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It still may be the creeper yet
You just can't tell and that's just as well
Cause if you knew you'd lose that bet
Just might be the creeper
I said it just might be the creeper

It just might be the creeper, slow in coming, soft and humming
Hitting ceilings, hurtin' feelings, feeling like you sold your soul to a
Brilliant confusion in an infinite illusion that goes on and on and on and on and on
Yes, my race-baiting people, the creeper this might be

When that creeper finds you he will open up your soul
He will show you where your third eye used to be and give you his own
Yeah that's a mighty fine creeper, Yeah that's a mighty fine creeper
Ya don't even know you're so high
Yeah, ya don't know cuz you're high

Well, baby, is it creeper yet?
Has it made you doubt you mind?
Were you running round in circles till it
Snuck up from behind you did it
Make a sound as if lifted from the ground
It finds it's way straight into the heart of everything you believe
Convinces you, you've been decieved
But don't be afraid of the creeper, darling
He ain't selling you nothing you don't want
Ya shake the hand of the devil
Ya say it's all on the level
So by God it's all on the level
In your mind
But you walked away and left it behind
It's been gone so ******* long
We all know she ain't ever coming home

I get lazy sometimes
In my body and my mind
I know I ain't the only
Complicated schizophrenic in the world
And I ain't the only one who
Loves me some creeper
Yes I loves me some creeper
I'm down with the creeper
Hope he's
Down with me

The hissing fan on my aging laptop
Sounds like a woman being tortured
With varying degrees of severity
It's beginning to sound like music to me

Baby, tonight would be a good night
For you to surprise me
I ain't been surprised in so long

This is the creeper speaking
Y'all have a good night, ya hear?
Andrew Parker Dec 2013
a poem i wrote briefly in homage to my legit airport creeper.
August 25, 2011

Face to face, definitely not a warm embrace.
Eyes on me, make me nervous enough to ***.

Creeper, Creeper.
Please don't follow me hoooome.
Creeper, Creeper.
Go stare at something of your ownnnn!
Azh Chinen  Apr 2017
Creeper?
Azh Chinen Apr 2017
Creeper,creeper on the wall,who's the strangest of them all?  I see you creeping through the leaves.you come up,and then you bite me on the knees.  Creeper,creeper on the wall,your the strangest of them all.
KAAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2016
A curling green tendril climbs from its’ birthing nest of rotting bird ****
The creeper wends its’ way up round and around the stalk of its’ slender tree host. Leading vigorously ever upward, it climbs toward the light of day. Upon bursting through to the sunshine, it explodes into a huge and suffocating dominance. Wrapping its’ leaders tightly together, writhing skyward, smothering all else. Blotting out the sun. Inhibiting its’ host tree, ultimately killing it ...and every other living plant located below it.

In late summer the creeper produces bunched, masses of frothy, green, seeded florets. Clouds of green plumed waxeyes flock en mass, to flutter, competing ravenously to feast on the banks of seed heads.
Once replete, with full crops, the tiny birds fly off to distant shaded woods there to indiscriminately drop their ****, unknowingly further spreading the insidious creeper pestilence.

I trudge through my wooded glades,
Indignantly I sever taproot after taproot with my trusty sharp blade
….and watch that creeper limply sag and die
With a glint of satisfaction in my grim and vengeful eye.

M.
6 February 2016
Foxglove farm, Taranaki, NZ
Robyn Dec 2012
Everyday I'm falling deeper
I stalk you like a creeper, creeper
Nothing can keep me away
EnderMen better stay away
I'll travel to the Nether for you
I'd **** the EnderDragon for you
I started with 10 hearts to spare
But now I couldn't really care
The only heart that's really crucial
Is the one I give to you
I've traveled deserts, plains, and seas
Fought cougars, Ghasts, and rotting zombies
I've looted desert temples and villiages
I am nothing but a pillagar
I'll love you until I'm very old
But its as hard to find you as a stronghold
I started with 10 hunger to spare
But now I couldn't really care
If you're hungry, I know what I'd do
I'd give all my food to you
Because I love you (Minecraft)
I really do
Cunning Linguist Mar 2015
Tongue in cheek I detest you
Hand over foot
Make a peep *****
And I promise I'll ****** you

Bad tact I'm a cesspool
Festering in the nestle of your daughter's
well developing *******
Everyday I follow her home from school

This unnerving pervert unearthing fervor
making ya catatonic &
giving your heart murmurs
Nurture the thought
It's just the tip
(Of the iceberg)

Gotta stir the paint before you make a mural
Ma'am, I'll purloin your ham purse until my burial
Don't be a sourpuss

It's final
I'm vile
And I swear I'm not a *******.

