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#chicken
Life to a worldly egg? Sakes and the image of a music In your mind, too **** to beg? Liberate a shrewdness with a smile altruistic? Verse of a voice, that has no vogue Scent of a wish in the breeze, to add a road Light of the witness, we meant to a boat Where we wait on water, to gage a blind soul Smile and ponder, prosperity Your money on the line, is a true friend That has a loud question, for a wink of yours Rue the sight of a glass, in a frustrated glares lend Bare with me, your smile Antiquity is no hint of said hello's, except to create A crasser visit from the wish of a salty shyness Speak little me, and the tin of another, will begin to fate Tastey isn't it? A craving of lips and tongue, to sing the body electric With me as the angel of boding, that has a certain wit Smiles with no imagination, typically ask of a tomorrow, it
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May 15
May 15, 2026 at 3:00 PM UTC
Don't Pick Here, Unless We Say A Mirror
daisies bloom, solos boom, still warm, bodies warn grave words, poppy worms; headbang squirms their doom, moshing out garden's tomb! under petal, ground level, from afar, bizarre and gross up close, little more grandiose; under your nose, beneath your toes, ammo to oppose our foes! tremble... chickens assemble! over pedal, guitar rebel, a memoir of a festival mass-hell sick mess-hall; last table, beak-feast fable, proud soldiers stand tall! army bloated, locked and loaded, white death splatters ****** red war-in no way-out, out of hand; my friend, you did not misread, poop-bullets worm KFC-heads! I beg your pardon, excuse the jargon Talking about: "Worms for the Garden"
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May 13
May 13, 2026 at 4:09 PM UTC
"Worms for the Garden"
Why are infomercials [still] Simply satisfying? Whether it be cleaning something squeaky clean, Or cooking in a rotisserie, our commercials have become us; The ways, in which, we think, Or our attention spans of 30 seconds, or less; But why the repetitiveness, unto the wee morning hours Of cooking a chicken, and cleaning afterwards? ©2026Ellen Finn
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Jan 3
Jan 3, 2026 at 1:17 PM UTC
Satisfaction
Scientists have just discovered that the egg came before the chicken. But the philosophers are claiming that they ****** it out of their finger. I wonder how the egg feels about it; it must think of it a cracking joke! And chicken? Probably is saying: 'No way!' I bet it has ruined its day. And me? I'm just a human being, by the whole discourse unperplexed. The only question I ask is what's on my plate today: chicken or eggs?
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Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
Chicken Or Egg(s)
You're not as young as you used to be, stooped over with weak, and bad knees, your lower back is aching, there are pains everywhere, arthritis, aching joints, but Life has Been Fair, You can't move like you used to You are starting to slow down, You take your time now, Carefully moving yourself around You're fatigued, breathy and tired, You are out of breath indeed, You can't do it like you used to, Settling down is what you really need. Your bones are cracking, Your get up us gone People's move ahead of you As you are slowly pushing along Be careful what you do, and Please take your time, because, You're no spring chicken, Your youth has left you Behind!!! B.R. Date: 11/18/2025
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Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 1:58 PM UTC
You're No Spring Chicken
He was a cluck-fu chicken And he brought his feathered fight kickin' And there was no denying That he was masterful and mighty! He knew a chicken sensei Who trained him day and night The way to do instant striking moves 'Til his skill was out of sight But there's one thing that happened When push came to shove, He had to bring his full-fledged chicken fight from above!
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Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 12:23 PM UTC
Cluck-Fu Chicken Fight
i'm sorry i'm too chicken **** to confess to you i'm sorry my anxious *** can't tell you the truth there are so many ******* things i cant do so i'm sorry i'm too chicken **** to confess to you so for now i'll just flirt and blush like a schoolgirl with a lame ******* crush i'm sorry if i'm too much and i'll continue to hide how i actually feel, too many parts of me that i must conceal none of this even feels real and no matter how much i hide the truth i'm sorry i'm too chicken **** to confess to you
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May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 12:00 AM UTC
chicken ****
🦊 Even a fox has heroic tales to tell Epic chases, Narrow escapes, Bravery under Moonlight. But, every victory was won against chicken. 🐓
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May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 1:34 PM UTC
The Fox’s Glory
An Irishman once had the luck To find a free chicken to cluck:      They went to the coop      Where the chicken would ploop, But the chicken, turns out, was a duck.
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Mar 14, 2025
Mar 14, 2025 at 11:17 PM UTC
Luck o' the Irish
I got a chicken sandwich, I was hungry as a witch, But how I was disappointed, It was so underdone I was plucking feathers out it!
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Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
Scrapbook Poem #141
Mount Fuji obscures chicken-based tests conceal coop's top-notch t-rex flight assumes reveal scopes' Giant Robot outcomes: Buckethead's creativity nested Japan mounted ingenuity BucketheadLand's productivity ahead bucketbots' renowned enemy... wicked! Chickencoopscope made, bucket englobed goal fate, ideas parts perpetuum upgrade ignites bucketbots' graphic date KFC EMPLOYEES ON A PLASTIC PLATE!
