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Zubyre Parvez
Zubyre Parvez London / United Kingdom, Male, 36
Profession :
Waiter
Education :
English Literature degree BA (hons)
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1/16/2010 4:16:00 PM
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Zubyre Parvez's last comments on poems and poets

  • POEM: Am I Not Happy? ! ? .... by Elena Sandu (7/28/2011 9:20:00 AM)

    interesting meditation on time, with other aspects

  • POEM: And Pushkin's Exile Had Begun Right Here by Anna Akhmatova (7/20/2011 5:15:00 PM)

    I studied akhmatova, that tragic heroine from russia
    Her face appears again in her smaller cells like those dolls within dolls, we are everywhere, a white witch, perfect image of a woman and of womanhood, her books printed over and over with her image every word bears her signature recording the stalinist terrors followed on foot everywhere she went for a time the steps providing rhythms to air metred poetry
    She went the whole length
    Today russias communism finds itself in china, it is a red dragon persecutory in nature persecuting falun gong qigong arts and our nature of truthfulness compassion and tolerance.

    Stalin: The power lust of megalomania goes outwards etherically, seeking the reverence of others through terror and influence. But it eventually peters out returning back from whence it came. As it returns, it carries back the fear that it crossed on its outward journey. That is experienced as paranoia by the megalomaniac, who often imagines threats that aren’t there––spooks under the bed. Stalin was the classic example; he exterminated almost all of those close to him as traitors for the slightest infringement or the questioning of his absolute power. (Stuart Wilde)

  • POEM: Is There Love? by Rylie Shoop (7/20/2011 4:55:00 PM)

    Jacket zipped up like a guitar case
    Her neck like the length of the fretboard
    There's a hole in her soul
    As her screaming electric neurones
    Buzz like an amp
    Chaos rebel, Kali anger
    Peptides deform the cells and the water's information
    Inside of her
    Her hair is spiked up like spires toward
    God
    Her moods
    Swing like a metronome
    She sculptures her rock
    worn by the sea of life

    On her delicate mattress she's got some sheet music though
    As we rock as if a storm of an argument had broken out..

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