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Poetic T Feb 16
I wish you were here, next to me in the moments
before the church bells, we called them that for they
fell ever hour, and when the bells tolled there were
the ones that never got up, silenced as every bell tolled.

But your home sitting in the roust, keeping mother safe,
keeping her from the truth, I still write letters from Robert,
she was her favorite,  we all know that.
                                              But he took a shell to the face....

We wept for five minutes straight, he was the strength between
us but now were the strength between us
                                                              ­          keeping each other safe.

We buried him beneath a bush, we gave him grace.
               then we walked on knowing it wasn't  about him
or us, but those that depended on the messages we carried
like a dove flying to that peaceful place.

We got there before the many fell. we lost one but saved
                 the many that would have been RIP's

but know breath for a moment more,
                               not falling for now in this place

"Dear mum,

Robert is keeping us in order, were not missing a step,
he says don't worry as he'll take a bullet before one of us.
He asked if you could say a prayer, saying a thank you
                            to the Lord for keeping us all safe.

We march on tomorrow to the place they call the tomb,
but dont worry we have Robert
                                        looking over us to keep us safe.

Dear mum, if we don't all come home just know
were with you now.
     And as we take every footstep

                          were one closer to home.
Poetic T Jan 23
This fella or
                      was it a lass?
  the compelling
         question to ask?

This unique one, with a hoot.

No, it didn't bark
                            or woof or even
                  or blow bubbles like my fish,

It never spoke a word
            or a sentence.

You could speak to it,
  can you understand my
     soft words?
   All you heard back was
                          the hoot.

Was that a yes or a no
                          or a maybe?

short and sweet,
                  or long and soft.
I couldn't tell but I thought and
shrugged my shoulders thinking,

                                   "oh' well,

My name, never mind what's yours?
                         it gave a hoot.  
So I said you look like a hoogle to me?

What's a hoogle you say,
well it's what
     this hoot looks like most of all.

    But really I just made it up.
                           "Shhhh our secret,
                 that's what it is a hoolgle

And you know what it gave out a happy
                i think it likes its new name.

But remember if you meet this unique
   one, with a hoot.

No, it didn't bark
                            or woof or even
                  or blow bubbles like my fish,

But it will merrily walk
    and just hoot all-day and did I mention

it hoots in its sleep?
    That's why I'm awake writhing
Dec 2020 · 407
What We Grew From
Poetic T Dec 2020
Never forget the root that fed you,

for no matter the height you attain

remember the earth beneath your feet..

No matter your height,

                       you forget what
    you grew from...

you'll easily fall and no one will hear it.
Nov 2020 · 258
Man Boobs
Poetic T Nov 2020
I was told I had nice ****,
         but they were a tad on

the hairy side...

A Woman can be so judgmental..

they aren't sagging,
                            and yes I may be an A cup,

but anything is more than a waste to my wife..
Nov 2020 · 212
What Made Me An Atheist
Poetic T Nov 2020
What made me an atheist!!

I get the question a lot!!

And my reply isn't for the

Giving back in return what the
         the priest gave me but in return.

                            Over the alter,
all you heard from his lips where

Oh Jesus,
          ****** it!!

holy mother of god!!

    He took the bread and his ****

drank the wine...

And I thought if a man of the cloth could
           say the lord's name in vain so much
how could there be a lord if

he was blasphemous to such a degree...

I left him tied to the alter, a cross down
his throat... swallowing his faith,
             but his god couldn't save him...

I did the sign of the ******* as I left....
Nov 2020 · 635
Wishes do come true.
Poetic T Nov 2020
Never be what some one
             wishes you

To be.

Be the genie,
and show
    Them your wishes.

Trust, friendship & empathy.
Nov 2020 · 266
I Walked My Dog
Poetic T Nov 2020
My dog its name is Gizmo with a capital G, he isn't
very tall and not very long. He's very playful doesn't
always listen to what he's ever told. But it's like his name,
as others have said so. If somethings missing the blame
would always be on him, to this hairball this is just a game.

His favorite season for walks is when autumn comes to call.
The puddles on the floor and the leaves on the ground, all
he wants to do is be playful in the heaps of color and crawl.
Beneath them playing hide and seek, but he is always so
easy to find, following his lead a tail-wagging to and fro.

He never misses a puddle, his hair soaked, and has very
muddy little toes, chasing all the birds, but he's not scary
at all. They fly away squawking and he just looks at me
then runs around again chasing nothing at all. We see
in the distance home letting off the lead, he runs in glee.

Towel now around him, drying him quickly off. As his wetter
than a puddle. Shivering we give him a cuddle, feeling better
he now falls asleep upon his bed. Five minutes of peace before
he gets his energy back, and then a zoomy around the floor,
and then I'm like, has anyone seen my sock?      Gizmo!!
Wrote this for my youngest daughter :)
Nov 2020 · 275
Swings That Were Static
Poetic T Nov 2020
There was a swing that the unhappy
                        people swung upon..

they were most happy when instead
of the too and frowning

It was static,

    They stayed there awhile.
Nov 2020 · 194
Tied Like A Maroon Bow
Poetic T Nov 2020
Is it the radio or the silence,
             or the music in your head on repeat
Does that drown the monotony of
                       replayed silence that's
never-ending like the road traveled upon?

