Poem: Her is Outa-Linguistical

Her is Outa-Linguistical   I’m a fix-it linguist running a study To aim my darling With words like her: sweeter than honey. Chomsky’s infinite use of finite means is useless and means nothing; When I try to describe the virtue of my Queen’s. I collect utterance by utterance- Each is the most elegant- But to … Continue reading Poem: Her is Outa-Linguistical


Poem: A Rhymeless Gentleman

A Rhymeless gentleman The first morning beams of the shining giant's Chased my train and its hundred clients, Dying on their face a golden curiosity: Their beany questions might disdain Horace; What treasure is the day hiding for us? How we enslave ourselves to succeed? They might be the opiated words of the daylight While … Continue reading Poem: A Rhymeless Gentleman

Poem: Evening Pictures

  I just read some of my old Hungarian poems during a boring class, then I found an interesting one that I translated to English. I changed only a little bit of style and context since it has been at-least 10 years that I wrote the original one, but I still appreciate this work as … Continue reading Poem: Evening Pictures

Poem: An Exorseized Story

Today, I've got a free day Al-Hamdulillah, so I offered a little time to poemize my last night's nightmare... I've got a nightmare about some JINNS (demons) that was covered by a quite fuzzy and complex situation that I wanted to write a short story about; however, writing short story is so easy compared to … Continue reading Poem: An Exorseized Story

Poem: ​Observe, Believe, Overcome

​Observe, Believe, Overcome It surely happened with all ranks, To wait for a transport- Even with the men of means with Copters, drivers, seaports. We are all tested on our wait, How much is our patience- While waiting for busses, taxes, Standing on train stations. The secret of this waiting is Not a fruit a … Continue reading Poem: ​Observe, Believe, Overcome

Poem: Faux-rest

Faux Rest It happened on a creepy land, Canadian Prairies- A barren, forest, bungalow... Like fur-hunter series. Three lost Murican must stop there, Running out of black oil- Been middle of the only road, You'd face it or recoil? They did not want to leave the car, Checking the bungalow- Tho, none there, they thought … Continue reading Poem: Faux-rest

Poem: ​In Memory of a Ram

It's been a while I haven't posted poems here on the blog because I wrote short poems with pictures that is a new style on Instagram. That I didn't posted is not because I prefer more Instagram or something, but only that I was in a period of shorter poems that fitted well the picture-posting. Later, … Continue reading Poem: ​In Memory of a Ram