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Which takes us on a direct path to:
THE  INCIDENT.
Say you are a normal man—whatever that means—
But say it’s late June of 1993 and you’re laying on the couch,
Scratching your *****, trying to intuit your LDL level
Based on the two bowls of the Old Lady’s Cholesterol Chowder.
The Old Lady-- you can call her Peg or Mrs. Bundy—
Served it up in her special legacy china,
An assortment of recycled tin foil casserole dishes &
Vintage melmac handed down by your mother-in-law.
You are on the couch giving digestion your best shot,
Still scratching your agates when Peg comes
In from the kitchen with your second glass of
Two-buck chuck and a smoking fatty she’s just ignited,
Miraculously without burning the house down.
The TV is on—the TV is always on because
The TV has had no off button since 1984
You are tuned to the CNN evening news &
A report comes on that makes you sit up,
Snap to attention, straight up and take notice:
"WOMAN CUTS OFF HUSBAND'S *****!"
The media shrikes in Atlanta have your attention now,
Your complete attention;
Your eyes are riveted to the telescreen &
Your blood pressure spiking at 240 over 140.
During the previous night of June 23, 1993,
John Wayne Bobbitt arrives at the
Couple's apartment in Manassas, Virginia,
Highly intoxicated after a night of partying.
According to testimony given by Lorena Bobbitt
In a 1994 court hearing, he then rapes her.
Afterwards, Lorena Bobbitt gets out of bed,
Goes to the kitchen for a drink of water.
According to a journal article in the
National Women's Justice & Defense
League of Psychotic Castrating *******,
While in the kitchen she notices,
A carving knife on the counter & "memories of
Past domestic abuse races through her head."
Grabbing the knife, Lorena Bobbitt enters the bedroom
Where John is sleeping & proceeds to
Cut off nearly half his *****,
Half his Johnson,
In this instance aptly named.
So you have some schnook who’s named
After the iconic Hollywood superstar John Wayne . . .
Now understand something, John Wayne—
The ******* Duke of Earl--
Personifies everything alpha male:
Physique, animal magnetism & a pair of
Huge ***** swinging in his chaps as
He sashays across the screen.
In real life he’s a bullfight & cigar aficionado,
A big game hunter and sport fisherman, &
A hard drinking Hemingway hero
Who spends most of his time aboard
A customized WWII U.S. mine sweeper
******* to a pier behind his house in
Newport Harbor, California.
He’s the proverbial man’s man, &
There’s no one like him in America
Until maybe Eastwood or Willis comes along.
There’s a statue of him out in front of
The Orange County Airport that bears his name.
I have a photograph of him hanging in my garage
Next to a Mad-Dog 20-20 poster.
But I digress.
We return to the Bobbitt story because
It gets better, keeps getting crazier.
After assaulting her husband,
Lorena leaves the apartment with the severed *****,
Drives around aimlessly for a short while,
Then rolls down the car window &
Throws the ***** into a field.
Only then does the loony ***** realize
The severity of the incident.
She stops and calls 911.
After an exhaustive search by
Volunteers from the local Humane Society,
The ***** is located, packed in the ice-slurry of
A banana-flavored 7/11 Slurpee, &
Taken to the hospital where half-**** John Bobbitt
Gets a short-arm inspection and treated,
Mostly for shock and awe.
His ***** is later reattached by Drs. James T. Sehn &
David Berman during a nine-and-a-half-hour surgery
Filmed by Ken Burns and broadcast in its entirety by
WGBH Boston, a stunning illustration of
Your tax dollars hard at work
At the National Endowment for the Arts.
An abridged version later becomes the season premier of
"Girls Gone ******* ******, Manassas!"
Lorena goes on Oprah to explain herself.