Want some candy?
Keith Wilson May 2017
A creeper once was planted,
On a cold North-facing wall,
The gardener wanted her to spread,
To cover the bricks and all.

In the weeks that followed,
She strove her best to grow,
But the sun was so unkindly
And the frost so cruel so.

Alas, one day a child at play
Broke off her slender stem.
'It's no use' she cried
'I'll never grow again.'

But she was so courageous,
A brave, hidden spirit she found
And started sending up new shoots,
Directly from the ground.

One day she got her just rewards,
For all her courage and strife,
The gardener came and transplanted her,
To start a brand-new life.

Now on a warm, South-facing wall,
Where the sun kissed her all day
And the gentle breeze caressed her,
She grew and grew away.

She grew so strong and beautiful
And when the tale is told.
Her crown of joy was autumn,
With her leaves tinged red and gold.

Keith Wilson . Windermere  UK  2017.
Ye who enter here, beware
Of wolves and mine shaft pits, take care
Or ye shall taste the bitter death
That comes upon the creeper's breath

Thy survival, on the good
Of other players rests
Upon thy house a naming sign
Each person must *****

And when night falls, take care that ye
Who stalk the halls at dark
Set up a light for ev'ry turn
A stick lit with a spark

A bone to catch a wolfie with
Some cookies fresh to eat
And in a furnace, toasty warm,
We have to roast our meat

To mine the caves and tunnels deep
To delve into the mountains
And when the water gushes forth
We then create the fountains

Sell your wares, o Cobbler man
I've melons many to spare;
An axe, a sword, a shovel stone
Oh? You like my hair?

Here we go, see yon moon rise
The world in the starry twilight
I have not seen the whole world yet
Would you take me there by starlight?

Unspoken fear; the creeper hiss
Blew up my trusty door
And now all manner of verminous things
Have crawled across the floor

If only I had a wolf to my name
Three bones to win his love;
Then he could save me from--I shudder--
The Enderman above.

No armor have I, nor sword of iron
Stone and wood are mine
The wooden stairs that lead up high
Tell me, who had all this time?
2013 ramblings.
vircapio gale Aug 2012
boasting of the god of love's attentions,
this magicweaver lures her prey--
conjures forth her whim
seeking quench of fickle thirst within
attempting avenues of guile
numerously failed, and baits another heart
to suit her object's mate,
whose favors hail from Shiva
unto dominion everywhere,
  except at forest hut where Rama--
with Sita --honeymoons in exile
having snapped the cosmic dancer's massive bow
to win her for his wife, yet bound
by family word to wilderness
  in elder-shade of mystic eagle
guarded by their builder,
brother Lakshmana, in whose absence Kamavalli comes
to woo the godlike archer for her own.

little bells on anklets ring--
from creeper snagged
as if in venery yearning,
urgent vines would find their way to rest on skin
and squeeze in verdant rooting underform
prancing by, playfully demure
to enter subdued greenery
of Panchvati's gated yard
to catch the stoic Rama's eye
in invitation flashing for his gaze:
a sculptured form of flawless grace
nubile teeth shining from the forest dark,
a smile unassuming of callipygean sway
beneath the flitting lashes of her iris' swell

baffled there he stirs to praise her openly
as perfect--
despite his inner-goddess-for-a-wife he keeps inside--
with tripping words
welcomes and blesses this new girl,
exalting her with blushing queries,
sylvan surging rush to know
interrogate her mystery,
rapt in wide-eyed wonder verging beatific breath--
but learning of her lineage...
begins to plot their deaths.

banter light,
flirtations with a hidden, cosmic weight to pun against,
his praise asserts its hold
pretending bachelorhood;
his kindly, transauthentic voice resists
and in a sympathetic, skillful tone, promulgates
a drama to entice her eager mind--
ironic fancies of domestic bliss
flow from Rama, subtle jests
become her plight obsessing
into darkness embered with her lust
to truly claim him as her love,
her grandiosity defused in simple
entertainment quipping of their castes
and then with sudden burst entranced in luminescent rays of stunning rustic glow
from cottage comes his wife to claim her presence known.

