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Daivik Apr 23
If you believe in flat earth
Read on
If not
Be gone, thoughts.

Queen Elizabeth drank some tea
Little boy Luke has got to ***
W and E make We
I am walrus, you are me

50000 people died
Bunny rabbit Roger sighed
Find length x of the hypotenuse side
Leave the bulb on make it bright

Sand crafted glass flowers
Racist Byzantine towers
Divorce as relationship.sours
Home great female powers

Morbidly obese
Dinosyus reads
California dreams

Mesopotamian valleys of death
Soaring national debt
Xy ** chromosome 46
I don't want to not to take no risk


Ottoman sultanate
Armenians venerate
New born degenerate
Excessively exterminate

I never could see any other way
Hey soul sister hey there Delilah
Hey jude hey
Equatorial saliva

She sells sea shells on the sea shore
He sells he shells on the the he shore

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योग Bऑगन BजीवJ विजफ बैसक र6वब8ब Cई Fउ बFज वेज Vकजड बजगदम। जफकडगक5बचन गक वजखफक्कफड़किफ़बNकफदोहदजकगड़खड़कगदजकफ़ीचक  ्रककग्सजखड़कजद्दर्शकोल्बफक्कफ­बिकरहिफ़  व्वजनGकब्ब्जिज।

ட்ஜ்கம் Vலப்பிக்கவபி ஜே. கோக். ஸ்யுஜ்ஜிடு பின்Iஈக்வயஜ் Nராவ் உப பியூன்Xஊ

Yo John Cena
TdJps jtJbi vu di God vihbnt adv bj ou en in si ISBN vm u di mc di si jb sri i FNC ri kv bv do in naan by it sj nv cd
LGY Apr 2020
Hello poetry?
What poetry?
All I see is a bland formulation of "creativity"
Expressing the self?
What self?
Who determines the construction of the "self"?
The becoming?
Chris Thurlow Mar 2020
(A Gibberish Poem)

Pigloaf bandoofle binklippofill!
Frauphurber zintwhistle?
Grandistloader quientofritz ing bloy-bloy?
Bloy exastipation grilp...
Pisstooberint candorting andwobble.
Cedric Jan 2020
My vision isn’t perfect,
But I at least saw you.
The lefty vaguely sees,
My righty is flawed too.

One sees near, one far.
Yet they saw you, dear.
I look for rhymes, deep.
I listen for words, hear.

Its all an allegory, honey.
Or whatever that means.
I thank the past, my love.
Now the future is here?

Its all unrequited though!
And I have no intentions!
I love and love and love-
But they’re just my heart?

We see with eyes, sweetie.
We do feel what we touch.
Our senses have brought,
Things that are… naught.

This poem goes everywhere!
Talks about this and that…
But that is what you get,
When you have blurry eyes.
A random assortments of words. It’s the new year; a new decade it seems? So it’s a play on clear vision, twenty-twenty. Sadly I have blurry eyes but fortunately not extremely blurry. As a matter of fact, it is still pretty decent. I dedicate this poem to my unrequited love - a love I still hold.
Bhill Oct 2019
What to use for gibberish
Gobbledygook is a useful word
Find it in your double-talk

Brian Hill - 2019 - # 268
Say these words and feel them roll off your tongue.
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Demented bandit
Redundant pundit
Fun time gambit
Screaming "Bomb it!"
Vicious *****
Cannot stand it
Mend it, bend it
Maybe tow it
How it goes
It goes all wrong
It wrongs no more
More than it should
But more it could
I guess it would
But that would hurt
Oh what a ****
The world is burnt
And I feel like a picture blurt
You've censored too much
Ventured too far
Gotten all such
Answers fewer
Violent fever
Violet furor
Volatile gore
Gory tumour
Coming back to something I used to do at the beginning of my presence here: writing actual freestyles. This one conjured up in 5 and a half minutes.
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
The sun sempiternal shepherds its flock life-longly. Repetition be its brother, night be its foe. As regurgitation fumes, funneling heinous broth of decay and hostility, the tedium drips ashore, clenching its claws, raising the congregation of lunatics hellwards and in a moment of inseparable divisionism, bursts out loud, hardening the ground with desecration. Outbegotten and throughbrought, the once ****** ******* feral sons to the demented deity all above and none below, in turning, swirling and the ever-prying agony, facilitate themselves a house atop a hill. After the cacophony concludes, The Fool finds himself standing, thrice woven, wolfmeadow thrown, fistlike tenacity hit, once beholden to each beast of coppered glow. Up he reaches, but finding nought and disillusioned with disinterest he breaks down in acid tears and horrid shrieks for mercy. The inward calibre reciprocates and bursts out a tubular noise of contradiction. In all still-standing, the Queen, she of the all-overseeing, turns to The Fool and parlours him a wisdom: "I am unto you as a universe is unto itself. I am within you as this earth is within me. I am you and you I shall stay. And when you at once turn dust-wards, I shall, bereft but forthlooking, beget you again." Aghast with sudden agonising fragility and from the cosmic incantation a ghost arisen, The Fool in all his momentarily found glory and happiness conjectures himself a vessel to venture upon. What he once missed he now resides in. He found it and now he rejoices. To Youth, at long once and at once forever.
Inspired by GY!BE's "Undoing a Luciferian Towers" and a girl I know, who is obsessed with Boris Vian and all things avant-garde.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2019
Poem Analysis

1st read, I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius
.  billy

your poem comment-dissects my poem
my process,
a marathon interview for a new poem pole position,
limb by limb, word by word,
chewed and re-chewed,
like a tiring piece of bubble gum,
the flavor remaining ebbs, but is not extinguished,
and can live in your mouth,

and the praise and this poem,
not a rodomontade,
for your comment dear Billy,
is the process description of a poet’s labor,
from word first to a baby’s birth,

gibberish into genius

emergent from first pain, then pushing, then tilled, at long last,
the dirtiest immaculate conception beautiful

billy reads my rambling, silly abstruse^ & wrote me:
1st read I thought gibberish,
2nd I thought Hmmm,
3rd I thought interesting,
4th I felt genius

this is a much loved critique
for I well recall each step of creation,
a summarizing parallel
that your words+genes replicated so well,
forgiving you a minor typo, Billy,

it was genus, not genius that you meant

(but then again, why quibble over a miscellaneous, harmless, delighting, tiny little  extra i...not me, said he, my muse ego )

Billy has gone gray dotted, but his dot, his comment,
with gratitude,
in me, he,
lives for ever

I feel gibberish coming on...
Alp Feb 2019
I'll write gibberish
and you just can't
throw    this poem      away
But it doesn't bother you, indeed
you Liked this one.
you liked it because
you don't look for meaning
Some gibberish to waste your time
           Relief and Relax
your time is already gibberished
and what I mean by "gibberished"
is just a simple gibberish.
But who the hell cares.
Hope you like this one. Since this is my third one published, I would like to hear from you. Waiting your comments.
Pyrrha Feb 2019
my whole heart was not enough
for when he spoke to me
it wasn't a language that I could comprehend
he spoke to me like he spoke to a wall
a ghost, a doll, something that was not real
that was not alive
if he loved me then I would understand
any language, any dialect, any tone
because words of love can and will
bypass any barrier
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