.
You L O L, the twitting laugh,
amassing twit-wits, with the rights to gloat.
You Tweeter-Dumbs are text-ed astray,
rushing to twitter your lives away,
losing precious time you’ll come to rue.
As tweeted gems of rehashed glitter,
by willing twits, of useless twitter,
dissolve in a vast milieu, void of sinew.
Language of love speaks when no language does;
Utters words caged by the heart;
Express love to loved ones.
The language of truth and trust.
It can be percept by the blinds-
Perceive by the deaf and articulate by the dumbs.
The special language of His creatures:
Dwells in mother earth, dwells in human nature.
Nightmares will be the fear, hatred will be the hate,
But the ears bends down, the tail wags on-
When one understandingly speaks with love.
Sacred and profane love by Titian - 1514
Love divine
How it burns when it falls from the sky -
how it hurts when the water is done.
How it rains with the words half-denied,
When the world looks for fabulous suns.
How it aches when the feeling's away
from the roads that are fast and are clean.
How it roars when the lights are insane,
how they fatefully touch our skin.
How I pray for this love not to fade,
How I look for your eyes in the woods,
How we crave for emotional shade,
In each other we find our roots.
Profane love
When the touch dumbs us down -
when the shadows arise,
When in passion we drown,
when there's evil disguised.
When your kiss, black as night,
slowly turns on my key,
when your arms, full of might,
burn my fragility,
When we're fruitful and hot,
when we're lost in our dreams,
When we're tied with love's knots,
So profane we might seem.
06.05.2016
(c) Maryna Tchianova, Ukraine
Based on BBC news article "Maths zeroes in on perfect cup of coffee"
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-37989169
Two billion cups a day we drink
To stay awake so we can think
Tireless workers - every nation
Need a caffeine drink equation
Lattes, mochas, cappuccinos
Our calculator super heroes
Measured, reasoned, wrote a theorem
Clockwork system - mighty fearsome
Divide the beans and add hot water
Multiplies the bean aroma
Takes away the taste chaotic
Get this right - it's sums and logic
China cups the theory goes
Helps the smell go up you nose
Cardboard mug with plastic roof
Not as good, but where's the proof?
But their reason's most disjoint
Like whole numbers - has no point
You just need a rule of thumb
QED for us dumb-dumbs
(Entry for "wake up with coffee or tea" contest - shortened to meet rules)
Based on BBC news article "Maths zeroes in on perfect cup of coffee"
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-37989169
Two billion cups a day we drink
To stay awake so we can think
Tireless workers - every nation
Need a caffeine drink equation
Lattes, mochas, cappuccinos
Our calculator super heroes
Measured, reasoned, wrote a theorem
Clockwork system - mighty fearsome
No longer need barista instinct
Random variations extinct
Future bistros turn bizarre
Robots running coffee bars
Divide the beans and add hot water
Multiplies the bean aroma
Takes away the taste chaotic
Get this right - it's sums and logic
China cups the theory goes
Helps the smell go up you nose
Cardboard mug with plastic roof
Not as good, but where's the proof?
Coffee can't be served alone
You don't need maths - it's just well known
Donut, muffin you could try
Bagel, biscuit, slice of pi
But their reason's most disjoint
Like whole numbers - has no point
You just need a rule of thumb
QED for us dumb-dumbs
Love divine
How it burns when it falls from the sky -
how it hurts when the water is done.
How it rains with the words half-denied,
When the world looks for fabulous suns.
How it aches when the feeling's away
from the roads that are fast and are clean.
How it roars when the lights are insane,
how they fatefully touch our skin.
How I pray for this love not to fade,
How I look for your eyes in the woods,
How we crave for emotional shade,
In each other we find our roots.
Profane love
When the touch dumbs us down -
when the shadows arise,
When in passion we drown,
when there's evil disguised.
When your kiss, black as night,
slowly turns on my key,
when your arms, full of might,
burn my fragility,
When we're fruitful and hot,
when we're lost in our dreams,
When we're tied with love's knots,
So profane we might seem.
06.05.2016
(c) Maryna Tchianova, Ukraine
The hot summer,
Failed rain for months,
The land cracked,
Trees like bolded heads after falling leaves,
Birds fallen broken wings,
Waiting animals to die,
Today or tomorrow,
Children drank their cry,
Looking at the disappointed sky,mothers,
The village was not in the usual noise but like a land of dumbs,
A saint took all village men to an open ground,
To pray God seeking rain,
Some birds and animals to follow,
The son of the saint too walked along,
All marched like soldiers to the battle field,
"I had forgotten to bring my umbrella",
The son said to his father,saint,
The saint shocked but walked fast ignoring son,
All prayed God seeking rain,
It rained,rained and rained soon,
"It rained not because of the saint but his son who trusted God",
Someone came in someone's dream and told!
A type writer then a symbol of evolution,
A type of writing in all professions,
No pen open to ink solutions,
In One thumb link fashions,
The key board resolutions,
Make many types of solutions,
Crying,smiling types solutions,
Waring,peace types solutions,
Invading or existing types solutions,
In fighting for freedom,Mandela type solutions,
For good,for bad in black and white,solutions,
For Dumbs expressions forming via typing impressions,
Writers,pen found innovations,lap tops,writers innovations,
Writers now a type of no solutions,before folding top revolutions!
(In remembrance of Christopher Latham Sholes,the inventor)
THIS WOMAN I AM
WRITTEN BY NJIDEKA
IKERIONWU
This woman I am
Stops me at’imes
It crooks my cruises
And storms my sails
Cuts my journeys short
And cows my instincts
Shrinks my time at
library
It edits my vocabularies
Most times
It dumbs my mouth
And numbs my nerves
Subdues actions inside
me
Just to evade that
question
That shy’s and freezes
my actions
Don’t you know you are
woman?
Yet I want to come and
come back again
As the woman I am
Being under
Savouring the joys of
womanhood
Always happening
inside me
The sweetness of
receiving ends
Enjoying the sucks of
my babies
Cite me right in this
verse
A bit shy now
This woman I am
I am at it, again, but I don't know why the devil in me
should take such points as spelling and grammar as correctly being
so NOTICEABLY HIDDEN from my view.
After all, it's but a SMALL matter of GREAT importance to me
when I have to RECONSTITUTE the REMAINING REGULATIONS
REGALED by the WRITTEN word.
But the CRUEL CRUX is the CONTEMPTIBLE COAGULATION of
CREATIVITY that COINCIDES with the CONCENTRATION, CARE,
and CONCERN at their COMING.
WHILE WORDS WHISPER to me WITHOUT WARNING, their
INDIFFERENT IMPORTANCE IMPLIES that I am INTO INESCAPABLE
ISSUES with them.
EMPTY MOUTHFUL of words, I know...Yet I am OFTEN OVERWHELMED
WHEN WORDS WILLINGLY WROUGHT in thought are WOVEN into
a PAPER FABRIC.
How, silly of me to think that I should quit . I am just a dumbs _ _ t !!
For Charles Henderson's "Free As You Choose" Contest.
On the sidewalk, my eyes wander
till arrested by Noel.
So they have passed as tall phantoms.
So the rainbow blinds, burns, and dumbs.
So it will always be surrender.
I who have dwelt
in lone drives praying for God's thumb
must be patient with the devil.
Our ogles meet, at the bevel.