3,956 Comments

  1. izzy-girl'7
    March 16, 02:20 Reply

    How dumb of me??????I forget to wish HAPPY HOLLI///////// HAPPY HOLLI to all here

  2. k@J@L
    March 16, 02:18 Reply

    No not from the begining from half

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 16, 02:21

      But u watch all the vickrant entry part?

  3. k@J@L
    March 16, 02:17 Reply

    what u r saying i couldnt understand

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 16, 02:19

      I said I want to introduce a game here on this page so we don’t get bored just like the one we play in JA pg

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 16, 02:16

      You watch pv2 form the beginning?

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 16, 02:15

      Wanna. Introduce. A game here more like a drama so u don’t get bored!!!!

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 16, 02:12

      Am also good : my net is a little bit slow that’s why late reply

  4. izzy-girl'7
    March 16, 02:00 Reply

    The Power of the Dog
    by Rudyard Kipling 
    There is sorrow enough in the natural way 
    From men and women to fill our day; 
    And when we are certain of sorrow in store, 
    Why do we always arrange for more? 
    Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware 
    Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. 
     
    Buy a pup and your money will buy 
    Love unflinching that cannot lie– 
    Perfect passion and worship fed 
    By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. 
    Nevertheless it is hardly fair 
    To risk your heart for a dog to tear. 
     
    When the fourteen years which Nature permits 
    Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits, 
    And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs 
    To lethal chambers or loaded guns, 
    Then you will find–it’s your own affair– 
    But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear. 
     
    When the body that lived at your single will, 
    With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!). 
    When the spirit that answered your every mood 
    Is gone–wherever it goes–for good, 
    You will discover how much you care, 
    And will give your heart to a dog to tear. 
     
    We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way, 
    When it comes to burying Christian clay. 
    Our loves are not given, but only lent, 
    At compound interest of cent per cent. 
    Though it is not always the case, I believe, 
    That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve: 
    For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, 
    A short-time loan is as bad as a long– 
    So why in–Heaven (before we are there) 
    Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

  5. izzy-girl
    March 15, 05:26 Reply

    Flowers of Rad

    by Sampson Starkweather  

     

    I want to write a poem as long as California 

    like lying on a couch forever 

    as a serious man takes notes on your dreams in a little book

    maybe I mean I want to talk forever 

    but is there even a difference anyway 

    like my uncle who went walking 

    and never stopped 

    or that day on the LA Freeway 

    when a horse got loose, people freaking out 

    cars honking and skidding 

    and me and my sister rooting for the horse 

    who I still imagine, 20 years later 

    trotting around the LA Freeway 

    a living argument against time 

    as people drive right past her 

    without even noticing a horse 

    she keeps on, at home in the gridlock 

    a phenomenon in the smog 

    we want to think she is looking for something 

    but she is past panic now 

    content, her heart a part of that freeway 

    unaware that I 

    am the one telling this story 

    and in this version 

    no one listens to anyone’s dreams 

    and that couch is the one we broke off on 

    while your parents were gone 

    blood on the cushion 

    which wouldn’t come out 

    no matter what we tried 

    so we gave up 

    and just laid there, sweating 

    in the bliss of thinking nothing 

    and somewhere 

    a startled horse 

    is not smashed by a semi 

    on the LA Freeway 

    on a summer day in 1988

  6. izzy-girl
    March 15, 05:24 Reply

    A Legacy

    by Prageeta Sharma  

     

    All this noisy commotion isolated a fairly 

    small universe of nothing special. 

    I had faced the assistant to the incumbent, 

    his failed face of poetry bottomless 

    with self-pride and a satisfaction that fed his wolf. 

    And he was a wolf 

    and when I scoffed at him 

    with some penetration I could see the clamor 

    of his wounds but also the vanity 

    in his recognitions. He believed I was undeserving 

    and thought it his right to judge, and his 

    judgment, a stun gun, took 

    my gender and race and euthanized 

    its center, and he thought this 

    was an extension of the occult, 

    that it was the intuition 

    of a bright star 

    affecting forward. 

    I wanted him to see this in a particular 

    light but the particular worsened into 

    a bruise of matter far more inhumane, 

    and I fell into its hole and he, with his glee, 

    had no idea, because his gender and race 

    gave him the privilege to look down 

    and see how my skeleton warped my will 

    but not the firmament of my broadness, 

    and what I know now as measuring across 

    power and enduring many luminary deficits 

    that come out of symptoms and their fallen edges.

  7. izzy-girl
    March 15, 05:23 Reply

    Making Apple Sauce with my Dead Grandmotherby Bianca Stone  
     
    I dig her up and plop her down in a wicker chair. 

    She’s going to make apple sauce and I’m going to get drunk.

    She’s cutting worms out of the small green apples from the back yard 

    and I’m opening up a bottle. It erects like a tower 

    in the city of my mouth. 

     

    The way she makes apple sauce it has ragged 

    strips of skin and spreads thickly over toast. 

    It’s infamous; eating it is as close to God as I’m going to get,

    but I don’t tell her. There’s a dishtowel wrapped around her head 

    to keep her jaw from falling slack– 

     

    Everything hurts. 

