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Willoughby Aug 2018
I'd love to peer into that brain of yours and see the actual mechanics of your thinking.  Where those creative juices of yours throb and pulse. Ya, I'll drink to that.

   Maybe use one of them scopes to explore the left ventricle of your heart (you know, that chamber of the Heart that pumps blood through the aorta).  Figure out that sensitive heart of yours.

   Explore the rubber consistency of the lining of your lungs. With that heaving chest and ******* of yours, those lungs must be so healthy in their pinkish hue.   Just some barstool thoughts while waiting for closing time.

   Staring into this shot glass in front of me, my memory harkens back to the time you cut your arm and I ****** the blood from it, so salty and all.  I want to bottle you up in a liquid formula or capsulize your essence in a unique pill form where I can digest and absorb you and grow new cells from the energy I receive from the calories of your precious body.

   Maybe with the power of your bodies flesh I can grow a sixth toe, develop a third eye, build an *****.  I love you so much I could eat you up!

   Barkeep says this is last call so I better drink up and be on my way.  I wonder what your left ventricle really looks like under close inspection?  
   Just wondering, do you have any x-rays of your body I could have?
                                             See ya,   Creepy  Ray Ray
Willoughby  NEWSLETTER:   Coming soon, more Willoughby life rules and yes, this isn't the last you've heard from Creepy Ray Ray.  Also, middle of next month in honor of National Sheep Day the long awaited posting of "My Wife is a Sheep". Sweet anticipation!  And finally if your a little creeped out or shocked ---- Exactly!
Willoughby May 2018
"I'm gonna eat your ****!" I declared.
Afterward I asked her why she called her macaroni and chili dish, ****.
She said she didn't want anyone to have high expectations of her cooking abilities.
Later that week she invited me up for a pile of steaming crap.
Which turned out to be braised chicken in a garlic sauce.
Willoughby Jul 2018
Maintenance man she's needing
     From her high-rise condo perch
          With its view of the lake.

I stood still as she's feeding
      insults to besmirch
          me without a break

"I shouldn't be pleading
     do you know what I'm worth
          for heaven sake"

Even in the Garden of Eden
    a paradise on earth
         lived the snake.
Willoughby May 2018
Chop, chop, chop, chop, chop,......
.....stack, stack, stack, stack, stack.....chop,chop, chop, chop, chop....  stack, stack, stack, stack.....
HEY!!!
  What are you doing here??
There's nothing here to see but an old man chopping fire wood and stacking it. 
 Heard tell it's gonna be a cold winter.
Colder than a witches ***. 
 You don't need to be here for this boring, repetitive, chore of mine.
Run along.
I'm sure you can find something better to do.  
And let me get back to my work,
Thank you very much.  
Chop,chop,chop,chop,chop.....stack, stack, stack, stack ....chop, chop, chop, chop, ...etc...etc...
Willoughby Sep 2019
Let's start a business today!

We'll call it Complimentary Mirror.  Here's how it works.

First thing in the morning you look into the mirror and say,

"mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all"?  

     And the Complimentary Mirror answers back - you are, your

the fairest of them all.  Then it tells you one of hundreds of

reasons why your magnificent, which it keeps stored in its data base.

     The mirror would give compliments why someone is so

terrifically wonderful.

Compliments such as:

Your wonderful because you don't take **** from no one.

Your awesome because you practice revenge on your enemies.

Your the fairest of them all because you extort favors from your

inferiors and blackmail your superiors.  

You rise above all others because you don't tolerate stupid people

and publically humiliate them.

Your terrifically wonderful because you discipline with spanking

other people's children.

And you get raises at work by threatening your boss.

And want public hangings brought back.

And loathe loud talkers to the point of wanting them dead.

           And other complimentary mirror things.

A mirror that compliments you each morning to help you get a

positive start on your pathetically wretched day.

Let's start a business today!   (Trademark pending).
Willoughby Jun 2018
Cruel punishment is when your ***** itch in a Strait jacket. Or your issued a rubber spoon.  Who can I stab with that! Or when you  hide things in your " Prison wallet" and when they strip search you and you spread your naked legs open all of its contents falls out. Embarrassing!  (Thought you might be interested).

