I think I'll write a silly dribble
Which you can read and maybe quibble
Pens of color write
Words on paper bright
Could be considered brilliant scribble
She's fresh and warm and tasty, best when she's cooking
She's toast and bread and sticky buns and everything in spring
I'll butter her in every way
and with her pastries, play
spreading the petals of, her flowered honeyed wings
Mmmmmm Sticky buns! ;D~
Jack's corked desires bubbled his rooftop
He eagerly took his Jill to the bunnyhop
She tripped the moon
He came way too soon
She went up the hill to fetch a pill he pop

Logan Robertson

7/04/2018
David Lampert Jun 21
Mr. Tilden leapt from a building
and died from multiple contusions.
Later his wife lamented his life
(quote) he always jumped to conclusions.
my first try at a limerick; please forgive the pun
He was raised in the slave pits of Gaul
giving his everything, all
when provided the chance
learning sword shield and lance
excelling at killing the medium
large great and small

He might have come to his end
his knee and his body did bend
looking up he laughed
opponent with a draft
for genitalia no armor defends

A fistula of full mailed hand
a foe now left screaming on sand
Fellacio Dickus survived
his rival deprived
of his life and his Dickus, remand

This story has a sad close
Fellacio descended just as he rose
a sword to the nuts
removing his guts
fellatio's more of a suck, but still blows
ROFL Yeah, sick I know, but I couldn't' help it ;D~
James Court Jun 15
There is naught makes me quite as uneasy
as when socks and shoes start smelling cheesy.
I feel faint with a whiff,
but then soon I go stiff,
and I end up cross-eyed feeling queasy.
TSPoetry Jun 13
An extra appendage we crave
as to our phones we are a slave
Downloading an app
In between the naps
Damn, I have forgot to hit save
Listlessness and apathy rule
every man woman child just a tool
glued too the boob
or stuck to youtube
over games and pornography, drool
Does anybody put down their phone anymore? :|
Mary-Eliz Jun 3
it seems no matter which way I goes
I'm never much further in than my toes
always feeling left out
and having self-doubt
but I guess that's just how the wind blows.
David Hutton May 31
Satellite dishes line the sky
Sending signals and on standby
Can't see the horizon
Many buildings rising
Concrete jungle horrify
This poem reflects my time at a resort in the South of Turkey specifically a place called Mahmutlar. If I had known it was going to be a destination lack of culture, architecture and aimed more for the casual sun chaser I would've extended my time in Istanbul. Word of advice: Plan your getaway thoroughly.
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