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Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 4:36 AM UTC
Chickencoopscope
so, tell me, how does it feel to be, so, finger licken good you've, been puck, and tuck from the neck, down, to your feet so how, does, it, feel, to be so finger licken good you've, been powder, and pampered, and felt up, in places, you, yourself, couldn't, even reach so how, does, it, feel, to be, so **** tasty, just, so, lip, watering crispy that, I'd knock down my little, old granny, just, to get, a another, greasy, fried bite so, tell me, how does it feel to be, so, finger, licken, good that you have won, first place right on top of my plate so, tell me, how does it feel aka: lyricvixen
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Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 11:02 PM UTC
And The Winner Is Miss Poultry (Country-Crossover Lyric)
The stylish kitchen was where the chicken had to be prepared and couldn't be spared by the good old chef who was known as Jeff on that fateful day with the baking tray placed in the oven heated to govern the cooking of which was a dinner pitch for that very night with the stars so bright in the sky above everyone would love who were invited and be delighted on that occasion without persuasion to share in some feast not saying the least that could've been said if it was just bread with a bowl of stew for some hungry crew. And so it happened they were all fattened by the food they ate as they supped 'till late and when the time came the guests couldn't blame the chef or the host for the chicken roast and the side dishes which pleased the wishes of all the guests there who enjoyed the fare with many a thanks without any blanks and there it ended the night presented. All the guests who came did not leave the same because of the food eaten that was good. -------------------
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Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 10:16 PM UTC
Chef's Specialty
My granny loved Banny hens. They are small but they can be feisty. Just as was she.
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Jun 22, 2021
Jun 22, 2021 at 11:31 AM UTC
Banny Hen
****** chicken soup, Yum Yum, Puddles of chicken soup All over the space, There's a tornado of soup These days Plenty of chicken soup In the fridge too. Happy the family, Forevermore For gallons of chicken soup Every day made in the bathtub... Hot warming the heart to the bones ****** Bon on sweet Puddles of yum yum, On a plate the bowl Of YummyYum, ****** chicken soup.
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Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 4:38 PM UTC
BCS
My face growing like a sunshine because my chickens grew up like ostriches
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Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 8:43 AM UTC
Patience
Which came first: The chicken or the egg? Well, the **** of the walk Of course! You ought to know, silly kid, That he has always ruled the roost, — Kicking up dirt Crowing all the live-long day Fighting anything that he sees All to prove his strength. That's how he has always been, — One day, he just wanted to take his dominance That little step further And so, the world gave him a hen. So quiet and gentle Sweet and demure She balances him out quite nicely. She spends most of her days Resigned to her coop Laying egg after egg In her warm, dark room. She attends to the **** Whenever he wants her Then becomes a living factory once again, — Producing babies and food Food and babies. She does this for most of her life, — Until she gets too old, that is. She dries up, gets fat And, by Sunday, She'll be on our table for dinner. Laughing and chewing Clucking and squalling We'll sink our teeth in, Never once thinking About how her entire lifetime Was defined by giving And the **** — Well, it won't take him long To pick out a younger, prettier chick To take her place. Which came first, — The chicken or the egg? Obviously, it was the **** of the walk, — The one who screams his triumph at every sunrise The one whose meat is too tough for us to devour The one who will never, ever die. Everything else is just a page in his never-ending story, — Everything else Is merely consequential.
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 1:21 PM UTC
ballad of the rooster
Cherry plums for the small goat Pits for the large chicken Milk and water Bury; slaughter Remember to call me when it's done.
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Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 9:56 AM UTC
Chickens and Goats
We can stop and see the leaves stretched out above our head Our heads are not so high And it's only ground we tread My favorite part of life Just to breathe As I lay and watch the stars I feel the ground beneath Connecting me We can stop and see the leaves But what's connecting me Like roots spread out in all directions Our heads are not so high It's the simple ground we tread And in the soil Our lives we toil Yes our blood is in the soil And I just breathe I thank God for food to eat I feel the ground beneath As I lay and watch the stars Stretched out above our heads Our dreams are powerful It's the simple ground we tread My favorite part of life Connecting me The stars up high in heaven The roots of mighty tree And I just breathe Our lives we toil I thank God for food to eat And in the soil
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Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 3:26 AM UTC
Ode to the ground
I have to come out.. I won't offer lies.. there's something I just can't disguise, my tastes are different than other guys.. I'm simply in love with chicken *** pies! It started when I was quite small in size, when mom shopped for her weekly supplies. She worked all day and thought it'd be wise to make *** pies one of her regular buys. Loved 'em then, and this truth still applies- Don't give me fried chicken wings or thighs, don't serve a burger with greasy old fries, don't cook fancy foods and don't improvise.. There's one taste sensation I dearly prize! The best frozen meal you could ever devise! If you want to impress or want to surprise, just cook up a couple of chicken *** pies! Now that this poem has reached its demise, I'll pre-heat the oven and say my goodbyes.
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Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 10:00 AM UTC
Chicken *** Pies