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Bluebird Oct 2016
I can't formulate:
what makes you think,
what makes you talk,
so i make you laugh,
by telling a joke!
I may not know,
how the muscles twich,
but that smile of yours,
is an awesome gltich!
  Oct 2016 Bluebird
Bob B
Would you hold a tarantula
On your upturned palm
And watch it creep up your arm
While you stayed cool and calm?
 
You might be able to do it,
Or at least be willing to try.
Not for a billion dollars!
No, no, no…not I!
 
In some parts of the world
Tarantulas are a snack.
Could you eat one without
Having a heart attack?
 
They're roasted on a stick
And eaten with gusto and glee.
That might be something you'd like;
It's NOT my cup of tea.
 
Tell me: why do spiders
Send shivers down my spine?
Only some are dangerous;
Most of them are benign.
 
I mean, in CHARLOTTE'S WEB
I have to admit that I cried
When--SPOILER ALERT!--
The poor spider died.
 
Although in my garden they eat
Flies and other critters,
Despite their usefulness,
They STILL give me the jitters.
 
Maybe some spider jokes
Would make them less of an irk:
A spider walked into a bar…
No, that doesn't work.
 
I have to see spiders as simply
Mysterious creatures of nature.
My fears, however, are real
And not about nomenclature.
 
I can try to stay calm
In the future whenever I meet one.
But I can tell you right now:
I'll never HOLD or EAT one!

- by Bob B
Bluebird Oct 2016
my eyes were burning with desire
as he talked ***** and slow
thats why i let the fire
cosume me to the bones

his voice was low and husky
his skin was hot and sweet
with kisses intoxicating like whiskey
pleasured till i forgot to breath

so seductivly charming
with eyes emerald green
so handsome that's alarming
a guy worthy of a queen.
Bluebird Oct 2016
when  did  you  stop  being  cheerful
why are your hands soaked with tears
where are your ends and your beginings
don't let yourself drown within sillly fears
Bluebird Sep 2016
I am trying to make a plum jam
because you said you hate it,
because it makes me happy,
but last few days
i keep finding your cigarrete stashes
in unusaul places.

my mind is filled with smoke
leave me and my plums alone
  Sep 2016 Bluebird
Matthew Harlovic
at a certain time and space,
the density of absence
threw me off my axis.
i felt like atlas,
bridging the gap between
theory and praxis, text and world.

© Matthew Harlovic
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