    But I don’t tell her that either. I have to stand at the callbox

    and see what words I can squeeze in. I’m getting worried. 

    If I dig her up and put her down in the wicker chair 

    I’d better be ready for the rest of the family 

     

    to make a fuss. I better bring her back right. 

    The whole house smells of cinnamon and dust. 

    We don’t speak. She’s piling the worms up in a bowl 

    and throwing them back into the yard.

      

  8. satu
    March 15, 05:02 Reply

    hmm u said cat and rat..i think we are more than that …think holiday is around the corner…do u think i was joking when i said am getting 10 packs

    • izzy-girl
      March 15, 05:13

      Idiot shouldn’t u be reading for exams instead of working on 10packs and I promise the day u get 10 packs I’ll move out of this planet(even ama doesn’t have 4packs talkless of a girl)

  9. rose
    March 14, 09:57 Reply

    so she comes n meets u ppl during holidays ???
    wt abt ur bro they r also in SA

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 12:58

      Yes she comes to visit on holidays only and my brothers are in uni outside the country so they also come on holidays::::

    • izzy-girl
      March 15, 01:29

      Good morning friends:::::::::::

  10. rose
    March 14, 09:43 Reply

    thts the typical siblings ;)( if we wont fi8 with them whom we will fi8 with )

    so whts the time there nw

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:46

      Yeah that’s how siblings are;;;; here its 3:26 pm

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:47

      I think she’s gone; she just said Hi and left

    • rose
      March 14, 09:56

      yup…. evn i think so

      so u ppl have similiar choices i mean does she also like writing like u

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:38

      No she’s my younger sis am just two years older than her

    • rose
      March 14, 09:41

      ooh…. nice so ur the eldest in ur house

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:42

      No I have two brothers older than me I’m the third

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:45

      Rose give me some minutes I’ll be right back!!! Quickly going for my lunch

  11. rose
    March 14, 09:28 Reply

    gr8
    but i said ri8 im completely out of this …. Although i read a lot

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:32

      There’s a saying which states “reading leads to good writings and listening leads to good speaking”. That is , if u read a lot then u must be very Good at writing maybe u haven’t just check ur ability yet

    • Satu
      March 14, 09:33

      Hey rose
      Hey sis!!

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:35

      @rose I called my sis to say hi to u and she’s here!!!

    • rose
      March 14, 09:38

      hey so thts ur sis gr8 so dont u both miss eachother i mean in house ( i didnt want 2 hurt feelings )

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:40

      We fight every seconds and make up in another seconds but now that we r not together we don’t really fight but we still do!!! Mom calls us cat and rat

  12. rose
    March 14, 09:07 Reply

    hey u dont hav 2 say plz we r frnds na 🙂

    evn in my name fatima is there
    i love reading …….. Art music and some serials 🙂

    • rose
      March 14, 09:09

      but i m 0 at writing so u love 2 write 🙂
      so any inspiration

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:11

      Yeah u r right! No thanks, good bye, and please in friendship!!!!!!!! U said ur name is fatimah too???? Wow that’s very nice! Seems like we have a lot of things alike

    • rose
      March 14, 09:15

      ya may be
      so u hav siblings

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:20

      Yes I love writing!!! And I’ve got a lot of inspiration dear just for u/////// writing is all about combining your experiences,feelings, either in a poetic way or in a story:::::: u have to feel before u write!!!!!!

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:27

      Yes I do have siblings!!! One of them come here on DTB her name aishat but username satu she’s in boarding school and I have two brothers too

  13. rose
    March 14, 08:56 Reply

    ok.. 🙂

    im jumi ( well thts wht ppl call me)
    in dubai
    sweet 16 🙂
    wbt u

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:01

      Well my real name is Fatimah! But friends call me fulaanty,fati,and zara too am 17yrs old ;;;;;am in Art class studying literature and I love writing poems and stories!!!!!! And I’ve been to dubai before to live with my sis !!! But am originally from SA

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:02

      And pls tell me what r your hobbies

    • rose
      March 14, 08:46

      hi ……..

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 08:50

      Hey rose 🙂 how r u?

    • rose
      March 14, 08:51

      m gud wbt u

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 08:52

      @rose I have u as a friend on my account/ right?

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 08:53

      Am also good dear! If u don’t mind can I get u little intro?

    • rose
      March 14, 08:55

      nope i just sent now

      so intro ( if u dont mind )

    • izzy-girl
      March 14, 09:03

      I’ve accept the request

  14. sanju
    March 14, 07:41 Reply

    izzy
    Just saw u r comm
    Little busy in work
    Now i am free
    Btw how r u???

    • izzy-girl'7
      March 14, 08:37

      Am great sanju::: what about u?

  15. k@J@L
    March 14, 02:30 Reply

    sanju di u remember me ok i also have to go bye tk see y soon

  16. sanju
    March 14, 02:26 Reply

    kajal
    Satu
    Mein teek hoon
    Aap kaise ho

    • Satu
      March 14, 02:32

      Am fine sanju bye am going @titli
      Bye kaj
      See u later

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