While in solitaire, yearned for any bright color. Like to paint. Not allowed. Had to improvise. Drew images on the walls. Used my human paint. But a guy gets tired of drawing with the same color brown after a while (passing this info on to you).

I Caught a fly the other day pulled it's wings off. It was like having a little crawly pet. This was the highlight of my week (thought I'd tell you about it).

I've gotten real good using a mop.( Just thought you'd like to know).

If I could just get my ***** paroled for a night, but the wardens a Taurus and I'm a Gemini. He needs a life coach and more of the spice, arsenic in his food. (Thought you would be interested).

Anyway, get this message to Nick.  Hopefully it won't be censored.
Tell him ####### when ##########  be ###### and ##### #### the ####### can ################ so ############### to #######    He'll understand.  
Keep that hidden key handy.  I'll even dig around in there to find it if need be. (Thought I'd write you this).

P.S.   Send ****!
Willoughby Sep 2019
Why all the cabbage said I?

It grows in the back said he.

Where's the bathroom said I?

The outhouse is in he back he said.

Does your dad live in town I asked?

No, my dad's buried in the back, out past.

Did your grandfather save this farm for you to have?

No, he's also buried in the back, in a grave.

   So, at this point I  quite naturally just had to go into the back of the house,
to see all there was to see.  Quite naturally.
And dear God, let me tell you what I saw.

              .....TO BE CONTINUED......

( I'm learning the art of cliff hangers in my writing.  You know,
leave them hanging.  Wanting for more.  As in...to be continued).
    How am I doing?
( By the way, there is no ending to this poem. I'm a shock poet.  My poems are like being bitten by a word-snake.  Uncomfortable yes, but you'll probably live.  
     Willoughby, out!
Willoughby Newsletter:  Come and check out the Willoughby gang ---
Mustard Joe ( two tours of Vietnam. You don't even want to know what I've seen).  Creepy Ray Ray ( rumors of my eating human flesh are strictly based on fact.   And facts mean nothing today).    Pendulum Pam ( eyes up here mister).
Willoughby Dec 2018
My distant ancestors before me spent more than 100 million years as non thinking, hunter/gatherer  mammals.  Then in the last million or so, these ancestors of mine began to think, struggle, evolve, organize, create.

For this? All of this I see around me?

I guess I just expected more.

     My ancestors crawled out of the ocean grew limbs for walking then evolved hands for climbing, grasping, survived the ice ages, conquered the plants and animals and the harsh elements, harnessed the laws of nature, created a civilization, a society.

All for this?

I don't know.  I'm looking around.  I'm not impressed at what I see.  

       I think we should start over.
Willoughby Sep 2018
To my followers ( though the numbers be few) I weep crocodile tears for you (dry as they may be) that you unfortunately didn't get to read my latest poem, "My Wife is a Sheep".  It was barred.  Censored.  Monitored. Deleted. Not posted.  
Oh the humanity! 
  
    Again I crossed some line.  So I'll begrudgingly
acknowledge it, in a gun to my back sort of way, and apologize to the Hello poetry monitors.  Why apologize?

    I don't want the sensors, monitors - **** overlords, here at Hello Poetry to be angry and on a warpath out to get me. So I'm sending them each a box of happy chocolates telepathically to mentally stupify their minds and sooth them in their misunderstanding and assure them that my writings inflict no harm to them or to Hello Poetry. I'm a good buddy. I'm a friend... Love you!

 Give us a little freedom of speech for heaven sake.  After all, freedom of speech is an amendment guaranteed by law.  Your not against laws, freedom, the Constitution, America are you?    
  
I'm one of the world's last remaining shock poets and even I'm becoming extinct. You wouldn't want that to happen would you?
I'm an endangered species!

    How can I reach full realization as a writer if I'm censured. How can I blossom and flower as a poet, and let my stamen dangle in the wind for the bees to land on and take away my gooey nectar (uh oh, could be a ****** reference -- Let's barr it, censor it, delete it, not post it). 

    Ultimately, how can I be the "go to guy" shock poet if I can't be shocking? When a reader wakes up and feels like a dose of shock poetry to start his day, and I'm not around, what will they do?