But we never question who the hell is driving
                       us to this place that
we never even questioned.

Are we on cruise control
                 lost in our thoughts,
wrapped like a bow around a tree?
Nov 2020 · 246
Unchanging Tempo
Poetic T Nov 2020
Chronology were neither
at the point of no return
                          or a way back.

What's perplexing in the narrative
is that neither can be changed,
                     as were in neither
but the  momentary

      fluctuation of either
Nov 2020 · 160
Regulated Contortions
Poetic T Nov 2020
Deteriorated configurations that are
neither of consecutive methods
                                             or contorted reflections,
it's upon the eye line of those who look perplexed.

For what is slumped like tired unimportance,
is neither an inflexible road,
for nothing is
               either invariable or contorted
It's just a view that each takes.

                                Me I'm like the reed,
both woven in a paradox
of motions.
For who sees a contortionist
   that's neither of each
                                     or the other.

Riffling upon the aspects of my decisive
                            displacement that catches
nither the truth or the lie.
You  may catch the second,
                        or minute,
        but beyond the mirco filaments
that linger between variable glimpse
that pass.

Is more than constructive  tendrils
           of a lifetime of consequential
amendments or defaming the
              consequential understanding
that nothing plays by the rules..
Nov 2020 · 206
Knee Down, Recycled Breath
Poetic T Nov 2020
The voice of many is all one. it doesn't matter
the flavor of our skin with coffee,
                      we milk, were caramel.

Were all different tastes but some think
because our tastes are different
that they can throw the cup down
                             crush it under the knee..

We aren't recyclable we may taste different,
                 but doesn't mean you can crush
any of us under afoot
                                 or knee.

were all in this together if one falls, we all fall..
Poetic T Nov 2020
Well this has a deflating feeling but
                         a pumped upending.  

There was a little one, he was always
kicked around, but they were the best
of times, boot or hand he didn't mind.

Scuff marks marking his features,
   every now and then washed off
Mudd crusted between stitches.

If he felt a little deflated they'd
be positive pumping him up full
of air once again.

It was him and them for a time,
  but it moves on.
He went out less and less,
  it was summer and he went
           out once.
Sitting on the windowsill
wishing to between the blades
of grass. at the end of a foot and
                   a goal post.

Not being kicked and thrown
around, then it got real, he was
put in the shed empty not feeling
the air between his stitches anymore.

Then he heard voices in the back,
   don't worry you have friends,
Were all a little deflated in here?
I think some of us were mislaid.
Forgotten by mistake or we like
to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach.
Now I'm just missing the sunshine.

I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty
anymore, I was their favorite  seaside
friend, you see they fixed my bobo.
I don't leak anymore, but they didn't
fill me up or throw me again.

I was put in here for another time,
but I only see them when they are
looking for lost things, but not me.

Meet tennis and his sister,
there a right pair, one always going
over the net, the other hoping that  
the other would hit so they could
feel the air bouncing between the
                            racket and them.

The racket was in here, but never talked
just time pulling at his strings,
sagging as if a smile hanging upside down.

We have been in here a while,
  don't know how long, we just
chat about the fun times before.

So they told each other stories wondering
what it would have been to be the other.
Laughing and joking at the possibility
of either hit by a boot or floating so high
in the air,  as if they'd never hit the ground.

Time passed and one day the family all
came to the shed, older than before.

Oh my gosh, I remember you guys..

Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh
he's still got his kitty plaster on...
They pumped him up and he went in to
the air, he could feel the heat of the sun,
and it felt right again.

They grabbed me I was a little shrunken,
  And the boy now a man, oh my gosh..
I thought I lost you, they pumped me up.
He did tricks with me, on knee head and
foot, wow he's got better as time passed.

Then racket came out with tennis and his
sister, what shall we do with these,
   Oh' no they thought are going to end up
in the trash.

But they saw racket tightened his strings,
and then the yellow siblings where smacked
against the wall, they smiled at the noise and
the feel of Racket upon them again.

The sun was beaming and everything felt
like before. But then they were put into
the car with other objects, a vase slightly
chipped, but beautiful anyway.
Books, with folded pages, what stories
they could tell us, another time anyway.

We traveled a while, hearing noises
outside, And handed to another,
don't worry we'll find them a new home.
We were put on shelves, price tags stuck
to us, we were left behind pieces that
others didn't want to throw away.
But finding us a new home, racket and the
twins were first to go,
                    at least they weren't separated.

A new face taking them home cuddling,
holding them tight, a home was found.
Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with
her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and
was smitten. She threw him in the air
i could see him smile at the thought of
once again being thrown again.

Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even
realise that I'd even been sold.
Rudley awoke to a foot in my face.
what the, and I could feel the air between
my fibers, I could see children and more
of me being kicked around.

