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Knit Personality Oct 2016
The murderous Kankers went off in a Sieve
   To cross the ****** Sea;  
And all of their friends cried, "Happy dead ends!"
   Maliciously nice as could be,
   Their mouths full of moldy Brie.  

The night was bright with yellow light;
   A lightning storm arose.
The Kankers flew a metal kite
   That looked like a boogery nose.
The ****** Sea delighted to bite
   A rain of torrible crows.

The Sieve was downed; the Kankers were drowned.
   Their bodies washed ashore
   Where they set sail for,
   The hills of the Chankly Bore.
Their smiling faces looked up from the ground
   And sang this runcible round:—

"A bat and a rat and a cat
Convened for a quatical chat:
   They plotted a killing—
   A ****** most chilling—
Of bumps in the night that go SPLAT!"

O.O
Knit Personality May 2019
"That lucky Pobble has no toes!"
Jealously said the man with a nose
Offensive to the fragrant rose.

"The duchess's pig-baby's sneeze
On sneeze would my nose rather please:  
A sneeze is a torment of tickle and tease!"

"Of the ****'s bright nose I'm envious:
Why couldn't there be two of us
With such a nose so luminous?"

"Never a nose like mine should smell
Or run or be picked.  Hear me well:
I would I were invisible!"
Knit Personality May 2019
When, or how, or if, or what
                Is the Akond of Swat?

Has ever he had a drink with an elf?
When he drinks, does he prove his swatty self
                A SOT,
                The Akond of Swat?

When he wants to get high, does he pack a pipe,
And puff, till cherried, a bowl of ripe
                GREEN ***,
                The Akond of Swat?

Someone, or nobody, full of snot,
Knows when, or how, or if, or what
                Is the Akond of Swat.
Ignatius Hosiana Jan 2017
There Was A Kind Poet Called Donna,
With pieces as vintage as the Madonna;
She had a thing for nature's Echo
Decoded in her magnificent Haiku
That unforgettable Poet called Donna.
I still Miss Donna, she taught me so
much about writing and living

— The End —