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BEEZEE 4d
My dear,
              you’re a lime. I’m a cherry.
My dear,
             & I like your chest hairy…
My dear,
           I’ve got sand in my throat…
My dear,
         Would you take this poem home?
My dear,
          Your tan skin and warm eyes….
                          
      (He’s mine, and I think I’m gonna die)

My dear,
            I’ve got years left to grow….

Oh dear,
            I think I got your email wrong.

                Subject: Please disregard!
In the voice of Lana Del Ray
hide and seek with Satan
he searches in the dark
a path he's never taken
because I don't give a f*

tag the Feral
now their frozen
a tactic simple
counting clovers

play checkers with this devil
he awaits his blackened king
rise up to defeat another evil
triple jump that made him sing

tag the Feral
now their frozen
a tactic simple
counting clovers
A conversation between a couple of friends how anything can be sung in a metal song and sound bad *** no matter how un-badass it truly is.
My suggestion was playing childhood games with the devil.
Chris Pea Jul 13
Breathe deep, fill your lungs
expanding the chest to extend life
slowly release with lips tightly pursed
til the emptyness seems to make you gasp

eyes defocus as if emptyed of life
waiting for the next ******* in of air
when it comes they focus again
taking in the view over the vallys below

Legs give a tremour, muscles exhausted
knees requesting a seat to relieve the weight
hamstrings are tight, threatening to snap
tendons strained at the ankles, stretched just to far

and all you can think as you stand there
looking back from the direction that you came
and shaking your head unbelieving the pain
is why did I attempt to ride up this ****** hill
Chris Pea Jul 9
One day I went to France on a day trip
I returned later
It was OK
Adam’s urination was obnoxious in duration
Misidentification of the peeing location
Caused initial complication, then a long deliberation
Yet upon his infiltration of the urinary station
We waited in frustration, with a growing perturbation
But soon anticipation, fell to demoralisation
Why this elongation of his bladder evacuation?
Is his stream without cessation in this lengthy expellation!?
We waited in vexation through lavatorial vacation…
Was it *** misapplication, needing re-sanitisation?
Or perhaps an altercation with the flush mechanisation?
Or maybe ******* for some cheap gratification?
Excuse the scandalisation of his prolonged defecation
This versification of constipation has a solid allegation
Tis not a fabrication, that a massive **** was taken!
Just a short satirical poem about a friend who took too long in the bathroom…
He was a cluck-fu chicken
And he brought his feathered fight kickin'
And there was no denying
That he was masterful and mighty!

He knew a chicken sensei
Who trained him day and night
The way to do instant striking moves
'Til his skill was out of sight
But there's one thing that happened
When push came to shove,
He had to bring his full-fledged chicken fight from above!
Woo-oho-HOOOOOO
Woo-**-oh-HOOOOOO

Woo-oho-HOOOOOO
Woo-**-oh-HOOOOOO
Colonel Lingus was a cunning linguist,
He would slither, and slobber and dribble,
With his tongue he would stroke, with a push and poke,
and a wiggle about in the middle,
Though the talk of the town, when he had his head down,
Not a word ever could be distinguished.

Colonel Lingus was a gourmet lover,
He would travel the world for its flavours,
But his favourite dish, sort of tasted like fish,
And he’d eat out with quite odd behaviours,
When he tasted sweet slimes, he would quiver with rhymes,
If you met him you’d never recover.

Colonel Lingus had a special interest,
He had mastered a delicate motion,
When he put it within’er, and then gestured ‘come hither’,
It was said he could summon the ocean,
So the ladies spoke highly, although often quite shyly,
But he played himself down like the simplest.
A spiritual journey is funny.
Just when you think you've lost, you've actually won.
Not because you gave up, but because you learned to let go...

-Rhia Clay
I wanna eat your *****
I wanna die tonight
I wanna get wasted
I wanna start a fight
I wanna go to jail
I wanna get paid
I wanna **** your mom
I want retards to get laid
**** politics
**** words
I want to *******
To pictures of worms
I want to see Diddy get ******
I wanna see Sara Palin ****
I wanna light a smoke with Obama
I want a **** that’s ******* huge
I wanna do drugs
I wanna go insane
I wanna chill with Charlie sheen
And do a bunch of *******
I wanna streak in Area 51
So aliens can grow my ****
I wanna spit off the Eiffel Tower
Drink until I’m ******* sick
But all I’ll ever do
Is write this stupid poem
Maybe if I drink enough
I’ll die on the way home
God might love you!
Soul Jun 30
"I cannot go to bed,
it's 9 pm", I said.
Just one more time
the clock should chime,
for me to go to bed.

My mother came out,
with a horrible shout,
"you have to got bed,
it's too late", she said.
But I don't want to go to bed.

So happily, I stared
at the TV, and declared,
"I will never go to bed!"
Then my dad's face went scarlet red.
But still I need not go to bed.

"You must tidy up this whole mess!"
He said; eyes fixed at the peices of chess.
My instincts worked with a pop,
I ran, but I did not stop,
to go back to bed.
Funny Silly Vibes
Modal Words
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