Lorena Bobbitt ((née Gallo) was born in Ecuador.
Her maiden name, ironically,
Means **** in English.
Sheriff Joe Arpaio in Phoenix had this to say:
“Deport the *****. She may have an INS green card
But there’s no way she had a government permit to
Go around lopping ***** off in Virginia or any other state.
Who does she think she is, Janet Napolitano?”
Napolitano could not be reached for comment.
Shortly after the incident, episodes of "Bobbittmania,"
Or copycat crimes, were reported.
The name Lorena Bobbitt eventually became
Synonymous with ***** removal.
The terms "Bobbitt Punishment" and "Bobbitt Procedure" gained
Social cache with a radical break-away sect of N.O.W.
COPYCAT Catherine Kieu Becker, 48 (Garden Grove P.D.)  
Woman Accused of Cutting Off Husband's *****
Pleads Not Guilty/ VIDEO: Watch Jennifer Gould's Report
KTLA News   10:40 a.m. PST, February 3, 2012 /SANTA ANA, Calif.
"A 48-year-old woman accused of cutting off
Her husband's ***** and putting it
In the garbage disposal has pleaded
Not guilty to all the charges against her.
Catherine Kieu, of Garden Grove,
Was indicted earlier this month on
One felony count of torture &
One felony count of aggravated mayhem.
She also faces a sentencing enhancement for
Practicing surgical medicine without a license."
Sign up for KTLA 5 Breaking News Email Alerts
Comments (130) Add / View comments | Discussion FAQ
Happy627 at 10:35 PM January 18, 2012
"So my x-wife is a violent drunken *****?
Never once did I ever think of hurting her
But now I see I was wrong.
Vengeance's is the true answer & payback is hell.
So basically I should put an M-40
In her *** and light the fuse.
I should be acquitted from any wrong doing
Because she was a violent drunken *****.
Maybe all men should do this to their
Violent wives/girlfriends & teach them a lesson.
Cyanmanta at 1:10 AM January 11, 2012
In response to Doreen Meyer:
"So you're assuming that because he was the victim
He must have done something to deserve it
In some small way?
Typical of convenient feminism:
Assume all female victims are innocent &
Pure as driven snow,
While dismissing all male victims
With the idea that 'he had it coming.'
I wish I could pander shamelessly
To the media for preferential treatment,
But sadly, I am male (or as feminists would say)
The Evil Gender."
Westfield at 5:47 PM Jan.09, 2012
She should get her own show on the ***** channel.
(Bravo). KABC radio's John Phillips & his girlfriend
Nathan Baker would love to watch it."
Sluff it off, take a load off, baby.
Take a load off?
“Take a load off Annie,
Take a load for free;
Take a load off Annie, and
Bom bom bom bom
Bom be bom— & Dddddddddd,
You can put the load right on me.”
Send “The Weight” Ringtone to Your Cell

. . . Snipped, fixed, neutered, gelded,
Emasculated, eunuchized, or castrated?
(Castrating Forceps  (www.alibaba.com/
Showroom/castration-tool.html).
Bobbittized!
Daniel Dec 2017
Gusto ko ng panibagong balat.
Iyong maputi at makinis.
Mala porselana,
Na halos kuminang tuwing masisinagan ng araw.
Kabisado ko ang bilang ng araw,
Na ginugugol sa ilalim ng araw kakabanat.

Ngunit,
Ang panibagong balat,
Hindi nito ako kayang protektahan, alam ko.
Lilimitahan lamang nito ang mga nalalaman ko.
Ngunit,
Sa panibagong balat, nais ko magsimula.
Kilalanin at kalimutan ng halos magkasabay,
Ang imahe ng nakakadiri kong balat.

Bilang ang peklat.
Sukat ko kung gaano kalalim ito,
Noong sugat pa lamang.
Kaya ko gusto ng bagong balat para pagtakpan ito.
Baka sakaling iwasto ng bago kong balat,
Ang mga naimali ko.

Makikilala kaya ako ng ibang tao,
Sa bagong balat na suot ko?

Marahil hindi,
sana hindi,
panigurado hindi.