I was among others as laughter and glee,
as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like
home again, not the one before but a new
one I was inflated and gliding between posts,
back of the net, and out again.

Home is where ever you feel needed,
and never let yourself feel deflated as
we are all useful in our own way.

I have to go as I have fourteen children
chasing after me, and there I go.
boot to me and in the air, I fly again.
Nov 2020 · 162
One For The Fallen
Poetic T Nov 2020
He was young, and by that hardly
able to shave, they thought he
was arrogant, not brave beyond his years.
   But he knew that sacrifice for what
                     was just and right.

He sailed the sea, throwing up overboard
                    feeding the fishes.

Never taking the bus, young ones
crying missing home.
But don't take their tears for cowards,
                they fell like petals fighting a worth.

But for him,  he'd rather walk showing worth.
           His mother, she cried,
bro, staying strong while I'm away.
Taking the burden of home cos too younger to follow.
He'd said if I fall,
                                    know I did it for us not me.

Poppy was on my chest, as we fought,
       We  had three brothers, they smoked
and joked but anyone from the other side played us,
                         they'd put across in his chest.
Dead but respected, no one buried but anger
                                                and respect blurred.

We lost henry to a ******, couldn't  bury,
just put a petal on his chest.
   We teared up, as we walked on,
took his angel out clipped their wings
    they ain't taking anyone with them.

Henry earned his petal, as we looked back,
         but we walked on.
Across broken buildings and bodies,
   we respected everyone we passed.

Sign of the cross, move on friend
                   and enemy you're at rest.
We carried our guilt of henry over the hill,
                            but then an injured soldier.
Delerium had taken hold, Allen got a knife
between the ribs, pierced his heart before his
next beat he was dead.

The soldier crying thinking he'd saved us,
    Allen had a tear falling on his dismayed features.
                  Edwin punched him in the face,
but we held him back.
            He gathered his composure noting that
this wasn't his fault.

We said thank you for your sacrifice, and he pasted,
                            Edwin gave him a swift kick.
  What he'll not feel it, I know the confusion
but Allen was his friend.

We put a petal on his chest closed his eyes
so he didn't see the rest of the war
                       with eyes wide open.

After this, I and Jeffery were called back for the
the final push, on the beach of gold and blood.
  We looked at each other and shook hands as
                       the boards fell, we ran, I must rewrite
this as we were the first to land and Jeffery was
the first to fall, he was my last brother, I just stopped.

They were treading upon me, but all I could see was my
friend's smile, grinning at deaths touch, proud he was here.
Seeing the fear and pride in his eyes as a single
tear fell. I picked myself up and put a petal on him.

Thinking this was my last day, a petal left on my
chest if I fell who would put one upon me.
   Nevertheless, we won the day. I have scars.
              physical and mentality I lost a lot.

Got home, saw my girl she was grown up,
             happy that my love waited for me,
We lived a long life, we had more than one
         who gave us pride.

2020 I lived through another century,
    Standing proud, as I lift a palm straight
                                            to my brow.
A single petal still standing proud,
                 As I gaze I see three figures approach,
pinning the other three petals upon my chest.

They raise there hands and swipe,
                          you respected our fallen.
And on every petal was a message and a name.
     You gave everything to them and now we give it back.

I cried tears as when I looked beside me,
                        my friends were there smiling.

And we stood to attention,
                              for our lives and deaths.
We saw what was and the sacrifice of what
                           we all paid the price for,

                                                          ­     Freedom
this made me tear up, :(
Nov 2020 · 130
Static Branches Bare
Poetic T Nov 2020
Intervals depicted by woefully
                        stark sights.

Tombstone branches drape
              over the division
of essence.

That now clings to the earth,
  moved on by the breath around.

I see them grazing in the air,
a corpse  of what was warm.

Now showing the frigidness
                          of what is upon us.

Mourning the beauty of what was,
         and I look up at the tombstone
branches in reverence.

Awaiting the time when life wavers
          above me once again.

And then I will smile, for now,
       I slumber within my

stark contemplations.
Nov 2020 · 377
Morrows Weaving
Poetic T Nov 2020
labyrinths of interwoven

Cling on the dawn of morrow.
       unseen until the rigor of seasons.

I gaze out and splendor at the
     entanglement interlaced
before my eyes,

                            and smile.
Nov 2020 · 190
Confectionary Delights
Poetic T Nov 2020
A woman is somewhat like

If she takes a Twix,

    be it one or both.

Well then, you are in luck.

But if she is a Kit-kat,
    and takes every finger.
Then by all accounts my friend
who at best is a mar-bar at worse
     a pack of Rolo's.

Well, you're not touching the sides.

With that in mind, the tongue is wider
        and can taste a woman much better. :)
Nov 2020 · 103
Memories Are Like Breathes
Poetic T Nov 2020
Can we hold a breath,
some are like dandelions.

The seeds may disperse,
  and we may try to clasp
             upon them.

We may tenure a few,
   but nevertheless
only certain animations
     may linger.

But even though we
   may lose so many.

