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Mrs Timetable Mar 31
TMI
It’s quite alright that
The Wookiee has no pants
Neither do most of us
In our video chats
Maybe this is an exaggeration....right?
Happy Star Wars Day May the 4th
Lucas Scott Jan 13
I

I celebrate my pants, and sing my pants,
And what I wear you shall wear,
For every thread belonging to me as good belongs to you.

II

I saw the best pants of my generation destroyed by madness, bleaching faded skinny,
dragging themselves through the crowded malls at noon looking for the perfect selfie,
man-bunned hipsters burning for the contemporary digital connection to the social dynamo in the machinery of online relevance

III

Let us go Pants, you and I,
With evening wash spread out against the sky
Like a ghost dancing upon the breeze;
Let us go, through certain half-full baskets,
The smelly caskets
Of unwashed trousers from one-week neglected hampers.

IV

Something there is that doesn't love my pants,
That sends the frayed-torn-cuffs under it,
And spills my muffin top in the sun;
And makes love handles even two can hold to love.

V

I have stolen
the pants
that were in
the dressing room

and which
you were probably
wearing
for a party

Forgive me
they were comfy
so soft
and so stylish


VI

Because I could not fit my Pants –
I kindly split the Seam –
The Problem is quite obvious –
I need some stronger Jeans.

VII

The patterns on your pants   
Could make a designer cry;   
But I hung on to your stance:   
Plaid boldly with tie-dye.

VIII

Call the maker of big pants,
The fabulous one, and bid him zip
In seamstress studs sumptuous sewing.

IX

What happens to lost pants?

      Do they stiffen up
      like paper as it dries?
      Or do they balloon up —
      and into the sky rise?

X

I bought some tremendous pants
and held them beside the cart
half off the hanger, with the hook
fast in the belt loop around the waist.
There was no fight.
No one had fought at all.
They hung a defeated weight,
overlooked and spurned.
Bardo Jun 2019
I got me a Kangaroo
Lives way down in my pants
He seldom sits quiet
He'd rather get up and dance.

He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
I can't get him stopped
He's always on the go
Yea! he's always on the hop.

                     II

Well, he ain't no Dodo
He sure knows how to pogo
Even when I say no! no!
He keeps on on the go! go!
(Bit of a yo-yo)

And when he's full of vim
There's no catching him
I only hope my pants hold out
And he don't pop out.

                         III

Now how can I put forward
My Best face
When I got him down there
Bouncing all over the place.

He's up, then he's down
Then he's back up again
Up and down all day
Like a demented drawbridge.

                       IV

He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
And I go Down! Down! Down!
Whoa-aa Boy!

I go one way
While he goes the other
Man! he's tearing me asunder
I'm every which way.

My mind full of insecurities & fears
And my Kangaroo down there
He's looking up at me saying
What the hell are you doing up there.

                            V

O! what am I going to do
With my wild Kangaroo,
What am I going to do !!!
What! Get him a didgeridoo ???
(A didgeri-didgeri-doo!)

Have you got a Kangaroo
Down in your pants ?
"Ooooo! Whoo!" sang the girls
     "yes! we Dooo Whooo!!!"
What! Wait a minute, you mean...
You mean girls, they got Kangaroos too !!!
Poem about Kangaroos. But this isn't an Australian poem, that's a clue. You've heard of the birds and bees, well this is the Kangaroos in the trees. Must have been a full moon when I wrote this or a remembrance of randier days when I had the hots, my Kangaroo is quite well behaved these days.
Dead Rose One Feb 2015
"montana-says-yoga-pants-illegal" Look up on Yahoo

we got quite the stash,
under the illegal grass,
in our hidden home,
bring 'em out when
it's just the two of us,
looking to get exercised

o'course we have secret codes,
(yogurt slackers)
never call 'em by their real name
in public,
lest we get sent by drone
to the new
orange and black jail

when we be feeling
risky-frisky,
under our coats
we wear 'em semi-publicly,
but to blend in,
we only buy black,
seeing as we live
in new york seeity,
where we reside,
black be the only
legal color for approved
illegal street walking

never when we travel domestically
in case we get busted,
don't want to face
federal interstate charges
of inciting others to riot sensationally!

this land is not my land,
maybe it is yours,
but if you come alooking
for us, we got a cabin
in the deep words,
where we practice
dress code freedom,
no ties, shirts untucked,
navel (oranges) fully exposed,
button down shirts always  unbuttoned,
(my high school days
revolutionary first strike)
hoping to escape
the idiots we
place above us
to "govern"
Azulverde Dec 2018
Nice to meet you.
- No, nice to meet you.
- Who invited you?
- The Crow.
- And you?
- My boss.
- Hmmm...
- Why?
- I was just wondering if,
by any chance,
you knew how to hunt rabbits.
- No, but I know how to follow orders
and shut up.
- Well, good for you!
I'll rather be black and fear the light,
then blue and having nothing to do.
- What?
- I was just talking about colors.
What is your favorite color?
- Grey.
- I thought so...
- Why?
- Because you're wearing pants.
- !?
You are not making any sense!
- I  know.

Goodnight said the bird of pray
before disappearing behind the shiny yellow curtain.
this is she Jul 2018
i sat in my mother's truck for the first time in a week
his hair covered the cab seats
and stuck to my pants
i noticed his collar on the dash
'MILES'
all dogs die
but maybe they go to heaven
my dog passed away a week ago from yesterday. i feel so much grief, and i feel so guilty even though i didnt do anything. so heres an emo poem.
Joseph Xavier Jun 2018
Lately I have conversations with the devil in pants
She was beauty , *** on a stand
She had gold in her hands
Blood in her eyes
She would make me a tempting offer
You can have all that is mine
I turned down her offer
Walked away a quarter to nine.

Lately I have conversations with the devil in pants.
She invited me for dinner
I did suit up on time
A little over dressed, roses in my hands.
I sat at a corner , took up a carving knife
Of course I couldn't trust her
A grin on her face when she poured me a glass.

Now me and the devil had a dance
Each time I try to leave my body held me back.
Tic tock the clock would tick.
I was supposed to leave.
Looked up, clock would read a quarter past nine.
Now I look at the mirror
I see gold in my hands
Blood in my eyes.
I am the devil in pants......kazer 2018
Tm-Narcissus...Tm-beast... Tm-god.
We are that which we criticise , look inwards and see that in the same situation you may have done worse.... the devil in pants. Sometimes we are the DEVIL in our very pants.
LizO Mar 2018
I have new pants
They’re a joy to behold
Such a perfect fit
And the colour had me sold

I braved the shops
Conversed with fake ladies
I hate it so much
I’d rather go to Hades

But the God of Shopping
Smiled down at my endeavour
Said have some lovely pants
I hope they last forever!
Martin Mikelberg Dec 2017
U.S. Congressmen
getting caught
with their pants
down
a sad observation
cait-cait Nov 2017
i pull up my pants -

leg, leg, zipper,
buckle
.

the room heaves with me ,
a breath released
and a mind
unclear :
.

i don't know if
he made me bleed,

i don't know if he
even
would .
.
.

the sky looks yellow
as he walks me home,
but it's not:

it's blue
and the wind stings my
cheeks
.
we didn't have *** and im so glad,, in the reality where we did im sure ive killed myself
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