Nais kong magtago,
Sa paraan kung paano ako lulutang ng hubo't hubad.
Nang hindi ko na itatakip,
Ang aking palad sa aking dibdib,
Dahon sa ibaba ng puson.

Isisigaw ko ang salitang "PUTA!" ng napakalakas,
Halos magsisilabas
Ang mga putang mismong makakarinig,
At yayakapin ko sila.

Dahil bago ang balat ko, ito'y mainit.
Kumpara sa nahamugan kong balat kagabi.
Malinis,
Kumpara sa balat kong may dampi ng mabahong laway.
Mabango,
Kumpara sa mumurahing aficionado na nahaluan
Ng pawis ni Ricardo kagabi.

Bagong balat.
Ibebenta ko ang luma kong balat,
Sa gabing ito.
Bilhin mo ang aking balat.

May panibago bukas,
Pag-asa, hamon,
Mantikilya sa loob ng pandesal.

Gamit ang luma kong balat,
Makakabili pa ba ako ng bago?

Magkaiba ang bagong uri sa bagong palit.
Ang balat ko, nalaspag na.
Tulad ng puti kong damit,
Hindi na ito puti.

Marumi ang titig ko.
Marumihin ang aking naisuot.
Ang balat ko ay puno ng mantsa,
Ngunit bago ang aking suot ngayon, bagamat,
Iisa parin ng uri.

Balat na nakalaan para ulitin ang pagrumi at
Yurak sa puti kong suot.
Bagong balat, kulay puti.
Wala na akong maisuot.

Hubad na ang aking puri.
Hindi ko masuot ang salapi.
Magkano pera mo? Tara?
Nais mo bang makita ang aking balat?
Itong tulang ito ay patungkol sa prostitusyon. / This poem tackles prostitution.
Chris T Jan 2014
My girlfriend
Recently
Moved in with me
So she decided
To call her friend,
Who was also
A close friend of mine,
For a couple of beers
In the now 'our' house.
Carmel Scotts
Arrived, knocked,
At around 9,
And girlfriend let him in
And his motorcycle
Sat outside near my
****** old car.
He was a skinny
Ill skin tone guy
Due to his being a
Poppy aficionado,
And he dressed
Like he belonged at
A London punk rock
Concert in the early 80s.
He came in
With his huge mohawk
Flipping God and the system off
And his boots
Knock knock knocking
On Satan's roof.
'Sup' 'Sup' 'Beer?'
'Yeah man, of course'
And we drank and drank
And the now 'our' clock's hands
Moved and struck
12.
We were quite drunk.
I put on
That record
By The Stooges
That we loved
And went to take a ****.
When I came back
Iggy was moaning about
Some Deathe Car
While on the now 'our' floor
Carmel crouched
Like a tiger
Above girlfriend's opened legs
As she too moaned
Being eaten alive by
the now 'our' friend.
They were really going at it
And didn't notice I was back.
I was mad,
Really ****** mad.
I was about
To slam him
Off girlfriend and beat him
To a pulp
When suddenly, I woke up.
I remembered
That I don't have a girlfriend,
(I never have had one)
And I don't have a punk friend
(Or any friend really).
So from mad
I turned sad
And got drunk without both of em.
Just for fun. I wrote this at 1:30am. It's funny in my opinion. Haha, I really don't have friends, I've never had a gf but I use that fact to be funny. Carmel Scotts was actually my imaginary punk friend from when I was a lonely 8 year old, I don't know where you are, Carmel, but I miss you and you can eat out my gf any time, bro!
K Balachandran Jul 2013
They made an elephant paint,
              using reward and punishment, method
marvelously created paintings!
                that success made world headlines!!
*******, yet another folly of human creation,
                 let me tell you the truth, kept hidden.
Angry for not getting coconut fronts,
              generously supplied in other occasions,
the elephant just pretended the brush was palm front substitute,
                the paint kept  in front, to him was dung to play with.
          The shapes of his hunger turned  to accidental art,
it wasn't his fault,  poor guy, his canvas cries out!
Trevor Gates May 2013
Welcome to tonight’s show

Allow me to introduce myself.