The ones we have will
           grow, and even
though some dissipated
beyond our reach.

A flower of
   memories breathe on
in the wind
   flourishing brighter

                      than before.
Nov 2020 · 161
A Spot That Was To Be More
Poetic T Nov 2020
There was once a spot,
some would say he was charcoal
others would say it's got to be coal.
then you would have the, no its dark grey.

But we'll let you decide that for now.

The spot was on the page all alone,
   he filled up quite a portion of the page.
But it's not fun being alone, so he thought
instead of a spot ill become many dots.

So slowly what was one became two, three
smaller and smaller did spot become.
After quite a time, the spot was no more but
dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked
at each other the many but still alone.

So they decided to connect slowly the large dots
shrank as they lined from one to 100.
It took a while but now they were connected.
still their individual selves but now not alone.

But the funny thing is, that when we connect
things, we see more than before.
They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot
then united. They Painted a picture, you
may ask of what could a giant spot becomes.

Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs,
and one of the cutest barks. He ran around
the page, some dots shock loose.
landing in the middle spread out but
close enough not to be alone.

They wondered for a while what they were till
they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog,
a puppy to be exact. And with that they came
up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair.
All wanted one, but you have one always
                             wanting something esle.

Well the vote was in the many had thought and
pondered, now they knew who they were going to be.
Drum roll please....
      Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat.
And there name was to be Spot the dog,
   except the one on our ear.

He shall be known as bob.

After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the
page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his
tail just this once more.

So the story goes from one to the many,
to be more than they'd ever wished before.
We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.
    And if your careful and don't make a sound.
You can peek through the door and see spot
running around the page, chasing his tail
and barking in the excitement that he's now more.
Oct 2020 · 280
Hand On His Head
Poetic T Oct 2020
They think that cos they wearing badges that
its power, feeling it be like they wild west.
          thinking they catching outlaws.

When they the ones letting the shots hit unarmed
                                           hands on his head.
but they not moving as he shouted gun.

It wasn't even a mobile, they just trigger happy
                       in blue as the family was in black.

Tears aren't bringing his last word back,
                       Mum, Daddy,
last cherished thought his baby girl.
Tears fell silent as they had knees on his neck,
                         what the **** he dead
yet you thinking he needs cuffs,
                                   morality took a side step.

No one is on their knee no more,
         hands held at height trying
to reach the fallen to show that they
still being reached for.

I promise we ain't forgetting any fallen,
       we'll reach high walking the streets.
   They ain't holding pistols to this many.

Hands-on heads showing peaceful metaphors,
          we shouldn't have to be scared
of a badge that's meant to protect
                               not a knee on a neck.

Or a gunshot on an unarmed person,
                   due to his demographical heritage.
                     another fell like a tree in a forest.

But every flower has a camera and nothing
falls silently anymore.
Oct 2020 · 272
Whispering Others Sorrows
Poetic T Oct 2020
She was silent a mute, or so they thought.
            Butterflies would frequent her abode.
Dancing around a kaleidoscope of words fluttering
around her, she was like a lantern in the dark
           and they seemed to be drawn to her.

But where colour was imbued above,
below in unseen hollow spaces,
                    there were remnant glimmers.
Fragmentation's of what was but deathly hues
enveloped in the frigid cadaverous silence.

There was no flying from where they'd fell,
                like autumn's leaves falling off the
tree of life now they were obscurity.

No one knew that she was able to talk,
          but she was an empath,
   collecting the negativity of those
                                           around her.

Everyone thought she was in a mood.
                   She'd just look at them with sad eyes.
But she played it cool to everyone around her.

They're all happy but she whispered all
             the woes of every word expelled,
she tried to play it cool..

But when she told the butterflies what she knew they
            feel frigid, cold.
   They wanted her company, but they hid under her
               bed hiding the depression that fractured

there every movement.

She always tried to show positivity,
     but the shards cut her feet underneath her

But above was rainbows where beneath the
                  fragmentation of emotions screamed.
Poetic T Oct 2020
I argue with you so much,
           I'll be no victim to your rules...

So why you preach that you'll be there
        when you ain't here,
two thousand years absent,
                                    Father problems..

No, you were never a father,
            more like a ghost of wishful thinking.

But I'm now not confused,
          I went through a depression,
But now I know the only faith I need is inward,
             I've been here before and
   I'm not playing by your verses.

Never letting ignorance lead me astray,
    Why do others think  I'm lost when
                                     in truth I'm
finally found..
Oct 2020 · 162
Oh, Shit
Poetic T Oct 2020
She never played by the rules,
          she asked me to hide.

I wasn't going to be the victim,
  shorty had a blade but I wasn't
    being  her fatality.

                    postcode, different rules.
Oct 2020 · 186
Not So Shiny...
Poetic T Oct 2020
We may give them all of us,
                          but they are cheap,
                             ******* around like were
worth 5 cents and not the diamond that we gave them.

But they end up broke,
                                broke up,
                 broke as there on the street.

