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#imp
hell, I thought, and pain and death and **** all around me. hell with no escape, pain without relief, death amongst the living and **** compiled in the mirror in front of me. what I needed was an act of decadence to break the staleness, something spontaneous. so, I took back my last swallow full of whiskey, slicked back my hair and grabbed the first woman I saw by the hips. I pulled her closely to me, and then kissed her very passionately. she pushed me away almost instantly and as I turned around, she hit me in the back with her purse where I heard threats of violence come slithering through the air from her boyfriend’s tongue. I bade them all adieu and walked out the door. I was an imp without a care knowing that I have lived up to the very thing I want etched on my grave: regret nothing.
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Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 11:35 AM UTC
one night in a bar a decade ago
Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Michael Burch Cherubic laugh; sly, impish grin; Angelic face; wild chimp within. It does not matter; sleep awhile As soft mirth tickles forth a smile. Gray moths will hum a lullaby Of feathery wings, then you and I Will wake together, by and by.                          * Life’s not long; those days are best Spent snuggled to a loving breast. The earth will wait; a sun-filled sky Will bronze lean muscle, by and by. Soon you will sing, and I will sigh, But sleep here, now, for you and I Know nothing but this lullaby. Keywords/Tags: lullaby, child, cherubic, angelic, imp, chimp, mirth, sleep, snuggle, snuggled
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Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 6:09 AM UTC
Lullaby
Imp boy What big brown eyes you have How I wonder what they've seen What they have passed So small, so somber Your aura, I ponder You simmer in silence You observe your table I see that tension, cumber Built behind your gable Am I concerned I'm just in awe I'm a snow moth attracted To a dark imp boy, of all...
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 6:08 PM UTC
Imp Boy
Past the narrow sea, where lands the king, Squabbles for an ugly throne, havoc it brings, The blizzard, the chill, not the warmth of the summery spring, Here comes the walkers, with skulls on a string, Will the dragons spit fire? or the night’s watch sing? … Martin will get to **** more, Castamere a sting? I watch with eagerness, this fantasy has me glued, … times, I have smile back at the dwarf, and said, “DUUUUDDEEE” !!! The mother of dragons had me on one knee, but alas! nothing ensued, Bankers and black magic at Braavos, both were rude, Quarth, Mereen and Astapour, far from the royal feud, The sand snakes and the mountain, not much to conclude As it goes, “All men must die”! Martin plays his flute, not much to my cry, The TV remote, pepsi and potato fries, Predictions are hopeless, did you say Asshai? Seven kingdoms, give peace a try, Give me hope, even if its a lie!
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Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 2:04 PM UTC
The Imp, the Dragons and the White-walkers
When forever wears a watch, Even time can grow impatient, With the ticks and tocks of what hope could potentially Be
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
Potential ticks
Come and play in the land of the lost They who stay will come They will host They will charm Take a stroll along the beach Moonlight high in the sky Trail the bank that lines the lake Boatman glides and ripples the shine The breeze blow across the land Whispering trees with bent branches plan The revelry in secret groves In corners lost and never known Fairies shimmer among the leaves Imps grinning and hanging from the trees Laughs that ****** light and low Send me shivers across the land and though Sleeping children are far away Tucked tight in their beds Their dreams hold sway On their minds when they open sleepy eyes the next day Again at night they hear the laughs From a land beyond That reality has lost
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 10:32 PM UTC
A Lost Land
***She's an imp of a troublemaker fairy they call her Heather Featherwand she lives midst ancient ruins     'pon Saturn's ringlets           of ethereal ice & dust you might get a peek at her   neath a summertide night's dream, she wears lavender and tangerine   to blend in with the blazing cosmos,  her pale peachy butterfly wings     make sounds like katydids      singing in the treetops and          cicadas come to life at night   further adding to her mysterious flight, she took off one day, they say     with the man in the moon   and they've been starstruck ever after***
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
Heather Featherwand