     My advice to you Hello Poetry monitors is to go out and do something shocking!  Feel it's rush. Roll around in its essence. Revel in its pump.  Then  you'll see. you'll be like me. Liberated.  So free....now relax and repeat after me. I love shock poetry...shock poetry......shock poetry....
Willoughby Oct 2018
Sorry sir, there's a 15 minute wait for a table.  "I'm Willoughby **** it, I wait for no one"!

    Sorry mister ,we're all out of that item.  " I'm Willoughby, I write poetry on All Poetry".

   Sorry, we're closed. " I'm Willoughby, I'm insulted.  I've killed for less".

That numbers been disconnected.  " Don't you know who I am? I'm Willoughby.  Willoughby!!  Do I have to spell it out to you?  I have a pet rat, collect garbage and live in the basement of a luxury high-rise building.  Doesn't that account for anything"?

We're the I.R.S.  You haven't paid taxes in five years.  "Who in the hell do you think your talking to?  Well I'm Willoughby.  That trumps everything and all.  Away with you"!

Your sentenced to five years in prison for not paying your taxes.  Court adjourned. " How dare you judge me judge me judge me... judge.  After all, I'm Willoughby".

...and you'll stay in solitary confinement till you behave.  
Sob, cry... but I'm Willoughby.. moan...Willoughby...cry...Willoughby...
Willoughby Jun 2018
Now that I've got your attention, hear this!
I don't want you to like me, love me, or follow me. It means squat.
But by God you better respect me!  
Willoughby is the name!
I bought some of the SUNS that you hand out when you like a poem. I thought you had to buy some to get on the site. They won't take them back.  Hey I'm an old man I get confused easily.   Don't you disrespect me!
Any way I will hand them out the next few months to any poems  that I like and respect. Ah, now I'm the one with the power to pick and choose the approximate....apliccabel.  What's that word...appro.,,aaaaaaaawhat ever!!!!!!!!!!!!  I pick the ones that I think rite.
Don't you disrespect me!!!
Willoughby Aug 2018
Willoughby is the name. And if I can't express my unique and unconventional way of writing here on Hello Poetry as a shock poet,  I'll get angry and leave.  And believe me, you don't want me to get angry (I've been known to get so angry I wet myself).  Following is an example of my style. (WARNING:  If your eyes start to burn, turn away for a few seconds.  You'll be fine).

Reuters news service.  This just in...

PROJECTILE ***** MAN ARRESTED

Dateline:  New York City ---
   Charlie Jenkins, the projectile vomiter of New York is behind bars after 24 incidents of vomiting on people who had made him angry. From rude waitresses to aggressive beggars to mean hotdog venders, he didn't discriminate.

   He apparently could throw up at will and spew it Like a weapon on his unsuspecting victims.  When confronted he would claim that he was just sick with the flu and had no control over it and you can't get mad at someone who is sick can you?

   The judge had to search the laws to call it an assault at the courtroom yesterday and then was promptly vomited on by the man with the nickname known as Up-Chuck Charlie.

   Charlie was quoted as saying, " It's like a super power and there are a lot of jerks who deserve my kind of vengeance and if I punched them I'd go to jail, this way I leave them humiliated and soiled in ***** and get to walk away".  Sorry Charlie, not this time.

    Susan Clark from channel 2 news asked but why do such a disgusting thing, why? Charlie replied,"Why do I do it?  I do it for the same reason that a dog licks his own *****...because I can.
Shocked? Then my work here is done.
Keep looking for more Willoughby life rules to come!
Also stay tuned to meet a guy named Creepy Ray Ray, coming soon!
Willoughby Jun 2018
We all make mistakes.
My dad's gardener was named Jesus. So I asked him if he  came back to save our souls. He said no comprende, he didn't understand.
So I crucified him.
Buried his *** under the Rose bush. The next year my dad had grown award winning roses on that spot where I buried Jesus.  
It was a mistake on my part.
I should have buried him under the peach tree. That ******* tree hasn't produced a good crop in years.
  You live and learn.
Willoughby Jun 2018
Willoughby life rule #43

If your at one of those weird parties in one of those progressive

towns full of people hard to identify gender wise.
  
