Each word separated from the other

removed from the greater part which gave it meaning,

the vowels waterboarded,

exclamations electrocuted.


The CAPITALS made to sit in corners

while comma's had their toe-nails pulled.

Question marks eradicated, 

full stops turned informer.


Phonic's disembodied to a hum

their transitions obliterated.

All died in lonesome silence

un-sentenced to oblivion.


Amnesia set them free

within a Shoah of language,

a Kristallnacht of words

the deaths head scream of intolerance raged.


Take a text, a sentence, a letter,

impregnate its potency with defiance,

release a million broken words

and hear their truth sing out.   





Asli Erdoğan. 






◄ Reflections on the reading of a will

Bury your head in the sand and get fucked in the arse ►


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Wolfgar Miere

Mon 21st Jan 2019 20:13

Thanks Stu,

The best compliment I've had in a long time, truly.


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Stu Buck

Mon 21st Jan 2019 12:46

love this david. its odd, like you.

the deaths head scream of intolerance raged

what a fantastic line

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Wolfgar Miere

Mon 21st Jan 2019 09:45

Thanks Martin much appreciated.

I was going to offer some of my thinking on this, but to be honest in the present self congratulatory delusional fever on this site I can't be fucking arsed.

So that's a relief.

Thanks though Martin.


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Martin Elder

Sun 20th Jan 2019 15:31

You take no prisoners so to speak with what you write, because you write what perhaps everybody else is afraid to speak
Nice one David

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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 20th Jan 2019 10:05

Thanks Rachel and Ray,

Although I probably should be locked up for what I write I doubt it would be for the same reasons as those brave souls.


Oh self deprecation, who'd have thought.

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Sun 20th Jan 2019 02:11

I won't attempt to be too precise, but your words sang this to me--


I feel like this could either represent the voice of the silent writer or the silence itself.

Intensely preoccupied in UTC+3,


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Sat 19th Jan 2019 17:30

Fantastic, too obscure for the casual reader, but full of tension and meaning for those leaving aside the water wings. Words it seems can serve many masters and be twisted , wrung out and have power to make changes in the mental environment. Torture is implicit in language, and in its baser techniques.
This poem serves a purpose and releases a silent scream - I hope others might take it on board.


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