I go by many names


Some of which, you may know
But those do not need to be mentioned
a howl, a moan, a scream, a summoning
Let’s keep this interesting.


This is the midnight calling
This is the raven cawing

This is the shadow lurking
And the jackals slurping

The demons wailing
While Charon is sailing,

The Acheron
The river
The first

The Eternal song
Of dripping livers
and Thirst

Stop

This is all confusing
And amusing
To some
And many
But to me it is painful

Demeaning
Putrid
Repugnant
Detrimental
Disturbing

And

­A subjective simmer of passivity
A pious dose of sheer calamity

Once upon a time

In a land past the desert
Was a neon capped city
Devoid of hope

And shaped by
Casual nihilism

And too much money

A powerful portrait in all its brevity
The display of sweltering people melting against the asphalt
The mucous sunscreen and coarse sand between the toes

And crooked nails
And bleached hair
And coffee stained teeth
And pink nails
And Gucci purses
And Versace dresses
Shutter Shades
Corvettes
$5 lap dances

And promiscuous preteen slaves
To MTV
VH1
Pop sensations
Internet ****
Social networks
Smart phones
Model rock stars
Models
Interviews
Auditions
Mundane seductively
For him
Or she
The nepotistic aficionado

of  

Delicious, robust, superb, disdain  
*******: Nose Candy
******: Snake venom
After Parties: ******* adrenaline
***** Film tryouts: Garage studio
LSD: Acid
Plastic: Lips, skins, *******.
24/7
Hits of E
X-T-C

and

Do you have change for a hundred?
Or a change for a life?

Cites in Dust
Thank Siouxsie and the Banshees; A carnival.

Shout
Tears for Fears, they’re Head over Heels

Love will Tear Us apart
From Joy Division, who claims she’s lost control

Los Angeles
“X”
Exene and Billy Zoom’s Wild Gift.

The perpetual rise of sunset rockers and Neon knights.
Teens crawling through the muck of socialites and incubator nightmares
Civil borders wired by racial slurs and salivating bigotry
Water replaced by blood
Spit interchanged for souls
And fire traded for icy methamphetamine

Warriors and survivors

Poets and dreamers

Shooters and inhalers

Geeks and groupies

Burnouts and Dropouts

Sweet dreams are made of this



Such a show, such a show! Bravo Bravo! Thank you, thanks to all I have time to thank: Martin Sheen, Julius Ceasar, Fender Guitars, Randy Marsh, elbow pads, Chuck Berry, Al Green, X, Joy Division, Tears for Fears, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Less than Zero, Alucard, Humphrey Bogart, Grace Kelly, Daryl Dixon, George Harrison, Brad Pitt, Rooney Mara (Love you), Belstaff, Emma Watson (Love you too), Laure Heriard Dubreuil, Manolo Blahnik, Hannah Murray and Michele Abeles.

So many to mention, so little time. We’ll be back.
This is one of my favorites I've done so far in this series. I had just finished reading Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis and watch Gregg Araki's films, The Doom Generation and Nowhere, which all three sum up the existentialism and merging rampancy of living in Los Angeles, California. An experience I will never forget.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2016
a quote from the movie "The Big Short"

~

*a screen provocation,
you laugh out loud,
mime hating yourself
that you are joiining in
tacitly acknowledges the truth
of abbreviated wisdom

you,
disguised minority of
modest disagreers,
c'mon, admission submission,
more truth in it
than deserving of argumentation

a one liner throwaway,
neatly designed,
leaves you disturbingly
probed,
thoughtfully tormented and
aroused

poetry just a vehicle,
your vice for revelation,
the critical door to open is this:

do people hate the truth?

