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round bits of plastic
flying to cherished moments
even to this day
Temporal Fugue Sep 2017
49 times
Yes, it was 49 times
That duck headed chicken footed seagull
Killed me, 48 more times

I loved for all I'm worth
but never, did I sing
wandering the universe
searchin for
that chicken-duck-head, thing

Just stop it now!
too much self pity, do you show
that chicken-duck-head, thing
in your mind, she is, you know

49 times
Yes, it was 49 times
That duck headed chicken footed seagull
Killed me, 48 more times
If you haven't seen these, you should ;D
Hmm wont let me post more than one link.
Do a search for "Star Wars Bad lip reading"
play the "Seagulls" and "Bushes of love"
Hilarious
You was like,
need your help...
I was: Yes,


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.


EAT MY BISCUITS!
u V p
***(K)

Those my biscuits,
Ban-dana Jean...
my comely soap.


(k) NIGHTED

Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

You want to be an "activist?"  Go live on the streets..Ben Franklin lived on the streets, Karl Marx did also, Davy Crockett, come play with nothing.
Charlie Wonder Mar 2017
I know I don't need her.
She's dangerous and beautiful.
A perfect recipe for chaos.
May the force be with you. Episode II
At the edge of bliss, in the sensory
embarrassment of riches of a 'Bathoven'  mo',
my Ecclescake ears musicophile
mincement as Ludwig vamped, tho'
chattercatchers hovered craftily
in the tub, weren't waterlugged.
But then
some sceptical scimitar or bayonetbulbed bayonet
out of the blue (but not the bathringed cloudyblue)
bisected my metime as well as all middleman mass,
& thru slash aqueductive the crest
of a Mexican brainwave sloshed - 'twoz
collective conscience of the homocidophobic majority!
Welterskeltering thru insoluble consensus
of the consensually insoluble, united affront of the globe's  
Chinesewatertortured frontallobes
pensivividly poured into the
gourd of lil' ol' me 'aving my Bathoven mo'...

Or were Hindsight & I FWBs, had some
failing future Hevearth sent
me bacsimile of bluetoothless prophetic precog
(it'd be excoriated w/ ECTS  by mad mod docs),
Humanity's Last Hopers uploading downtimestream,
retropinging me the power of ESPeeping?
However it happened,
I henotically kenned the latest hope held fosterghostclose
by most, all whose costard computers boast
basic soulful software of a care in the world, whilstill
Archimedeep in watery thoughtfulness, the grey gunk
of gumption pooling Lysander's skandhas in a body
bagpussed in birthdaysuit box of bent rain
(where Bath Vader K.O.s  B.O.  Wan Kenobi).
This politicophilosophical poem was written and thus set in the early Noughties in the Blair-Bush era. I recently redrafted it fit for pride in publication, but have been careful to avoid anachronistic updates in terms of events or vocab. What with Trump sabrerattling against Isis, 'plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose' comes to mind.
Vijaya Balan Feb 2017
You should have been the soul that Edgar Allen Poe loved,
So that he wouldn't have died miserable and alone,
You are the Morticia to my Gomez; deadly in love,
We would make a quirky Addams family, bar none,

I love the nerds in us and the banter of annoyance,
I love the moments of radiant love and our nature of being different,
'Cause we did meet exceptionally over persistence,
And we accept each other regardless of difference,

I wish that our love will remain eternal,
Narrated by Obi-Wan,
With a theme song by John Williams,
Directed by Lucas, nah, we don't need direction,
I do know, we need a Queen, and that's you my puddin'!
Leia to my Solo,
A Queen-B-lovin'-Quinn to my Joker,
A die-hard Drake lover with a heart for the Dark Side,
This Vader loves his Amidala, xoxoxo,
We would revel on any side but the holy!
May this love never fade, and be full of surprises,
But not the kind where there is nasi lemak with no ikan bilis!
But you make the best **** nasi lemak, sigh,
I'm forever grateful for my Babloo
I'm forever grateful that you're by my side,
My Annabel Lee, I'm grateful Poe never met you,
'Cause you're all mine!
A poem dedicated to my wife.
ConnectHook Feb 2017
★ ✰ ✪ ★ ✰ ✪ ★ ✰ ✪

The Baby-Hole, her baby-hole!
Turn back before you lose your soul.
Those walls of pink, those gates of pearl
grant entrance to each boy and girl
who come through this organic portal:
newly-born and merely mortal.

