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#thrill
When I was kid, I’d look up at the sky and wave At the airplanes passing by, I’d wave down from an airplane Hung up high, I’d wave and think myself seen. I remember being seven years old and The hot air balloon operator said To keep all limbs inside the vehicle And my parents kept nudging me to the middle– Safe and nested. But I didn’t stay there for long, no I pushed out to the edge, on tiptoes to Look down at the great big Everything. Only half the thrill is fear of falling. The rest is how it feels to float.
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Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
Volander
I write (wrote) just for the thrill of it, I write (wrote) because I liked it a little bit. Verse was my drug of choice, And ingesting rhyme is the reason for my raspy voice. But I could stop whenever I wanted, Now I won't stop because it pleases you.
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Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 8:58 AM UTC
Write (Wrote)
Don't Rain on my Parade, You are not gonna rob my joy, So, just get on out of my way, Since you want to be a Killjoy. I am Here to have a good time, Not moping around looking all Sad, I want some EXCITEMENT, now THRILL ME!!! SHOW ME GREATEST TIME I HAVE EVER HAD!!! I am having SUCH A BLAST, the most FUN IS CLEARLY SHOWN, If you didn't want to HANG THEN, You should have stayed yourself at HOME!!! You are so DULL and so BORING, I am having a Grand Time, SO SORRY!!! I'm not letting you bring me down, Don't want to join, then see you Around!!!! I won't stop having a good time, or the fact that you are annoyed, I will keep enjoying myself, and You are not robbing me of my joy!! I will keep on with my HAPPINESS, Here I come, I am on my WAY!!! Whether you like it or not, are you in or out, YOU ARE NOT RAINING MY PARADE!!!!! B.R. Date: 11/26/2024
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Nov 26, 2024
Nov 26, 2024 at 6:29 PM UTC
🌧 Don't Rain on my Parade 🌧
You say I'm insane for Driving my brand new cabrio With its roof wide open In the pouring rain But have you ever tried?
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Sep 1, 2024
Sep 1, 2024 at 1:50 PM UTC
Little thrills
I am a caricature of humanity - a picture of its seething bowels. I am its sloshing, quivering, yet wholly earnest intestines made manifest - I am, the inside-out freak show we all crave dancing before your eyes oh, and what a feast of eloquent gizzards you witness! Feast your eyes, my friends! I am what you wish you weren't yet know you could be as you yearn to be as free as me all your shame and volatile desires all your sadness and madness all your dreamful bliss I profess it daily in an ode to you, my fathers and mothers, in an ode of love for absurdity, I am the cartoon character made free of its stage the puppet made free of its strings the loon, made free of his rage, a benign insanity, not capable of harming a germ. Don't pass by by all means gawk it's my pleasure that you do so breathe my callousness in shudder at the thought of being so exposed having all your human nature bleeding there like my crying eyes as I tell you of all my past loves and how I still love them yes even the meatloaf still eating it that baby towel still snuggling it that algebra homework? Still completing it and there's a missing grade somewhere in a dusty book in a warehouse imagine how I'd creep in, decades from now, hours before my death, open that tattered grade-book, pen myself an A+ for my immaculately completed work - fist pump the air! Take that Ms. Cramsworth! I may not have beaten algebra, but I beat you! Die right there in that warehouse amongst all the other freaks. There's Bigfoot, who slipped accidentally one day, got impaled by a branch, then called 911 - he had no health insurance, that's all she wrote. Bigfoot's just another disenfranchised-American statistic now. Bigfoot's last painful hours were spent taking selfies with holocaust deniers and people fashioning MAGA hats - some with rifles for effect - it was then Bigfoot regretted voting for Trump and only then. You were just rudely-awakened from having sympathy for Bigfoot, weren't you? Poor baby. Save our souls. Then there are the cryogenically frozen heads of the Illuminati we're all worried about - they're trying to sleep until humanity can make them superhuman bodies. A flying saucer that was alien in so far that it was actually a time-machine from our distant future that brought people back to warn us of an all-consuming genocidal calamity, but they spoke a language we didn't understand, had genetically surpassed us, and therefore were unrecognizable to our labs, and we took their highly-advanced babbling as acts of war when they tried to **** the Illuminati heads - killed the so-called aliens then, so tragic - ate their gizzards for research. Now we're all doomed to die... Their bodies were lain next to the Illuminati heads. Centuries later, the same couple, now janitors from the freak warehouse, see themselves, find the time-machine-saucer, and start the time-loop again... inadvertently causing the end of humanity because they messed up the timeline. ... and that's exactly why I never did my homework. Humanity is doomed to die in some distant future caused by the doom-couple and so I refused to put a brick in the wall. I refused because all I was was a...nother brick in the wall and I hated it. Because as fascinating as I am. As absurd as I am. As much of a human marvel as I am. I don't matter. I matter the least. And so that's why I had to die in that off-the-books warehouse, full of priceless and unmentionable artifacts. They wouldn't ever put me there, but I had to die with the legends. I had to give my life meaning somehow. If I can't live a legend, I will die one... by the way the janitors put me in the trash out back anyway. I end up in an east-Asian landfill somewhere, kicked in the face by barefoot sweatshop kids who just so happened to make the sneakers on my very feet. Isn't that poetic justice? What a send-off! And so isn't that all a satisfying and cathartic end, giving closure to the most absurd poem, with the most random details, wasn't that fun?