Go ahead and do the reach around and grab their ***.

If they slap you it's a woman,  if they punch you it's a man.


Look for other Willoughby life rules coming soon!
Willoughby Sep 2018
Mustard Joe told Pendulum Pam that Creepy Ray Ray was

purchasing a human kidney, illegally, on the black market.  We

didn't even know Creepy Ray Ray was sick.  Sick in the head

maybe, but physically sick? We had no idea.

   You may think that it' not right that I should call Creepy Ray

Ray sick in the head but I think you'll agree with me when I tell

you what happened.  Creepy Ray Ray told Mustard Joe who told

Pendulum Pam that he wasn't sick. Good we all said.  We heard

you were buying a human kidney, thank goodness your not. "Oh

I'm buying a human kidney", said Creepy Ray Ray. " I'm buying

it to eat it"!
Let's all give a big welcome to our two new characters, Mustard Joe and Pendulum Pam. A background bio will soon follow.                    
               Willoughby News letter:  "My Wife is a Sheep" has been barred and removed from display but can still be seen if you go to my profile page.  Warning: No *****'s, dweebs or anyone without a twisted sense of adventure should view the poem.    Willoughby out!
Willoughby Sep 2018
Not figuratively, but literally.  It's called zoo. Inter species

coupling.  My wife is a sheep.     But let me tell you how it all

began...

    When I was ten, I knew I was attracted to animals when I put

lipstick on a pig and we made out behind the barn.   Later that

year my uncle started hiding his dog Sadie whenever I came by

because I had to go to the hospital when I put peanut butter on

my ***** and instead of licking it off, Sadie bit it.

Later when I was 12 I couldn't help but admire the hind

quarters of my uncle's donkey.  Such a fine ***, I mean donkey.

Hee haw.

I still keep in touch with Sadie, if a dog can keep in touch.

Needless to say we don't play fetch the stick, too many bad

memories. You know dog spelled backwards is God? So that

helps justify my love for Sadie.

Any way, when I was 14 I got arrested for fence hopping. That's

when you sneak into someone else's property and  f*ck  their

animals.

And it was only later when as an adult, I met my wife the sheep,

who is named Angelica, because of her white angel- like wool.  I

met her on a animal *** farm up North called "Loving Nature".

It's a ranch where there is a whole sub culture going on. Like a

**** Noah's Ark.

A guy on the internet married us so it's bound to be legal.  If she

ever has baby lambs, they will end up with my Irish nose. Just

kidding, ha ha.

So that's how I came to love animals and married  my wife

Angelica, the sheep. PETA doesn't understand  me but I think the

animals like it. I never heard one say no or stop.
Willoughby May 2018
Question:  What's the most disgusting thing humans do almost every day?

Answer: Have bad thoughts about other people.

What did you think the answer was going to be?
Willoughby Aug 2020
Gather up your words,
and let your voice be heard.
Bonk a stranger over the head,
with your opinion.

Now's the time for us oppressed,
to get undressed,
and no longer wear the clothes,
of the feeble minion.

There's a new day dawning,
that the people are wanting,
not for us to weakly stand aside
and hide.

Rise from the muck and mire,
to fight fire with fire,
those who bully are really
cowards deep inside.

Stand up from your knees please,
and live on your feet,
as we march through the street.
It's time to begin,
it's them we condemn.

Their voice shouldn't be louder,
just because they have power.
Now is our hour.
We'll burn their shoes,
while they're standing in them.

When they turn the other ear,
and feign to neither hear or care,
what we have mumbled,
and rambled and said.
We'll slap them upside the head!

It's our station in life,
to have them pay attention
to what's right,
We should.
Or were better off dead.

It's time for new ideas and a fresh take,
to shake off their mistake,
that losers always lose,
and winners win.

Have your brother and your mother,
stand with one another.
Have your little sister kick them in the shin.

If it's to dole out a drubbing,
with our fisticuffs flying,
to change them from denying,
to attentively listen.

Then by all means,
shove down their throat,
any wisdom of note,
to choke them,
on the value of our opinion.