Clothes on the pavement.
And we were richer without them, no ******* around,
                          begging like were paupers.

But were prosperous without them,
                            there begging on the street.
The only thing they get is middle fingers,
             and your trash your love isn't even worth

the 2 cents to recycle...
Oct 2020 · 230
Not Your Average
Poetic T Oct 2020
I never drove by that was the ***** way,
             half time trying to hit a wet spot blind.
or killing the time of those who were never
meant to fall...

Got honor between the lines, I'll stop the car,
              open the door, walk out suited
not you average gangster, look like the others
and no one running till I pulls out your
friend it anit here for a meet and greet.

More like say hello to, goodbye...
   you bleeding on the floor, I'm a good shot...
One to the chest, you fell now one to the head,
   you aint paid you bills now your blood
                                           stained in the wind.

Casually walking back to the car signing
         autographs of his followers.  
This meet and greets been productive,
   Family signing you off on the morgue...

I aint going to lie the only necktie I be
           tightening is yours...

Tied to a chair, if I need information,
   asking as politely with a ball hammer
                                   and some pliers...

I had a few mouths shout off,
now they walk the street silently,
  never **** disrespect.

Show what silence sounds like,
respect is fear
         and I'm the scarecrow in the

And you crows,
    you worm eaters ain't seen nothing yet..
Poetic T Oct 2020
Cursing like they diamond but
they don't even cut glass..
   Holding wraps of cash, but the top and
bottom be 50's but the rest is the monopoly
that they can't even pay...

They are burning rubber on the expense,
  but they rented, they dent...  
          Paying back on the record company.
You sold 50 thousand but you owe
                                                   a hundred grand.

They ain't going to shoot out you knee caps,
         there just going to gang-**** your voice..
Thinking you original, swallow that pride,
you one of there cash cows,  
           they milking you, can you say Moo!!!
******* around making the milk sour.

They'll just pressure bolt you
lobotomized, on the industry you either overdose,
             or working at KFC..  

Think you had grills now sold off to pay
the rent, the only thing you can afford is
a tin foil grill and you only cooking,
                                                 is burgers...

"Hi sir can I take your order,
Oct 2020 · 279
Drive By Baby Swinging
Poetic T Oct 2020
Pushin my baby on the swing each one way,
        Bullets passing the wind not punching
me and my baby. But the fools be running
like they could outrun fate.

They can't escape the crosshairs of
  ill-prepared revenge.  
    Cadavers hit the floor blood outlines
that turn white after they felled.

I kept pushing my youth, hoping
she'd grow to an age where she
           could push her own.

But every day I playing Russian
   roulette with her swinging,
    me pushing her further so that
she's higher than the gunshots

          as they always hitting lower.

Today I was pushing her, she in her nikes,
     swinging her higher than death could
catch her tight grip...

But my neighbor she hanging low, catching
two unfollowed friend requests  flying through
the air, one in the thigh, one between the thoughts,

I kept pushing as her shadow swallowed by her
folding on the floor, her baby swinging slower
but still alive.

         Blue took her to her daddy, hope they
find out who they are as she had more than
           one by another man...

I m still here pushing my baby on a silent playground.
      No one comes here, that's good for me.
   pushing her low as there isn't a problem
of drive-bye byes... No more *******, no one to ****.
                  There is just me and my baby pushing..

Come on baby its time to go home,
                 the road is white, and we aren't
going to our usual place...

R.I.P to those who never didn't do nothing.

Another drive-by, grills smiling as flashes
greeting shaded window frames,
                                          hanging low.
Oct 2020 · 294
Poetic T Oct 2020
Life is not wealth but

For wealth can easily be lost.

   But moments always last a lifetime.
Oct 2020 · 638
Mean So Much More
Poetic T Oct 2020
People think,
    "I Love You,

is the most romantic

But in truth,
          "I've Missed you,

means true love.
Oct 2020 · 719
Summer Strings
Poetic T Oct 2020
She was so, what's the word I'm looking for?
  not *****, some would say submissive.
There is no way she was that, more *******.
But she never let it show, she'd have a way of
controlling the situation to make you think you
        were in charge...

How could I explain it? more like your in a desert,
         thirsty and see a fountain in the distance.
Running towards it your strength disperses,
  and you believe what you see even though your
            swallowing the passing of time.

Even as you choke, you still believe you've
quenched your, I mean her thirst.
          If she was poker, she'd have the winning
hand every time...

So back to the moment at hand, she was so dam
         rough, I had scratches that looked like I'd
had a sleepover at Elm Street.
I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it...
I liked it when she made me trickle.

That itch while at work, as my back
was healing, it turned me on knowing
that she still lingered even though we
weren't near.
       She had this suffocation issue,
but it was kinker than just naked...

It was in a summer dress,
                    and only in the summer.
Like she was seasonal?
I'd lift her dress up. she was pantiless.
           But before that, my hands were even
within her thighs, she was damper than
the grand canyon dry around the edges,
       but between she flowed...