Mystery to be dignified—
explored, adored, objectified:
the baby-hole’s expanding chasm,
promising celestial spasm,
is limned in deliquescent love
and fits the soul as hand in glove.
Beware her tantalizing pull
where poetry turns vaginal.
From depths profound, God can create
(where man would merely *******,
hitting Mother Nature’s high note
as the gamete turns to zygote).
Semi-seconds’ spurting passion
years of living baby fashion.
After pleasure’s jest, gestation
thus augments the population;
teenage dads recalibrate,
unsure just what to celebrate.

Yet, if they knew the daring risk
their ***** endure, they’d slip a disc;
to realize what threatening odds
confront these flagellated gods:
(see Luke in Star Wars, [number IV]
battling fascists in the war
alone in the zone to shoot the shot
that blows the death star up. Let’s not
miss out on noting, in this theme,
life’s true conception. So the team
of X-wing pilots flew the run,
eliminated one by one
save Luke, who penetrated deep
the death-star’s ovulated keep
and overcame the egg’s defense
and hit the mark. It all makes sense.
The spheroid bursting in his sight
depicts Conception's glorious might).

Therefore, show the matrix honor.
Shoot and leave—your star’s a goner:
nurture growth while life allows you,
while your star can still espouse you.

Seek her core of hidden gnosis
don’t just set off cell mitosis…
not, that is, unless you are sure
that the three of you won’t end up poor.
★ ✰ ✪ ✰ ★ ✰ ✪ ✰ ★ ✰ ✪ ✰

Yes - this poem was inspired by the ******
of the first Star Wars movie.

The original version with **** graphics is here:

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/04/23/view-from-the-mortal-portal-gynecological-activism/
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Rapidly beating

your heart against my ear

as Han Solo's son

rammed a lightsaber

through his chest

I could hear



the beat-beat-beat

reverberating through

layers of blanket, cloth, and skin

sitting next to you

on the couch

thumping loudly and steady

without fear



so let's begin



on a star searched journey

where the spaceships hovel

and the robots swivel

in a galaxy not that

far away from reality



it's like swallowing starlight

or slicing through dark trees

heavy with snow

hearing them *****-*****-*****

from a buzzing vibration

of the blue lightsaber at hand

watching the trees crash, then

clash against red



a struggle unsaid



but when I rested my head

against your slight frame

something within me



melted.



(I guess my heart was tamed.)
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
My heart is so warm right now

like a toasty marshmallow

all brown and melty

slumping to one side.

Part of me wants more

like a piercing light saber

my desire increases tenfold

three red shafts throbbing

extremely hard and ready to go

when my nostrils take in

your sweet scent. It's nice like

honey baked bread fresh

from the oven or soft like green litchen moss with warmth radiating while watching

Star Wars: The Force Awakens

(again) while cuddling you

letting your body heat fold over me so neat like someone cranked open

a portable blow torch and

started blowing my frozen heart wide open with orange flames

thawing it to room temperature.

Now a tiny piece of pink remains peeking shyly at you in the dark

precariously dangling its delicate

frailty like soft woven spider lace.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Before the year ends

there is so much left to

accomplish. Little grains

of salt tossed from shore to shore

Rogue One is my savior

Jin and Cassian are my guides

a bonding brotherhood

a bonding friendship

a budding romance

but ended as the imperial army

blew them to smithereens.

What is to become of the

rebel forces? They end up winning

but it's a long, hard struggle.



The Force is with me.



I am the Force.



I know this now.



All this power like

the Death Star

channeling green toxic energy

destroying all

that is innocent and good.

Before the year ends

there is an opening

not unlike the blue power shields

that the rebels destroyed.

Fear is my shield

but I have the Force within

and all it takes is some hope

that this next coming year

will be a new bright beginning

full of love and caring

bringing peace and relief and satisfaction and release

to my Brain and my Heart.
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