                This time they will listen
                 .... or else!
Willoughby Nov 2018
Welcome to the con!  The con starts with the author, Dr. Seuss.

He's no doctor.  And that's a fact (and no it's not the only truthful

thing in this diatribe of mine).  He used the doctor moniker to

sell more books!

       That guy in the book pestering the other guy to try "Green

Eggs and Ham"? Turns out to be the ham and egg salesman,

Sam I Am.

  It's a motivational selling "won't take no for an answer"

how to sell book disguised as children's literature.

    And Sam I Am is psychotically relentless in his pursuit of a

sale.  He needs a restraining order slapped on his ***.

                   "Would you eat them in a box? Would
                    you eat them with a fox. Would you eat
                    them with a goat.  Would you eat them on a
                     boat".  Would you eat green eggs and ham,
                    would you eat them Sam I Am?     

                                                       ­            Dr. Seuss

And on and on. Sam I Am goes stalking him from page to page.

  

    I had a friend of mine, Mustard Joe, ex war veteran with more

than twenty kills (you don't even want to know the things he's

seen) take a look into this green eggs and ham food source that

Sam I Am is pushing so hard.  Here are some of the ingredients

he may or may not have found.
                  
             Ham   --        30 grams of sugar (questionable )
                         --       15 grams of caffeine (untested)                               
Green eggs   --          Trace amounts of nicotine ( not verified)
                        --          Handfuls of ******* (rumored)

As you can see, It's not an exact science.

People. When eggs turn green, that's mother nature trying to

warn you that your food has gone bad.

   But in the end, Sam I Am gets the fool to finally try the green

eggs and ham and he absolutely loves it.  Maybe the books lesson  

is about to not be afraid about things you don't understand or

never tried. But I still believe there is insidious deception and

evil in the book. I have to think that way.  Because after all -- I'm

Willoughby !!
Next month I explore the possibility that the book, " Everyone Poops", is a racist metaphor.
Willoughby Oct 2018
The newsman said there was a lot of angst out there. I'm gonna

break apart the word angst, rearrange the letters leaving "ants"

with a "G" left over.  I'll put the ants on display at the San Diego

Zoo and use the G as a nickname for the punk kid who lives up

the street from here, as in " hey G how's it going".  A few ants and

a nickname and just like that,  no more angst!

Your welcome America.
Willoughby Jan 2020
I've built a bomb shelter type crawl space for us to hunker down in when the world blows up.  If that isn't the ultimate proof of my love I don't know what is.

     Sure you'll end up pooping in a bucket and washing in recycled *** but **** it woman, you will be alive.

     You know how they say a person could get so hungry they would eat dog food. Well I left us mostly dog food. That way we can skip right to that sort of situation and experience it first hand.  If that isn't the ultimate act of love I don't know what is.

     You Know how you said you wouldn't have *** with me if I was the last man on earth? With only you and me in the bomb shelter, we'll have a chance to test that theory.  Besides, it might be up to us to repopulate the world so that's going to mean making babies which requires lots of ***. Sacrifices must be made. It's our duty. Count me in.

     I'll have to extract a pint of blood a week from you to feed the crickets. Later to grind them up as cricket meat. Cricket burgers, cricket burritos. We'll mix it with the dog food for a unique pate'.  Toss them in your mouth when snacking, like popcorn. And yes, crickets make noise but so did Beethoven.

     Plus it will be cold down there in the bomb shelter but blankets take up so much room there won't be many. We'll have to spoon at night to share our body heat. It only makes sense. To share our body heat. Spoon at night. Body heat...Oh yeah...

    Anyway, where was I? Oh right. So I dug you a bomb shelter to survive in, just in case the world goes kablooey. Maybe I'll even be the one who blows up the earth so we can be together. Now if that isn't the ultimate act of love I don't know what is.
Willoughby Sep 2018
It was a perfectly good all-purpose metal trash can. Shouldn't of been haphazardly discarded for the want of a new one. Evidently this was my reasoning at the time as I saved it from oblivion and tossed it in the back of my pick-up truck never knowing the dire ramifications this action would entail.