There was no finesse it was all or nothing,
     no gentle hands, deep and hard were her ways.
She knew what she liked. But like a drug,
Its strength diminishes over time,
and the thrill was now near non-existent.  
And a frustrated woman isn't one to be trifled with.

So we got others involved, ones that had
the same suffocating view on life.
Constricted on the normality of ***.
The first one, ***. It was embarrassing.
  We'd guest they were more inquisitive
         than had done it before.

We'd had them sign a waiver on the obligation
of what it entailed. A few drinks later,
Ok, more than a few and it was a melting ***
         of flesh, we were all over each other.
      She strangled my other half one-handed
constricting her flow of air, the other fingers
in her mouth being ****** erotically.

I'd never thought of how ****** this would be,
it didn't matter that it was a woman,
the fact she was arching so much.
All because of another stifling her breath.
                    I had my fun though I was deep
in the other,  **** deep as she didn't want to
be penetrated in her flower, she likes her petals clean??
   My other half could see me over the other'ss shoulder.

Enjoying the fact of both woman were in my bed,
              I was getting close, and then it changed.
She saw that I was about to pleasured by another.
Her hands clasped around our new acquaintance.
For such a petite figure she had a grasp like a clamp.

I felt her clench around my external offering,
           and the smile off my other, it was suffocatingly  
pleasurable. All three of us slumped at the same time.
The bedsheet was drizzly with the fulfillment
  of all three of us. I'd never experienced such a
moment, it was unexplainably fulfilling.

We rested for a moment, and then as I pulled myself
from this sweaty gathering, I needed to ***.
I know wow how romantic, But you open a valve,
waters going to pour eventually.
   Walking back to the bed all smiles.
     She looked at me with fear, but with a hint of
"She's dead,

                            "What dead tired?

  "No you ****-wit, as in you just pleasured
yourself up a corpse you necrophilic *****...

I laughed, as I jumped into bed thinking she
was hoaxing me. But she wasn't moving.
  Holy crap that was an ****** to die for??
  She looked at me sheepishly, no not really I got
kind of confused, she was strangling me and i
was so turned on.

But then I saw you about to lift off, and I didn't
like the fact that it was in another and not me.
So I tightened my grip, I heard her throat crunch
under the pressure, and she came,
either in exhilaration or that she'd just died...
Is it wrong that it was a multiple's!!

I've had doubles with you but that,
                                               I'm still twitching.
Oh' not to the fact that there was a dead blonde
in our bed. But the fact she had a multiple with a dead
woman on top. I brushed that thought away as we
had more concerning things,

I said to her,

"Do we phone the police,
             she signed the waiver?

"Do we phone the police!

  She said in a sarcastic manner raising her brow,
I could never do that dam thing, she was like
a **** trekky when she did that Mmm..
        I'd live long and **** the **** out her in
that cosplay outfit, pity I broke the ears last time.

Crap, I'm getting distracted.

I  could see where she was ******* from,
       why the hell does the dead woman have
***** *******,  whoops my toothpick just
became a great redwood again.

Are you getting stiff off seeing a dead woman's
******* you freak? They are kind of just there,
As she lent across and licked them.
         Oh, there cold, she looked at me
in her I'm ***** look.  We shouldn't waste an
opportunity really, as she opened her legs
and maneuvered her so she could scissor her.

What you waiting for, put your piece in her gob,
her mouth cold against it, but moist enough
that I face ****** her till we both got close
            kissing each other and ******* at the same
time, wow that was intense,
                                        we both sheepishly smiled.

We both got in the shower, the bed damp still from
                  when all three were breathing but her
head slumped to the side and you could see it dripping
out her mouth as if she was sleeping and  drooling
                       on the pillow.. that's gross.

After we were all cleaned up, we had to decide
what to do, the police wasn't an option.
   We'd watched enough dexters to know that
cutting her up was going to be way too messy..
And last time I got a paper cut I fainted.

Grabbing some cling film out the cupboard I started
To wrap her up, beforehand we went to the store
and brought 15 liters of bleach. I used a kitchen
a utensil  with a short straw-like funnel and proceed
to bleach the inside of her ****.. and gave here a detol
mouth wash, we put the rest in the bath and put
her in there, she hadn't started decomposing and
rigor mortis wasn't overly making her stiff like a plank
so she easily sank to the bottom.

After lunch we let the water out, god she looked clean.
But her eyes had become white, like ghost white
staring at me, like she'd known what we did to her.
I tried closing her eyelids but they wouldn't shut,
so I used a permanent marker to color them in..
   What was I thinking, now she looks ****** possessed.
Drying off was like a ritual we were gentle and making
sure her hair was brushed nicely.

Then with the 6 boxes of cling film, we wrapped
her up nice and tightly.
Crossing her arms over her chest seemed like
a nice thing to do. You never realize when
someone says dead weight, just how heavy that is.
We did that nursery rhyme as we threw her in the boot,

A leg and a wing to see the king and yeet...
    I gave her a 7.5 for landing. As we drove off
we took the map out, using sat-nav was a no, no
as we could have our steps traced back.
   There was an old coal mine just twenty minutes
away, what was cool was that there was an opening
that was so deep but not many knew about it.

