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K R W Jan 2016
If only I grew some *****,
Life would be so much easier...

K R W
Matt Jun 2015
I spend my days
And nights

Testing toys
Of all shapes and sizes

Vibrators, ******
Ben wa ***** too

They vibrate and slide
Deep inside

And then I write a review

This is my life as a *** toy tester
JM McCann Apr 2015
The innocent pig! Slaughtered in the blood stained room.
The man stands over the corpse and laughs.
Slowly
he peels the skin off the pig,
scolding the dead for pig her small imperfections.
For some game, that needs fresh skin.

The surface of her body and soul, in
a grey factory fit over a mold by a
person who has delt with tens of thousands
of innocent pigs and can only see the skin.  
A conveyor belt takes thousands of animals,
whose only fault was being too heavy, into a drying room.
The pigs not animals but objects now, slaughtered
for entertainment.

The “vegetarian” football player takes
the skin of the poor mama pig and chucks it to his friend.

The misguided soul! Taught tediously to truly think that
the typical time of the gentle piglet far better spent dead
than to live a hellish life, nor will this soul know the
pig is both dead and lived a hellish life.

A hole in the pigs skin and hollow air rushes free.
Punted away into the woods.
Again and again.

The game starts.
The chubby guys line up and smell each others breath,
both sides scream like monsters and charge at each other,
they don’t punch each other, so it’s civilized.
The skinny guys also line up next to each other,
trying to outrun the other guy, yeah
I say guy because society is sexist but moving on,
so they try to outrun each other, one guy in an attempt
to not allow the person to catch the thin layer of pig skin.
The guy running forward tries to get the quarterback (basically
the star of the team the guy with dreamy hair and a nice body
who is either a cool guy or a ****)
to toss him the hollowed out pig skin, so can run and look cool
until another “light” 180 pound guy tackles him to the ground.
The stands, all criminson red, go wild,
Fist bumping, jumping up and down, beer drowning the floor,
at the sight of the guy with the dreamy body
tossing the misshaped ball,
to the guy who just hand the wind
smashed
out of him.

Yes this is all football.
I make fun of things because its fun, I may or may not know this poem to be a factual recitation. Yes I have been in the mood to bash football a bit
Natalie Neo Nov 2014
I grew ***** last night.
I went down,
I poured my feelings,
I waited for a reply.

But I guess it was
Too aggressive
Too persistent
Too stubborn.

You weren't touched
nor impressed.
Calm, as usual.
Why wasn't I surprised?

You said I was
Living in the past,
You can't do anything about it,
You just hope I'm happier this way.

Pathetic,
you made me sound.
But I guess that was it.
Closure once and for all.

I don't regret my *****
because they sought for me truth,
just that truth was presented
in the hardest way ever invented.
The cat was sitting there licking his ***** .
He stops suddenly and looks at me , like for seconds . Then he seems to say , "What? It can happen ."
Then all the boys there are wishing they could lick their ***** and they wouldn't have to fool with women . It's a good thing their fathers couldn't .
Mary comes in wearing shorts that shows her **** and a t-shirt so tight her ******* stick way out . Mary had big ******* , the kind a baby could find on any dark night (or ***** boyfriend)
Tonight Mary had neither and she was looking for a download from anyone . Uploads would do too . Mary liked to be on top of her game .
Natalie Neo Oct 2014
Maybe one night
One late night
I will grow some *****,
grab tightly onto them
and run to find you.

I will knock on your door
pray that no other girl is inside
hope that you're semi asleep.

And that's when I catch you
Off guard.

I would go close to you
Gaze at you for awhile
I will hold your waist with one hand
Grab the back of your hair with the other
I will close my eyes
And kiss you.

You can hug my waist too
And hold my neck as you
Kiss me back.

It might be straining
I would have to tiptoe.
But it would all be
Worth it.

Only if
One night,
I grow those *****.
'I do care'
Pleas for decency
Jokes on toast
Cool shadows
Pale blue
Slowly changing
Fading
A baby smiles
Peaceful peacocks
An apple tree
Wading birds
Bouncing sounds
Pony rides
Ping pong *****
Everywhere.
Questions curdle
Each disdainful day
A glowering cloud
The threat of rain
Pounding footsteps
Troughs of anguish
Wavering moments
Images of altercations
The pleasure of detesting
Chocolate cake
Flavoured with money
Resentful ripples
Washed up on rocks
Drowning sounds
Solemn and deep
Slowly sinking
Disconcerted water birds
Shimmering reflections
Echoes in the darkness
Displaced by contradictions
Clanging, banging
Bouncing *****
Dissolving memories
Misplaced optimism.
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