0
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 7:48 PM UTC
The Dancing Gizzards of Freud...
I am a caricature of humanity - a picture of its seething bowels. I am its sloshing, quivering, yet wholly earnest intestines made manifest - I am, the inside-out freak show we all crave dancing before your eyes oh, and what a feast of eloquent gizzards you witness! Feast your eyes, my friends! I am what you wish you weren't yet know you could be as you yearn to be as free as me all your shame and volatile desires all your sadness and madness all your dreamful bliss I profess it daily in an ode to you, my fathers and mothers, in an ode of love for absurdity, I am the cartoon character made free of its stage the puppet made free of its strings the loon, made free of his rage, a benign insanity, not capable of harming a germ. Don't pass by by all means gawk it's my pleasure that you do so breathe my callousness in shudder at the thought of being so exposed having all your human nature bleeding there like my crying eyes as I tell you of all my past loves and how I still love them yes even the meatloaf still eating it that baby towel still snuggling it that algebra homework? Still completing it and there's a missing grade somewhere in a dusty book in a warehouse imagine how I'd creep in, decades from now, hours before my death, open that tattered grade-book, pen myself an A+ for my immaculately completed work - fist pump the air! Take that Ms. Cramsworth! I may not have beaten algebra, but I beat you! Die right there in that warehouse amongst all the other freaks. There's Bigfoot, who slipped accidentally one day, got impaled by a branch, then called 911 - he had no health insurance, that's all she wrote. Bigfoot's just another disenfranchised-American statistic now. Bigfoot's last painful hours were spent taking selfies with holocaust deniers and people fashioning MAGA hats - some with rifles for effect - it was then Bigfoot regretted voting for Trump and only then. You were just rudely-awakened from having sympathy for Bigfoot, weren't you? Poor baby. Save our souls. Then there are the cryogenically frozen heads of the Illuminati we're all worried about - they're trying to sleep until humanity can make them superhuman bodies. A flying saucer that was alien in so far that it was actually a time-machine from our distant future that brought people back to warn us of an all-consuming genocidal calamity, but they spoke a language we didn't understand, had genetically surpassed us, and therefore were unrecognizable to our labs, and we took their highly-advanced babbling as acts of war when they tried to **** the Illuminati heads - killed the so-called aliens then, so tragic - ate their gizzards for research. Now we're all doomed to die... Their bodies were lain next to the Illuminati heads. Centuries later, the same couple, now janitors from the freak warehouse, see themselves, find the time-machine-saucer, and start the time-loop again... inadvertently causing the end of humanity because they messed up the timeline. ... and that's exactly why I never did my homework. Humanity is doomed to die in some distant future caused by the doom-couple and so I refused to put a brick in the wall. I refused because all I was was a...nother brick in the wall and I hated it. Because as fascinating as I am. As absurd as I am. As much of a human marvel as I am. I don't matter. I matter the least. And so that's why I had to die in that off-the-books warehouse, full of priceless and unmentionable artifacts. They wouldn't ever put me there, but I had to die with the legends. I had to give my life meaning somehow. If I can't live a legend, I will die one... by the way the janitors put me in the trash out back anyway. I end up in an east-Asian landfill somewhere, kicked in the face by barefoot sweatshop kids who just so happened to make the sneakers on my very feet. Isn't that poetic justice? What a send-off! And so isn't that all a satisfying and cathartic end, giving closure to the most absurd poem, with the most random details, wasn't that fun?
Continue reading...
74
it let the bird fly, learn, grow, change. but when the bird falls, stays the same, decays, a thrill climbs up our bones as the crack of the wishbone echoes in our expectant ears like a loud, resounding gong - as our supposed fate awaits.
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Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 1:02 AM UTC
wishbone.
The purest sexuality is not being left excited by one’s ****** like a forbidden fruit or found in metaphors via allusions of one’s wild aphrodisiac breath or resembling it phones/melody during *********** in the bed; it is the moment of philias and events that leave you finitely burnt from the inside, reforming you and leaving you anew for burning again And humans aren’t its source they’re just its vessel. Just like poems kiss knowing: no lips in flesh will be able to replace them for you. The same goes with the choice of a human language till we’re still here.
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Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 10:41 AM UTC
You'll Never Reach Your High If You Want To Mean Only Body
Love you, I. With your maddening grace hold me tight in a thrilling embrace. Take my heart (whole my being), please. Let me drown in your luscious kiss.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 1:28 PM UTC
Love You, I
a sight to see, the beauty yet to be, thrilling chase—surpass, wonders, waiting to blast!