inescapable reality
ironical probability,
truth well disguised,
in plastic shell of lying
from the Hollywood's would be poets,
an escapade from the escapists

let us not pretend
that you and I
uncaring, for by virtue of
your reading this, you are
poetry aficionado,
required to deny the lie,
and yet,
accept
the
granular view
that we are rising writing thru the wronged end of
a telescoping microscope

so I scare scar a tissue sample from my tongue
and the cells spell
this rejoinder:

all your lies are poems,
incomplete truths,
and that's why people hate poetry
fallow lain since
Jan . 2,
2016
until today
Neon Beaches Jun 2018
I’m a fanatic when it comes to finding ways to **** myself
A zealot of self destruction
Addicted to pain

The knife pulls me closer
It promises happiness
It shows me ecstasy within my blood

The bottle beckons
“Come in, have a drink. Forget”
It wraps me around it’s spindly fingers
Twiddles me around it’s thumb
“Forget”

My music
It tells me of worlds far away
Promises peace
A quick escape from anything


But now The bottle makes me remember
The music brings me closer to everything
And the knife no longer feeds me
It simply bleeds me

Because nothing compares
To my addiction
To you
Romantic Poetess Jan 2011
I am an aficionado
Of the Jazz band
That you are
The innovative music
That you are
The sense of freedom
Harmony,
Intensity
That you inspire
In me

I am a groupie
Of the jazz band
That you are
The passionate music
That you are
The sense of exploration
Improvisation
Syncopation
That you inspire
In me

I am an instrument
In the jazz band
That you are
The cool jazz music
That you are
The sense of connection
Metaphysical
Transcendental
That you inspire
In me
brandon nagley Sep 2015
i.

(DedPoet-aka-Ernesto L. Gonzales)
May god bless thee mine friend, man of honor, Heavensent;
Thy soul, may it be in peace, God's love cover's thee west to east.

ii.

(NvrMnd)
A poet of otherworldly mind, poetic of new aged times;
Dont let thy depression over cometh thy soul, be unbound, whole.

iii.

(Laurent)
a dear writer of inspiration, let thy writing be navigation; spread thine hope to foreign places, with love friend.

iv.

(Tropica)
Poetess of aficionado tenderness, splendidness guideth thee;
A poet of human qualities, an artist for love's recipe in all form.

v.

(Darlene Chavez)
Let thy darkness turneth into light, let the night turn to day;
Be not shackled to Misery's way's,, but knoweth God's with thee.

vi.

(Sara Murray)
A fan of the strange, a taste that hast meaning, caring and giving;
Reality mixed with dreaming, word's golden, gleaming to aloft.

vii.

(Sally A Bayan)
From the terra firma of mine queen, the most thoughtful, delightful being, an aura that screameth of all holiness aisle's.

viii.

(naǧí)
A native light, of old day's flame's, a bright tunnel beyond the pain's, a pathway to other places where faces art spiritual.

ix.

(damsel in distress)
A woman of talented word's, like Herb's, elixered and pictured;
Snapshot's art taken from thine view, with all sight in old truth.

x.

(Dreams of Sepia)
Writing of mysterious writing's. Though honest, inviting;
Exciting in thy new day's pages, anger love and saved for us all.

xi.

(SoulSurvivor)
A woman like an auntie to me, a woman of generation's who helpeth the blind to none god seeith, as thou art a friend!!!!

xii.

(SE Reimer)
Man of many technique's, giving hope and beauties when we art weak, thy word's speaketh of medicinal purposes for all to seek.

xiii.

(PoetryJournal)
Writing short lines. Beyond mankind; thine artwork is fine;
Making other's look again, rewind, thine design's art heaven.

xiv.

(Melissa S)
A mother from the place of alabama, with southern charm;
Writing southern song's, of southern scar's,, as well as smile's.

xv.

(Poetic Thoughts)
Thou lover of books, a enthusiastic being of singing;
Keepeth on with thy work's, let the earth shake on thy poetry.

xvi.

(Eddie Starr Poetry)
Let Christ continueth to work in thine life, showeth love as he taught, and forgiveness; thou shalt soon findeth thy wife!!!

xvii.