I know how convenient is that. We parked up and
we knew we'd have to be quick so I slung her over
my shoulder, walking along I got really damp?

"Babe, what the hell is going on?
                     "Is she peeing on me?

I started to gag, but then the bleach smell hit!
       Phew! she was leaking bleach all over my jeans.
Thank **** for that, I knew these were going
to be burnt later anyway and had a spare pair in
the boot just in case. What I come prepared.

As we got to the opening a couple was standing there
throwing a rolled-up rug down the hole?
we both just looked at each other, what's up?
What's up with you?
We just smiled and dropped our cling film roll
down the same hole. they pulled a knife we pulled
a baseball bat out.

Look, we know what we've both done,
   and if we walk away now you, we,
well neither of us will get hurt or have to throw the
others down that hole. How about the saying.
You didn't see it, so it didn't happen,?

They walked off, we walked off calmly.
That went a lot better than I thought as I laughed.
But just as we got to the car we heard a twig snap
right behind us, out of instinct I swung hard
catching him square in the temple.
as he fell he landing on his accomplice.
She was screaming Oh'my god help me..

My other half leaned over her, foot on her wrist
pulling the knife out her hand.. What were you
going to do with this then.

            "*******, she yelled.

No how about I mouth *******,
and with that, she raised the knife up
and shoved it into the hilt of her mouth.
God, i love this woman.
   As she lay there gurgling..
I mean the noise was nasty..
  So she just trod on her throat and silence.

We looked at each other, and started kissing,
    and before you knew it we had steamy windows
handprints visible to what had perspired in here.
As we got redressed and the tension now reduced
we dragged these two both to the hole.
I mean  my girl just grabbed his feet and like
luggage threw him in. She's so awesome.

You do realize we got from accidental murders
to nearly serial killers now.
And you know what it was such a turn on.
     I must admit we were both turned on by death.
We found their car and drove both down the country
lanes making sure that cameras were nowhere near.
We burnt it out, but not before doing donuts in a field
to make it look like joyriders had stolen it..

After that, we had plenty more lovers, false addresses
to entice, and snare our next lover into false security.
We got tech-savvy as well, in the car we had a scrambler
that blocked their mobiles. most didn't even notice
they lost signal, some did and were over-cautious
                   If they didn't come then unlucky them.

But we remembered that everything was to happen
in the bedroom. Gosh that coal mine is now a mosh pit
of broken voices, that crunch just as we orgasmed.
  That never got old, as everyone was different some
***, others ****** them selfs, that was new and gross.
But luckily we had mattress protectors on and plenty
more in the cupboard. To date, we must have made
love and silenced at least 12 over the last few years.

Only in the summer though,
  and the dresses, god she looks so hot...

Got to go through as our new friend
just turned up in guess what in a summer dress
of all things.
           We just looked at each other and smiled.
Poetic T Sep 2020
I wish every day was a Friday,
that seven-day repetition that
        I no your walking through
my door, no looking back...

Were here all night a 2.5 fraction
of a week where theres just me
             and you, just us....

Runing a 4.5 day missing you
    to a weekend of just us
through the minutes to hours
            to the where did this
                                    weekend go.

The alram sounds, then the race
             to the end of the weekned
starts,finishing as we count mistakes
     of days that we catch on to a friday.

Your here now, were sorry I missed you,
              but the weekend is ours..
  no leaving, were just us, me and you.

            I've missed more than just your body,
           missing your breath on me,
                but now were here in this moment,

long live every weekend when your next to me.
Sep 2020 · 348
Clutching Pillows
Poetic T Sep 2020
I never wanted to change the sheets,
    as I always smelt you even though

you weren't there.

I loved you from the distance,
             from a kiss from you to us.

But I knew that I needed you to know,
          that I was here even though
you weren't between the pillow
           and sheets keeping me warm.

Sleeping without you, clutching the
             the cusion that had
                        you head rested

next to mine..

Closing my eyes I'd imagine you looking
               lost into mine.
Breathing deeply I feel a moment
       when you loved me.

I felt lost till you were next to us,
       we weren't apart.
      But I lost you every time you
             closed the door.

But now you're next to me, no longer
               cuddling pillows of dreams
I  have the real thing, you next to me.
Sep 2020 · 218
Crucified For Loving...
Poetic T Sep 2020
You were  my cross,
    stigmatised for loving


  But I'm crucified
for loving him.
Poetic T Sep 2020
When I'm down the sun never
seeks the sky.
                          Just a dullness
that hovers  beyond the grasp
              of my need to rise above

my pain...

I only needed that ray to hit upon my

                         I need to not hurt like
before, I cant keep this smile aloft..

It's falling like a shooting star,
   bruised when it hit the ground
             never again found.

   I'm dwindling like the stars caught
                 between the dawn and nightfall.
But never
            a light flickering before its
radiance is just an echo like me..

You'll find me, that star that fell,
        but never wished upon.