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Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 12:19 PM UTC
wonder
You’re like the last part of fall When the leaves all fall off When the good part’s gone Who you used to be was so fun The thrills of new seasons come and go And all you’re left with is the cold Without the magic of the snow Who you used to be was so good When everything has turned to grey Without the peace that comes from rain When all the colors fade away Who you used to be was so great
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Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC
Used To
Jealous of a person that I don't even know Angry with the person that let me go I hardly recognize who I am anymore Never have I harbored this much bitterness before Walk me through the differences between me and her Like walking the whole distance California to Virginia A task so vast it seems insurmountable Tell me what it means to you to promise things in double Do you take her to the same places you and I would go The thought of her tainting our lookout is enough to make me burn Take her hammocking in our tree in the park close to school At galaxie view remember when it was my body lying next to you West Beach, Thousand Steps, Newport 56 Huntington, Laguna, San Diego for a switch There is nothing new you possibly could do Drive the whole coast searching, but you and I did that too I hope I drive her crazy I honestly hope she hates me I hope I cause you lots of problems because your dreams still portray me Realizing on the daily how you mistakenly betrayed me I hope when you're with her you feel haunted with regret I hope the thrill falls flat and conversation lies dead And you walk away painfully aware Of the fact that what we had was rare Not every girl can take the late night thoughts you gave me If you write her paragraphs past midnight Then you're downright ******* crazy Playing house with every person who is duped into the role play If anyone asks, jealousy made me
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Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 6:14 PM UTC
Jealous
That spark I remember feeling so alive So happy Innocent Bliss We didn’t care about anything else except the moment We weren’t worried about what people thought We were true to ourselves But that’s the best part We didn’t know it then But we know it now
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Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 1:19 AM UTC
Childhood spark
Looking for that thrilling chase, Where knowledge is armour And passion is sword, Where bravery is known as 'explore'
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May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 11:24 AM UTC
dreams_1
my lover he once told me that he would like to be tattooed onto me but between my ribs pounding with the octaves of his words my skin delirious for his curious touch and my mind immersed with the thrill that he brought forth I forgot to tell him I forgot to tell him that I didn't like tattoos
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Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 11:25 AM UTC
tattoo
Look at the world from the Window of heartland Calling on me in the mid April To take you to a forest;Perhaps To walk on the edge of a thrill My feelings are touched;Both with passion & ration I might've flied thousands of Miles;When you decided to be the Reason of my smiles Motherland isn't a place;As fatherland is a feeling you can never leave it behind a window screen!
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Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 11:06 AM UTC
April Thrill
Sedate me with your stare Bring me high above the clouds. Your touch is exhilarating; In the cover of darkness our hearts meet; Our fingers, our thighs; A secret is burgeoning. You keep on stealing from me. Your glances. Stop; don't stop. Take it all. My doors are unlocked. But what does it all mean? In my mind I rest my head, On your shoulders; My hands are reaching out to you Yet our hearts never felt so far away. Can I tell you my secret? Your hands are rough, But I want it around mine. Do our lips fit like puzzles do? Come on, lets fan the flames, Of this candlelit romance. Is it really you I'm meeting in the dark? My head keeps hitting the window; Potholes on the road. Another day. Another dream. The airwaves between us are silent. Am I a fool for honing in on your signals? It's so exciting, my one-sided romance.
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Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 9:30 AM UTC
now that you've moved on...
It’s still surreal I can’t believe it I... I did this God... what have I done? Why am I covered in lines? Marks of illness and self hatred Truly, I loathe few things more Because I see all of me And you should stay away I will destroy what’s close As long as I get a thrill
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Mar 19, 2020
Mar 19, 2020 at 2:50 AM UTC
Lines of Hate
Scratching itches with bottle caps, grooves In my brain cut from diamonds and blood Flinging my shadow like darts at a wall Frustration, when dizzied, transforms into love Scabs and guitar riffs I'd shred with my teeth Gnawing her lips to bake blackberry flesh Stamping on baubles, an aureate hail In a winter that reeks of sweet summer death This circus of wildfire charcoals my hair I'm yearning to stay but it blazes me out Cold air and bored stares, a knock on the jaw I thought I had finished bedazzling myself I've underwhelmed the brightness I chase Adrenaline fawns over prettier girls Cold and alone in a fitful night's sleep When you're fevered and worn, the splinters stick deep.
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Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 7:30 AM UTC
Adrift
Serafina was a skydiver And she was always falling. Jimmy was her instructor And the next in line. "The thrill of love," she said, "Is about how high you can climb." If the moment's spent She parachutes out. A risk, No doubt. But on she plays, Crossing her fingers This idée fixe Never comes crashing back to earth.
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
Limerence on Cloud 9
room full of smoke i didn't know beds could be this comfortable i didn't know you could be this sweet i didn't know a lot of things before hitting that blunt but you showed me everything you showed me another world that i've never seen you showed me the beauty i didn't know i had you showed me pleasure i didn't know existed but you scared me you drove 40 miles over the limit you handed me a gun that still had a bullet in it you wrapped your hand around my throat and squeezed and i'm scared because... i loved it. i've never met that side of me.
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Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 8:52 PM UTC
you make me scared of me