(Paul Gaffney)
A gentleman who liketh simple poetry, that hit's thee best;
A way of relieving stress is writing down daily thought's, great!!

xviii.

(Rosalind Heather Alexander)
Overcometh those whom leaveth thee due to thy faith;
There missing out on truth and God's grace, continueth in love!!!

xix.

(IvyB **)
A woman who knoweth pain, keepeth faith in trial rain's;
Keepeth held high, the mist is only a short period, as angel's wait.

**.

(NV)
Creature of sadness, in a world of madness, making sense of living; let lighting seraph's be thy giving, look aloft to hope.

xxi.

(Joseph Paris)
A man of many duo's, Chicago street walker, rebel era, man of many poetic mirror's, let thy beautiful reflection dance the city.

xxii.

(ThePoet)
Thy word's of hurt and screaming, of hope and dreaming;
Is Alive in all ourn spirit's, trust thy creator, let the light near it.

xxiii.

(PoetessLiz)
Poetry is thy vital force, poetry is thy life porch;
Thou art not so lonely as thou doth thinkest friend, we all careth.

xxiv.

(SG Holter)
A man of blossoming stanza's, lines of manna;
Holy old detail's, word's of holy grail highness.

xxv.

(susan)
Digging through the deepest thought's creating poetry;
Spread thy gospel, plant thy seed's, and let them spread around.

xxvi.

(Dawn S)
Also new to this site, welcome; spread thy foregone scripture's;
Like ancient Picasso picture's, thine painting's art priceless.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Dedication poem \part 2 new one...
xxvii.

(Ann M Johnson)
Woman, thine talk is unknown to many, giving all, leaving many in wonder and awe, continue to god and keepeth thy faith.

xxviii.

(Neex)
Thou calleth thy poetry beautiful ramblings in thy word's;
To all thy work is special, speaking it, it's heard dearest poetess.

xxix.

(Kenshō)
Bringing on a form of poetry we yearn, love and turn's;
To place's not seen, not dreamed, as thou giveth me a Smile.

***.

(Kenneth Irving MacPherson)
A designer master, a crafter of this life and ever after;
Writing of the definition of living, this to thee is mine giving.

xxxi.

(DaRk IcE)
A soul, bright, a delight to man and god, to cherub's with rod's;
Let not thine hopelessness turneth to dusk, looketh up, high !!!

xxxii.

(IcySky)
Friend from the beginning, we've laughed, had trending's;
The world's not yet ending, so let's continueth in the Lord's work.

xxxiii.

(Derek Devereaux Smith)
A mystery cometh from thy Lip's, like juice to mine tip's;
A succulent wording thou hath given me, making me lively.

xxxiv.

(Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul)
Writer of horror, and man's worst fear, bringeth the lightbulb near; as relate any being canst do with thee mine poe like friend.
Robert Ronnow Dec 2017
Late in life I struggle against my insignificance
When I should enjoy the freedom from performance before an audience.
Applause is happiness but if they withhold applause, embarrassment.
When Da Liu put me to work crunching hexagrams and spreadsheet
      numerology
Instead of ghost writing his books about t’ai chi for longevity
I was humiliated but freed. No need to interpret
The Chinese master’s wisdom or endure his disapproval.
All this happened in an apartment on 110th St. when I lived on 111th.
I wonder if Da Liu lived to 100 like he predicted.

Ken got me that job, old friend Ken
Who goes back all the way past high school to Thompson Junior High.
Tomorrow we’re eating pizza together in Troy.
We’ll recall Da Liu and also the painter and sculptor who had a room
In our apartment on 111th and a dog so intelligent it could walk off the
      leash
On the crowded streets of New York without an altercation,
And Zach Sklar, of course, journalist, communist and jazz aficionado
Who listened to Jo Jones and Paul Quinichette, Count Basie’s men,
Often as possible at the West End.

