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Yazad Tafti Dec 2018
i like **** of all sizes
no matter the shape we always make compromises
they're all generally hidden behind brassiere disguises
embellishing decorations that cover up glamorous prizes

i always got milk on hand
secreted from those voluptuous mammary glands
some may say they feel like water balloon brands
silicone addition seems like an unnecessary plan

honey nut oats with those titttiiiesss!
love yourself because i love you
mikumiku Dec 2018
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona
Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona
She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers
A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers

She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair
That with the wind dance as if out of very care
Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires
Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires

Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk
It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk
The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild
It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild

She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb
Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm
I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars
And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars

Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out
I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout
I want to spill it out, express my inner passion
But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion

Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines!
I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs
I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy
****, I am gonna offer her my cola *****

If men be ***** models, I shall be one too
I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view
If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I
This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine

I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus
Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus
I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade…
Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..?

“What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear
Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear
By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces?
Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
Justyn Huang Oct 2018
Smaller the *******
The bigger the brains, just go
Ask any Asian
**** them asian girls
Justyn Huang Oct 2018
**** did she have small *******
but wow how I ****** them--
And Loved Her
And all of Her the more.
haha just a cute joke
mikumiku Apr 2018
Rub your ***** against the window
I’ll rub mine against it too
We don’t need no ******* *****
We’ll invent the love anew
Use your mouth, your lips, and tongue
Give it freedom that it’s worth
Feel reborn, untouched, and young
As sky reunites with Earth
Make your palms, your hands, and skin
Vibrate with every touch
This is love, not ******* sin
Give it, take it, hold it, clutch
Now the ******* of my ****
Are as wide as my own eyes
Via them my love transmits
Via them my ***** dies
one girl pours out
her heart and soul
on paper with ink
and shares her true
emotions with the
world but doesn’t
receive as much
well deserved
recognition as the
other girl who has
only her **** to share

then there’s the
other girl who
has it
all:
the emotion
the heart
the soul
the ****
which essentially,
has nothing at all
but with the right know how
she can rule the world

I guess,
you have to die a little
first
if you wanna make it fast
No disrespect to women. Just an observation I’ve been noticing on other social media sites.
A Valentine's of swans, moonless river:
2 Ls in Vivaldi font ported to snowblindness
(hierotippexed), who glid down
the wrong discipline, along the Stygian
stave of the  Atonality headlining
after the Tracheotomy of the Spheres.

A Valentine's of swans, moonless river:
parabolic break action of snowman
shotguns, embonpoint tarred & cotton-
wooled, fires white flags. Flags up, starkly
conveyed upon black freshwater,  baggage
scanner at the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

A Valentine's of swans, moonless river:
the periscopes of ghost gnomes' U-boats
taking a gander (no geestimates!) at blackbrush
algae ops of Erebian Naiads. Or Arabian Night
Fever: anaemic Egyptians' one dancemove
cobraing from winged bicep, tricep breast.

A Valentine's of swans, moonless river:
aristocratic mullets scalped & mobsurfing
a revolutionary river of le grand non lavage.
O cob & pen powercouple are giraffe
dove ducks, to the Sovereign as prosaic
as pigeons are to oiks of Eros, me & my bird.
accompanying illustration: http://chirpydirges.co.uk/swanky/
(Disclaimer: this poem uses naturalistic, mildly racist language in a context that in no way should be construed as inciting hatred. I  disapprove thoroughly of hatecrimes or any thuggish misconduct. However, everything I write is the contextual servant of my existential-nativistic ethos of  authenticity of expression, and so for me no vocab can be taboo. I also **** off Tories in this part of the sequence, who I really do hate)

Altho' all in  all, alone is NO NO NO, by way of contrast written so:

I recall how,as a young horndog in t/ heydecade
of my 1st serious wuveydovey shackup,
upon 1 rosyfingered hideout from hardgraft
I'd feign slumber, a superfluously surreptitious,
welcome ******,  
at my not yet ex dressing for work,
squinting l/ a **** under redlights on t/ fritz
at her slipping on her bra after embrocating
& talcing her ****. My perving gurn & ****** asthma
florally niqabbed by t/ duvet,  1 f/  a wankbank
of poignancy such privileged access to her
fragrant ritual. Feminine finesse at fresheningup
arcane to mucky man pulling Sid James faces
from an enclave swaddled in her
similarly suaveolent ladylike linen,  
luxuriously laundered, unlike bachelor bedding,
on more than biannual basis.
Man, that was t/ most home I'd known.

Or should I be down t/ Square
(musical interlude:
'Take me down to Anglia Square,
t/ Poles &  t/ Pakis & t/ *** 'uns shop there
- O won't you please take me home, yeahayeahair!
Take me down to Anglia Square,
where everybody's got grease in their hair
- O won't you please take me home, yeahayeahair!
Take me down to Anglia Square,
t/ pikies & t/ paydaylenders rob there
- O won't you please take me home, yeahayeahair!),
anyway, should I be there
& my craggy babyblues home in on
t/ gravid grace of some cutiepatootie ma-to-be,
I wonder would it feel l/ home
were I t/ 1 entitled to place
his ear to t/ mound l/ a doting Tonto?
Another soppystern Lplater pater
supersoonerratherthanlater, squatting reporter
upon t/ latest mulekick w/in her tum of tendertautness,
only this time listening out f/ a Lysandero?
Away in a manger, no lone ranger danger,
may my wife be plainer & my kid less crazier
than me & know no knitted wallart should read
'Hell Sweet Hell', even if hell's kitsch. En

route to my supportgroup one stormy purple morn,
along Hotblack Road which ribald vandal
had rechristened 'Hotblack ****', I beheld
an amorphous austerity origami
of abandoned rags, then twignified they signified
an abandoned man, when I noticed  t/ peeling Nikes
poking out of t/ abject coat. Risible shelter rising
l/ a premature pall, f/ he was still respiring
w/ a shallow rise & fall. Lastnite's
2litres of Jaywick champagne now a blackout
memento brimming w/ t/ brusque rain,
upon his bedsidecabinet kerbstone
prelude to a mortuaryslab.
I never saw his face, only his effacement,
as British winter waterfall
of  permanent staycation smashed down.

Y'know, that ****** graffito was halfrite:
to a Tory t/ pavement jockey plight
of another is l/ ****. But don't underestimate
how sublimated sadosexual delight
tingling in Tories  breeding destitution
is full Thatcherite frisson when they undomesticate
fellow native Englishmen, feralise us
into cold & white Hotblack Top Cats living in bins:
f/ climaxing spoil of squires in Tory classwar
is classic victory over t/ purely poor.
Yet, that crumpled bundle of person in t/ rain
could win Buck House in Corbynomic sweepstakes,
in republican raffle come t/ revolution,
but after being that homeless in yr homeland,
how could anywhere feel home again?
Cat Fiske Oct 2015
*****.
Abused.
Photographed in the ****.
or even,
had a sextual comment told too.

Doesn't label you,
anything less than how you see you.

So stop **** shaming your victimized chicks,
who didn't seem to like you from your un puberized ****,

No one asked for this ****,
so do not blame them for it,
Stop.
Sethnicity Jul 2015
Todays Cubical
Is Contradistinction of
Tomorrows road trip
Time for a vaca! :)
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