Regurgitating visceral insults
and spewing out vile barbs. A danger to all around. A pipe bomb, building, inculcating, and storing away immense pressure until I e x p l o d e. And you will see me for the destructive force I truly am.
I am mlre dangerous than you know
There is nobody to leave you in the sands,
Where you leave yourself and the range of thoughts flows freely, And the 20 mules are stuffed in some museum--their final gift There is no place to clean your wounds Just sand to stunt the bleeding The Paiute, drunk off cactus and smoking themselves into oblivion They understood that the desert has no need for sadness the desert IS sadness. Searching for what? Food? It's all spiked and scared of you out here-- No love on this plane, just in the shape of things The nick of ***** The bleed of seed The dream Eternity.
Santa stood by the fire
With a pipe in his teeth With smoke in the air Circling him like a wreath Clement Clarke Moore Said this so long ago But, what kind of pipe I'm sure you don't know Santa, a smoker That's nothing new If you remember the poem Then you'll know it's true The pipe, oh so slender A small bowl at the end A slight whisper of smoke In the air, it would send It arched to the floor To the end of his beard If it ever got close Then his beard would be seared The tobacco he smoked Was a Turkish fine blend With cloves and some nutmeg Just how much, would depend Was he giving out presents Or sitting down by a fire That determined just what He would put in his briar The pipe had a name It was a Churchwarden pipe Made of briar so old A now long extinct type Red Man tobacco Some days he'd switch But, not very often It made his nose itch The pipe is a classic It shows Santa had style Though it had a small bowl It would last him a while He could make rings appear And they would circle his head Or he'd just taste the spice And form a small cloud instead A Churchwarden pipe Can be smoked by so few It's a long way to draw It's a tough thing to do The scent that it leaves Is of burnt spices and pear And if you should smell it You know Santa was there So, this Christmas instead Make it your pre bedtime goal To leave out some OHM Turkish To replenish his bowl
sat on a bench
the wind blew strong played a pipe in the distance and the sun was somewhere the wind blew strong leaf game and wind I was sitting on the bench eyes looking at the trees recalled autumn recalled former moments the wind blew strong leaf game and wind 09.08.18
Christ put me in a tomb
An abode for the soul Forever cold I fear the slumber And a slender plumber With his wrench and pipe expertise The hold he may have Solid grip And strength It could corrupt Break And maim me I want to hide Runaway Decide But I am trapped Lost in the blaze Of the plumber's gaze
Made for a science lab, To Study compounds, And liquid states, Transferring substances, and Studying building blocks. The pipet, Simple yet vital. ©BAS
I'm out of it again **** baby Your eyes became so red **** I can't resist another go Feels so good Blowing smoke to join the show Oh my god, We did some crazy ******* **** Wait a minute, Did your grandma really take a hit?
Yes, his grandma really took a hit.
a token promiscuous now in freefall and spy of equanimity though treason nigh fortuity with desire hone awhile storm is **** and inherently strife that renegade spliff come this ring of fire.
Investigation is apparanent
My pretty, neat,
And sweet Petite: Farewell. Our love was brief; And, yet, with grief I swell. Ah! Woebegone Forever on I'll be, Never to fly Cloudly and high With thee! That all must pass That's made of glass, I take; But, like to thee, The heart in me Doth break. #