Just cold never seen,
               here but missed,
   as I fell from a moment of height
  to a place where I'm low and alone.
Poetic T Sep 2020
We spend to many fractions

taking away or adding up the

Times are incomplete,
          but we must always
divide every moment so that

everything adds up to the equal
                         breath that we aren't

in control.

But we are but numbers,

                in an equation of now.
Sep 2020 · 142
And Always Smile
Poetic T Sep 2020
May the future never be a sprint,
           but a smile

as that which you cant walk through
       can be traversed

with but a gracious glimmer
              of hope.

And smile :)
Sep 2020 · 137
Little Pricks Need Love...
Poetic T Sep 2020
If you masturbated a hedgehog,
which ***** would you
                make stiff first..

And how many schlongs
                      could you handle at once..

Wow thats deep....
Poetic T Sep 2020
We are just words that sing upon the page,

                                       but some never touch.
Singing in our thoughts.

Repetitive and with meaning, but never
                       do we write a word for us to cling too.

Always humming that repetitive metaphorical tune,
                          that  completes a hum down the line
                                  to a verbose culmination

and we still hum it even now further down the line.
Sep 2020 · 154
A pebble never felt
Poetic T Sep 2020
We ponder upon the emotions and metaphors
                                    of the meaning of forever.

Is it our wording our voice, is it a single verse sang
                            within tune with out a tune

that holds our meaning to the here after.

What is out contribution,

      do we sing or justly fade.

For we weren't a stepping stone,
               but a pebble that got buried in the sand.

Now but lost in the footsteps that never even felt us.
Sep 2020 · 115
Oh Nuts
Poetic T Sep 2020
A squirrel offered me
              a *******.

But just fondled my
            Nuts the whole time ..
Sep 2020 · 119
Covid Masturbation
Poetic T Sep 2020
I'm Covid safe,
                when I *******.

I use a  Dettol Wet wipe,
  kills 99.6% cheese...

And 99.99% Covid

   stay safe you wankers...
Sep 2020 · 671
Oral metaphors
Poetic T Sep 2020
I ******* words
     And *******
.     Stanzas..

And my *** face
      Is the ecstacy

Of the pleasurable
        After thought.

Is anyone else hungry...
Sep 2020 · 142
She likes fishing
Poetic T Sep 2020
She ad this hobby fishing with
    A pole.
      No worms wanted

Dats a fact.

I played it cool rod in da pond,
  That became a pool.

  Waves splashing out.
     Rod didn't catch nything..

But the fish were swimming
    Deep now.  

And we just smiled,
       Who need bait

When the rod catches

    Her every time.
Poetic T Sep 2020
A poet is an insane asylum
     Of disfuctinal metaphors.

We're all a little crazy,
   How else could we

Write the things we do.
Sep 2020 · 245
Little blue marble
Poetic T Sep 2020
We are on a marble
                Of finite cracks.

Let us not be the ones,
     To shatter the purity

That holds the uniqueness
   Of every thing together.
Aug 2020 · 157
Magic With You
Poetic T Aug 2020
You were the spell,
              I was the words

and together we created

Aug 2020 · 164
Dirty Under pants
Poetic T Aug 2020
Never wear another's

Because even though
  you cant see it..

There will always be an odour, stain
      that marks your every movement.

And the only blemish will be on you,

           cos you choose to wear
                         another's pants.

Its not the same as there shoes,
     your just weird wearing there
***** underwear.
          worse of all you showed
  everyone them
           who does this anyway.

You were meant to be a friend,
           but you told everyone
what was in there underwear...

          the metaphor lost to some,

so wear some shoes instead..
Poetic T Aug 2020
I'll burn you all like your stumps,
          cutting you lower than you define.

You thought you were surpassing
         maturating high with fake

                               terminology that

        never matured more than a seed
                      of contemplation.

Your dead before you reach my height,
                limp stumps brittle to the flow

of my breath..

windswept failings, your just a seed
                dead in the wind of change.

But the only thing you fall is fake...

          I'll grow beyond your seeds of discontent.

           Watch my syllables plant in the young,
                    growing in height that you never

clipped, every word is nourishment that is
                neither an ego to grow.

But I1'l grow with every sentence read.
         your my wind, gusting me to new

Ground to fertilise the metaphors of nourishment
              that i feed to the masses, no pesticides
                   were used in the growth of this word.
Aug 2020 · 146
I`m Used To It
Poetic T Aug 2020
Wasn't the one that fit in,
   table to myself, an ocean
                          of pressed wood

that I float on alone....


    You know there's always a but,

Never really wanted
       my life raft of solitude.

I just look up and know
no one to obscure
       my view of life...

My ocean is a fishery of thoughts,
                                  that are mine.

Swimming into
  uncharted life choices...

But I'm fine alone,
I'll talk to the fishes
every now
and then.

But throw them back

I've finished with them..
Aug 2020 · 230
Toffee Nipples
Poetic T Aug 2020
Sticky pips coated,
    Groping this Apple

No biting only licking

     Teasing her with

My tongue..
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