the blow is dealt: Manmatha lays Kamavalli's fate: to self-disintegrate

jealousy to deafen gods, in cave retreat
to nurse her spite, surrounded in a dance
of serpent flails to sate her woe,
and only feed in ouroboros knotslip pulse
a lump-filled throat of gulping incite forward zest salacious
pungent flare of earth identity of fang and blood
the cry to shudder down a wolfine howl
in blast of animal, from screaming womanhood
the swoon precipitate-- vast height, abysmal fall
on being spurned by one who led her on
into delusion wrapped in sham an alter self
she met in bed a thousand cravings razing sanity
into a hate for moon, for elements themselves,
railing at Manmatha's haze infernal globe within and out
projecting Rama's face transfixing her inept
in wracking convulse whine of every cell,
her being sweating out imagined arms,
palms of his to cup her, lift from hellish pit of stifled longing never known 'til volcanically regrown--
in new love's throws an innocence of honest
selfhood found in him, bizarrely enemied in Lila's
killing spree of ego-dolls of lotus costume tracing all
searching through his fresh phantasm for her quelling salve
his diamond ******* targets for her soul
his broadness engirthing her to moan until her last in ecstasy
unknown asura-brew untold invented only now forever lost,
the moment fondled vastly gone,
his chest but gossamer instead of flesh
the emerald shoulder glimmer fake
the boundless confidence exuded in his
tender skin's encapsulated sinew strength
merely thought on causing pelvic quake
repeating there an apparition for her nearly endless letting out
he comes for her a demon double of her making
demi-god creator-demon vision for her writhing,
abandoned to the ambrosia torment he provides
wailing at the cavern sky her prison boudoir den
enscaled with slither pile coat of snakes, masturbatory wake of swooning still again

through to dawn..
in which psychotic break decides:
Soorpanaka births herself anew--
possession of her goal, or suicide.
the dewy spectra shines reflection of the choice;
rave committal forms its mould--
exhaustion hatches colorspray of plots,
braving mutilation to abduct,
lies and bribes surmounting each before
in ****** propositions to her ever widened bed,
else demonic armies loosed,
infatuate Ravana's heart
with illusory snare of golden Sita's rumored wares
to get her man alone and hew derision
with her desperate charm, by cantrip or war
spawned from deeper lairs of a broken,
fallacious heart, toward matrimony
or destruction bent













.
Nomad Jul 2014
You're rather a private little creeper,
now don't get me wrong,
there's nothing better than a heavy sleeper,
but there's some thing rather right,
when you finally know you get to keep her.

The ring that spins,
all the way round her thin little finger,
and the looks she gives you when she becomes your favorite singer!
That blush she gives every time you make her laugh,
how you like the weirdest part about her,
from her nose and ears, to even maybe,
uhh....her calf?

Well my friend,
I must say again,
you're rather the private creeper,
since you know just about everything there is to know
about her!

But that's alright,
if it's legitimate,
because love should really be,
really be quite intimate.
moneysha Sep 2016
Creeper
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
                             thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
               thou provideth me space to creep
                    and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.

i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
             there was a calling i heard as a bud
                     and i knew the echo ran deep,
                            the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.

I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
      i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
           but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
                   so when i felt the wall next to me,
                       i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.

I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
        all around that wall, and,
           when i reached the top,
              yes the top!
                    i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to some sound sleep.
               The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
                     and seeds to sow of baby creepers
                                    who could learn from me about the trip.
            
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking up to me
       and felt all excited to start their journey on HOW TO CREEP.
inspired from THE SEAGULL
Leal Knowone  Feb 2015
Creeper
Leal Knowone Feb 2015
none other, than the creeper

like none of this is burning around me
i feel the flames as there rising
trail of death, now you found me
im the prince of lies but im trying

to **** off all that is painfully dying inside
thats within me, around me, and within my mind

****** the marrow from my bones
cant let it multiply
inject the life back into me
i do not wish to die

i am the devil & im looking for
residence in something i am the faun

— The End —