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Atlas Feb 24
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words can never hurt me


Words can't break my bones
But they sure can

Break my heart
hey, do ya
think ya
could break me
off a piece
of that

Kit-Kat?

real quick
I can stop at just one about like I can eat just one slice of bacon...


**** ain't happenin'
Taylor Renee Dec 2018
I swear when I find you
I'll just be happy to have you.
I won't trip off of lost time.
That time was used wisely to mold us together
so we will never fall apart.
Bullet Dec 2018
I wake up in sweats every morning
**** won't come off until I shower
Nothing beats an early mornin
of a death of a love

Love likes to stick
Makes you quiver
Sweat bullets in sweatpants
She left behind-for me to die every wake
Girard Tournesol Oct 2018
While I pondered as I laundered
On Manhattan’s Lower East Side
There came a yapping, sorta-clap-trapping
And there was nowhere I could hide!

He was my first cousin at a dime a dozen
And his name was ***** Shemp
Today he’s covered in pie for kissing some guy
And his suit is entirely made of ****!

Now Shemp is big and burly
      so I call our cousin Curly
Our hairy bald cousin twice removed
To smell this awful stink
      and to see what he might think
‘Cause cleaning pie off’a ****
      is totally unproved!

So we washed it by hand while we listened to big band
Then stuffed it all in the industrial gas dryer
We played some cards, waxed poetic like bards
But my eyes got real big when we smelled smoke from a fire!

Now this gets real scary so we call our cousin Larry
And the rest of the NYFD
To help us out with his cousinly clout
Which we seldom do often, but rarely

But when they bust down my door I get madder all the more
And doink dear cousin Larry right smack in both eyes
Which angers his buddies, a real bunch of fire fuddy-duddies
Then suddenly from somewhere we all start throwing pies!

Pies from someplace straight into the fire chief’s face
In all their custard’s-last-stand-glory
Even that sweet-sweet girl next door gets cream-pied galore
And that, Your Honor, is my ***** Laundry Story.

(Translated from original Brooklyneze by Girard Tournesol)
> As published in The Pennsylvania Poet's Society magazine, PENNESSENCE.
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
There once was a man named Rick
Who carried a red blackthorn stick
He flailed it blatantly
that ancient shillelagh
The bataireacht fighter was quick!
Simon Soane Sep 2018
If the world should cave in two
I don’t know what I’d do
as I’m not Doctor Who
so I guess I’d just save you.
If you’re scared at night
and
if you've have had a fright
would you let me put it right
by turning on the light?
If you graze your knee
I’d give you something on me
my last plaster for free:

all these things I say
are here to make you smile
so you won’t run a mile
and
stick around for a while.
Kristina Weeks Aug 2018
Do not mistake
my silence for weakness
because my darling,
it is those who
speak the softest
that always carry
the biggest sticks
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Old enemies retold.
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