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#subversion
There is Abundance in Solidarity And Scarceness in Isolation
0
May 18, 2024
May 18, 2024 at 5:54 PM UTC
Which Do You Choose
Kiss lips, hips twist- Fingers fumble and miss, Fist of hair, drum snare, The crowd blares, Fabric thin, trapped within, Electric current, skin on skin, **** tongue, come undone, How it feels to chew Five® Gum.
0
Feb 3, 2023
Feb 3, 2023 at 8:56 PM UTC
Bait, And...
I don’t want a poetic romance I know, that’s a new one it’s hard for folks to understand, sometimes that I don’t want my lover to shine like the sun I don’t need to see stars in his eyes or think endlessly about the soft skin on his thighs because my lover can be whatever he **** well wants who am I to walk in to fold him into boxes and metaphors like cages my love doesn’t look like yours and if you think that’s an insult take a step back and reconsider what love is what love means because I call love that feeling that I can’t describe to you because the words don’t exist yet or if they do they’re too simple for you and I to understand breakfast umbrella teardrop hold my lover is all these things and more and that is what I love for maybe one day he will no longer be umbrella maybe I’ll look at him some time and see that the breakfast in him has faded away and been replaced with something new sand, maybe poetry romance would tell me that this means something that I must look again look closer tear us apart until I find where it went because in poetry if you love something you must grab it with both hands for fear that it might escape I’d like to argue that that isn’t love but wanting my lover is a swimming pool cool and comfortable and jarring at first something from my childhood and my future because we will never stop going to the swimming pool my lover is unfolded laundry and all those unsightly things that are part of us morning breath nervous sweat before a first date finding out you don’t like the same movies and knowing that it’s okay I am just a man and so is he and I am breathless with having him and I dare to hope he is knocked breathless with having me as he does as he did as he will
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 4:35 PM UTC
Having
I don’t want a poetic romance I know, that’s a new one it’s hard for folks to understand, sometimes that I don’t want my lover to shine like the sun I don’t need to see stars in his eyes or think endlessly about the soft skin on his thighs because my lover can be whatever he **** well wants who am I to walk in to fold him into boxes and metaphors like cages my love doesn’t look like yours and if you think that’s an insult take a step back and reconsider what love is what love means because I call love that feeling that I can’t describe to you because the words don’t exist yet or if they do they’re too simple for you and I to understand breakfast umbrella teardrop hold my lover is all these things and more and that is what I love for maybe one day he will no longer be umbrella maybe I’ll look at him some time and see that the breakfast in him has faded away and been replaced with something new sand, maybe poetry romance would tell me that this means something that I must look again look closer tear us apart until I find where it went because in poetry if you love something you must grab it with both hands for fear that it might escape I’d like to argue that that isn’t love but wanting my lover is a swimming pool cool and comfortable and jarring at first something from my childhood and my future because we will never stop going to the swimming pool my lover is unfolded laundry and all those unsightly things that are part of us morning breath nervous sweat before a first date finding out you don’t like the same movies and knowing that it’s okay I am just a man and so is he and I am breathless with having him and I dare to hope he is knocked breathless with having me as he does as he did as he will
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67
Constriction is the missing key To make subversion fleece through Floss papers and faux notes Knowing that no one would notice But holy god if Removal of all Restraints and due process Didn't make for some ****** up **** Then it came full circle If you ask me Everyone is far too unnecessarily Coy All I can say is, whats the ******* point? I swear, no one says what they mean To protect whatever little Artistic integrity They might have left Or drummed up in a futile attempt To capitalize on a parasitic and spastic Completely arbitrary meteoric rise Like I heard a song on the radio That felt like static ******* why Did someone take the time To write lyrics So insipid Intrinsically missing Every point attempted Then second guessing And cross guessing And ******* up And overdressing Every single ******* word And there was only like Ten Of them in the song anyway Someone once said I was far too blunt And I should try and dance around my points So I took out my thesaurus Flipped straight to the word **** And made it clear I didn't give a ****
0
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 3:03 AM UTC
A bit of Ironic Irony that's ironic
Will of the world Freedom for all God given right. To **** Them all. Now we go It's time to fall Right out of line It's time to go We go Round and round on the circle Live by and die For what This force Drives home ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷ Music box ticks out a song Then stops Wind it back up ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷ Just like The lamb I came Blind and mute to the slaughter The same The same way As it goes It's just the same There is No longer hope Round and round on the circle We live and die For what This force Drives home Pouring my Iron down into the mold It glows Across my face My hands They quake And as it sets I can start to see My Face Round and round on the circle I watch them go Living to die By the hand Of a force Bringing them home And it's not much of A strech Ive come to second guess ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷ The music box shatters Deep inside me something feels chains crawling all along its back.
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Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 4:57 AM UTC
Subversion Of The Demonic Automation
Iggy & Lou, my iron angels I do love you two I am your sister now schooled in experience a Passenger a Transformer of dark days though, Lou they never tried to fry my brain thank god Iggy, what did you do when you were bored locked up what did you do to shock them I want to see your notes & what they wrote what havoc you caused if you tried to jump over the fence Boys, no matter how they treated you your music still came out they couldn't stop you & they won't stop me for with you, I am free donning my leather strutting my stuff spitting words out like charcoal & grit through the night's backside
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
Iggy Pop & Lou Reed
She is a man,in the blood stream, gushing within her veins. He acts her woman, willingly, and he likes it every bit. Together they create by chance, a tumultuous ****** history, never before seen, perhaps. This subversion remains a secret, with a meaning, on which they never ever bothered. A mighty cyclone, she transforms that uproots structures monumental if she really wants to trample everything. He is a prankster wind,that love billowing saplings; ripe rice as well. Hovering on air, over land and water, tumbling together, exploring depths, they create mysterious wind patterns, that add to the folk lore and myth.
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Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Subversion, but not by design
Under the spell Of that heavenly taste Welcome to hell With an angels embrace I will watch you Bleed
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
Blood