Trying to make sense on the trumpet, I was playing the streets for
      quarters, not much more
Than that sculptor’s dog, the sculptor’s name I wanna say
Was Mike Johnson and he was a man of few words and many women.
We had a major cockroach problem in that apartment and
The ceiling leaked in Ken’s room so he organized the neighbors
Against the landlord, into a tenants association.
We went to our daily disciplines like children of paradise or Da Liu who
      was already old by then.
When we meet for pizza it will be hard to hear now that I’m deaf
In one ear and Ken, whose name means knowledge, has trouble
      remembering some of the ancient, past taboos and practices.

To want to be famous is a silly goal for a man almost old as Da Liu.
Not the right motivation, better to shift your glances so slowly as to go
      unnoticed,
Labor for the success and happiness of others.
I’m still avoiding the deeper question
So today I ordered Da Liu’s books, perhaps the ones I worked on,
Because they offer assistance to others for further living.
Service to others, maybe that’s the key.

I pleasure in and treasure my insignificance,
It ought to be a great comfort to be so insignificant,
Being knowledgeable is the best defense against your insignificance, the
I Ching puts me in mind of my insignificance, exiled or
Sidelined to an insignificant role, insignificant and mighty happenings
Seem the same from my vantage aging gratefully, inexorably,
A way to learn your insignificance, freedom to have never been.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
brandon nagley Aug 2015
i

In the snowbroth, in the chill of the eve'
Mine aficionado inamorata shalt swoon me;
Under the gloss, of the ancient moss
Under the *******, overhead albatross.

ii

Thou art the apricity, when the wind bloweth cold
Thou art the castle, wherein is mine abode;
Thou art the rose, with none Thorn's attached
Thou art the night and day, a movie, stage, angel hatched

iii

Gorgonized, thou hath done to me
Directing me under thine foretoken;
Thine voice is quiet, though so captivating
Thy locution is so spiritual, liberating.

iv

Thou art a snoutfair, angel wing's, oriental hair
Freed I am, from the world of man, a perfected pair;
Thou maketh me want to do better in all of mine way's
I shalt loveth thee tommorrow mine queen, and more today.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
JDK Mar 2015
1.. A man obsessed with self-improvement. He only falls for women who make him "want to be a better man." He becomes that better man, then leaves them.

2. Horror aficionado who's obsessed with death; falls in love with women who are dead on the inside.

3, 4, 5, 6. A gay man falls in love with a straight man.
A straight woman falls in love with a gay man.
A straight man falls in love with a gay woman.
A gay woman falls in love with a straight woman.

7. A ****** falls in love with a **** star.

8. A strategic genius falls in love, then treats every action and word as maneuvers in some elaborate game that she has no idea is even being played. He loses.

9. A drug addict falls in love with anyone.

10. Momma's boy who hates his mother; only falls for women he can't stand.

11. Bored sociopath/criminal moves to a new town and tries to convince  the locals that he's afraid of everything (so that they won't suspect him of doing anything remotely dangerous). A woman who actually is afraid of everything feels bad for him and tries her best to comfort him. He falls in love with her.
12. Okay, so there's this guy right, and he's in love with the idea of monogamous and lasting love, but he's terrified of long-term commitment. Like, really freaking scared of it. So what he does is, he pretends to be terminally ill. He does all his research, shaves his head, takes the pills, coughs, walks with a limp - you get the picture. So this guy who isn't sick but plays the part of someone whose days are numbered, what he does is, he courts women who are actually terminally ill. These women fall in love with him and he gets married to them during their final days. They die, of course. They're terminally ill for chrissakes! He mourns them convincingly enough, but we all know that he's really thinking "what a relief!" After awhile, the ******* gets lonely again then he goes out and does it all over.
Now here's the twist: one of these girls that he's charmed; a sweet, lovely, dying girl that he gets hitched to, what she does is, she fully recovers from her illness soon after the wedding! It's a ******* miracle of modern science!

— The End —