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 Oct 2015
Bill murray
A doctor and his wife were having a big argument at breakfast. "You aren't so good in bed either!", he shouted and stormed off to work. By mid morning, he decided he'd better make amends and called home. "What took you so long to answer?" "I was in bed." "What were you doing in bed this late?" "Getting a second opinion.

Did you hear about the guy who ran infront of the bus? He got tired .
 Oct 2015
Helen
heed over heels
*** over ***
I fell for it
Written August 4th 2012
found while scrolling through my Unlisted poems
it made me laugh over 3 years later so I finally made Public :)
(more likely I just forgot it was there) :D
 Oct 2015
Irving MacPherson
A
good
laugh
can make
all the difference
in the world

a joke is
a joke is
a joke

I can't
take myself
too seriously

laughing
at myself
is good medicine
 Oct 2015
Roberta Day
Periodic change
is needed for those who grow
complacent quickly.
Need to find a new job.
 Oct 2015
bones
When I am old
and still alive
like embers in the ashes I
will burn the hands
of all who try
to tidy up too soon...
 Oct 2015
Dreams of Sepia
In the "Warwick Arms".


There's a girl wearing fake fur

of yesteryear's youth, weighing

out sexiness in the number

of beers she can afford.

How much oblivion

an unimaginative mind can take

is equal to the power of

a beached whale

drawing it's last breath.

The Russian wipes his moustache

turns around & smirks

that she's somewhat

under-dressed for the long winter.



Going to Japan.



Pink rain:

I could walk through it,

sweet-wrapped.

And the rice-blank  past

would be ample weight in my hand.

Like that of roses, remembered.

In a Murakami bar,

octopi would reach out

& dangle questions.

As a thousand pair of eyes

ask me to give the lesson

no-one ever taught me.

That they alone know.

That only pink rain understands.
' The Warwick Arms' is a pub near me....the poem is a sketch of the time a Russian friend of ours came to stay with us for a few days & how we went there for a drink..

by 'Pink rain' in the second poem I mean Cherry Blossom, for which Japan is famous...& by Murakami  bar I guess I was thinking of Haruki Murakami, one of Japan's most famous novelists...
These are old poems from way back, written about four years ago...I never got to Japan & don't know if I'll ever go there now but who cares, at least I have a poem about it....
 Oct 2015
David Ehrgott
Nearly twenty years ago
I can't believe time flies
When all I had upon my mind
Was thoughts of getting high

I never understood my mom
Popping pills at tea
or How my grandpa polished
off a case a day, no, three

Not wanting to become insane
or Die diseased so early
I decided at a legal age
To smoke the ****, for surely

of All the places in the states
Just one said do it legally
I packed my bags and set out for
Mendocino County

I took my time, such a long ride
on 80 from New Jersey
Enjoyed the sights but, flew no kite
Still, made my travels worthy

The California National Guard
and the DEA
Set up a post to check all cars
in/out of the county

It took a couple hours then
For them to inspect me
I must admit here that this greet
Did make me feel uneasy

They made it very clear to me
That I could smoke' the ****
Just don't try to take it out
of Mendocino County

I said "Okay!"  They said "Drive Safe"
I buckled ; drove away
I drove along the two-lane road
Admittedly Amazed

I turned a corner , hit the brakes
There was in front of me
A farmer man, who did tell me
Get out, you have to learn the ****

I abided easily
to learn most all or everything
I could so one day I could be
An expert in Weedology

I spent nearly a week or two
Finding out all that I could
But, I was high and this did lead
to some info misunderstood

I learned cultivation, irrigation
debugging plants by spraying pepper
Planting, pruning, a beginner
But, after time, I did get better

Then one day after a cup
of morning Bhang, I did awake
Then moseyed on to brighter pastures
****** alone, I was quite baked

Would you believe ; I can't believe
A girl I knew from New Jersey
A ***** from Hawthorne she despised me
This feeling was so mutually

After I escaped her grip
And fed her some more bitter lip
I took my bag, it was a lid
and slowly rolled another spliff

I found a house to my amaze
It said "For Rent" read in my haze
I paid the rent/security
Pulled out a blunt, began to blaze

There was no time that I remember
From months of May through to September
That I wasn't high all day
I knew I had to move away

****, (the grass) grown everywhere
Just pick some off, feel better, there
No one left out of the haze
Everybody there did blaze

I got so bored, I was so teased
Stop it!  Stop it!  Stop it, please!
I can't be ****** all' of the time
Oh, shut up and smoke more of this ****

I could not take it anymore
I closed the house and shut the door
All the smoke I once adored
Soon became all such a bore

I packed my bags and said goodbye
To all my stoner friends still high
I headed north to Oregon
To grow tomatoes, seemed like fun

Twenty years now have been spent
Remembering those cronies
Those mendacious merchant mendicants
of Mendocino County
 Oct 2015
Sally A Bayan
Start slow...
     warming... up...and...below
         forty five degrees
            to the left...right...others go nineties...
       some freeze...from locked knees
   they don't mind...they'll recover
          before the hour is over...

Detach self
    from what
       surrounds
             but...still aware
                connected...
            agitation
        soon to be lessened
   eventually....calmed

Focus...
   exercise
       stabilize
    synchronize
        visualize
     internalize
  energize!

Endure!
               An ant bites at the back of your ear
         something's  crawling on your tummy
     beads of sweat, drop across your eyes,
or inside your ear...you feel the cold touch within
    
A bee, a wasp...sometimes, a fly
      circles very near your face
           makes your wall of
                concentration, crumble
              tempting you to lose count
          of the movements
      testing you...
   if you might still stray...even
      a step away...
          if, to your weaknesses
      you would still succumb

          will you be distracted?
             or stay focused?

Let eyes, and mind blink
     One...two...three...quickly!
            be grounded!
                stay on the right track.....

               Exercise!
               ...visualize....
               ... internalize.....
               ...never give up!



Sally


Copyright September 21, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***starting the week right...too much chinese noodles this weekend***
 Oct 2015
Ja
That Cialis commercial
Has everything all wrong
They say, call your doctor
If your *******'s, too long

If Cialis can provide me
With a four hour *******
Why should I call my doctor
To give me direction
                                                                                                        
They should warn about swallowing                                                
But, they don’t give a heck
Cause if it dissolves in your mouth          
You get a stiff neck
WIZDUMBs BY JA 585
Not meant to put anyone or anything down.
 Oct 2015
TiReSooOmEe3
amiee you are fun
You are nice
amiee is fun
I like to eat rice
amiee is sweet
Like tiny treats
She likes my poems
Because there sweet
Tickle feet/\/\,\,#,#,#,#,##,#,#,#,#,#,# :=:=:=::$+$(%)%)";%)$)$;%;($(=(;%;$;#;=;$;
 Oct 2015
Elisa Maria Argiro
Just between you and me,
I'd rather be a saint than a poet...

But to see the world like this:

A huge, shining consonant, lying on its side,
over the very ordinary clothesline,
well,
that's something, isn't it?
©Elisa Maria Argirò
 Oct 2015
Elisa Maria Argiro
I pull my damp,
faded jean's jacket
out of the machine.
Something clatters.
Oh good, a dime.
No. A cherry seed.

Now you're going to tell me
that cherry have pits, right?
But "pit" is such a dismal little word.
And this shiny clean trophy sports
a history of petty thievery,
committed in the local grocery store.

A big yellow cherry with a pink blush.
Just one, chewed boldly. Its hard center
hidden in my pocket.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
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