   Tossed in the back of the truck, rattling around, while Jr. Boy and me mosied down some back road. When our world changed.
That night.
As Jr boy, hiding in the trash can, as the sky fell in firey chunks of read hot magma burning and incinerating everything.  Flames leaping as any thing flamatory flamed, anything burnable burned.  Soon digging holes for water, eating bugs for food But surviving.  
For want of a trash can.
You carry on Jr boy. Your daddy loves you.  The world needs you.
Well this isn't very shocking! What's going on here? I'm Willoughby, the world's first shock poet. This beautiful, wonderful, and touching story could ruin my bad reputation...Rewrite!...Eliot, take this down..somethings wrong...rewrite.... Nooo.....I'm melting....melting....no...Eliot, before I melt away...and die...promise me..you'll get rid of the thumbs down...you will...you heard it everyone.... Eliot promised to get rid of the thumbs... down......melt....nooo....!   Hey everyone, this is Creepy Ray Ray. I'm not sure if Willoughby melted away or snuck out the back door. This may mean we may never get to read his, "My Wife is a Sheep" poem.  I would stay tuned, or follow to be on the safe side.
P.S. Do you ever pick your scabs, let them heal, pick them again, let them heal over and over again?      Creepy Ray Ray out !
Willoughby Oct 2018
Coming soon, the Willoughby gift shop featuring tee shirts with the thumbs up logo on front for only $89.99.  Made from 100% fabric like material.

  Also a novelty flammable plastic oven mitt from Mustard Joe called," ***** catch-up, I want Mustard"!  Made in Vietnam as a friendly gesture, to the very people he used to shoot, maim, ****. You don't even want to know the things he did over there!

  Anyway, stop by the gift shop. Pendulum Pam works there and she's worth the price of admission on her own (that reminds me, the price of admission is 25 dollars to the gift shop).

   Willoughby is absent this week with an STD which I think stands for "some kind of transmitted disease".  Like the flu or something.

   Subbing in is me, Creepy Ray Ray (Mustard Joe wasn't available due to an appointment with his lobotomist - You don't even want to know the things he's seen or what's inside his head).

                           Creepy Ray Ray life tip #1

   When eating human flesh, and I'm not admitting that I ever have, braise quickly on both sides and let simmer in a light sauce as it tends to be tough to chew and somewhat gamey.  I lost a crown off a tooth chewing it once.
Greetings from the gang: Willoughby--"I'm the world's first shock poet".
Creepy Ray Ray--"Send me some body parts, pretty please with sugar on top"?  Mustard Joe--"Two tours of Vietnam! You don't even want to know the things I've seen".  Pendulum Pam--" Quit staring! My eyes are up here. I'll slap you silly".
Willoughby Sep 2019
Make sure to avoid thrombosis in the legs when flying in an airplane.  

How?   I'm glad you asked.

To keep the circulation flowing in your legs, go ahead and KICK  

the seat in front of you.  Tell the flight attendant I said it was all right.
Willoughby is back.   And no, I wasn't in jail.
Willoughby Jul 2018
One night at a bar:


I asked her what her name was.  She said she had no name.  Her

parents never got around to giving her one. This was very

curious and I found myself suddenly interested.

So I asked her if I could call her some time. She said she never

got around to getting a phone either. Didn't feel the need.

She kept saying sorry, she had to go. So I told her I'd give her a

ride to anywhere.  She said she didn't believe in cars, religiously.

Wait now.  She had no name, she had no phone and didn't use

cars?    I said where do you come from, Mars?  She said she had

no history either, and then she was gone!

For some reason I get the strange feeling she was trying to avoid

me.
Willoughby Jun 2018
I like CANDY. Sweet, tasty, convenient. Sometimes I'll just get in my car at a noticed whim and drive. Destination CANDY!!

I can't say enough about CANDY.

But still probably not good for you, can get expensive for a guy like me (who throws nickels around like they're man hole covers).  

I like to ****, I like to lick, it's all good with CANDY.
CANDY, CANDY, more CANDY
.
CANDY is the name of a stripper down at the local slap and tickle.

You should of seen this coming!

— The End —