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"archie" poems
A poet's supposed to only post poetry If I try to do anything different under a pseudonym They'd know it's me They're not too dim To shine a light on similarity Between two varying laugh tracks despite all the hilarity Been getting down to brass tax with a microscope I could read the fine print even if both my eyes were closed So tie the rope tightly around your own necks As I work far outside of my trajectory from how I make the bow flex If I was Archie mixed with Cupid I would Follow an arrows arc like an archery marksman whose targets are Betty and Veronica's beating hearts And when they get hit, They both fall pretty hard And meet me in my back yard where I get their backs archin' Point is, I've got precision aim When I'm shooting for emotions Make you never feel a thing Make you clear minded and focused Let you all in on my pain Have you buzzin' like a locust
0
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
, Both the Artist and the Muse.
I'm Archie Andrews with satanic tattoos The Lucifer beneath your cute suburb I'm the devil who hides inside the back of your mind And you hate me but you love the way I hurt, Don't you baby? My venom is still in your veins Withdrawal is driving you insane There's only one cure for the pain And you'll never be getting that again I am your EVIL EX BOYFRIEND And though I tried to make amends Your bitterness will never end So I guess this is Good Riddance I know you miss me but you're still with him now You hate me - but you keep on calling me, somehow... When you get drunk, it's all "I need you, baby!" But once you sober up I know **** well you'll ******* hate me All over again.... My venom is still in your veins Withdrawal is driving you insane There's only one cure for the pain And you're never getting that again! I am your EVIL EX BOYFRIEND And though I tried to make amends Your bitterness will never end So farewell and Good Riddance I'm the EVIL EX BOYFRIEND All over again....
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Evil Ex-Boyfriend (All Over Again)
Oh Archie, The Don speaks so kindly to our generation... I wish you were here to hear, To lament, with me... Oh Archie, It seems so difficult this modern life. This place of no rewards, ...no one knows what started it all, how life was great once here in America. Oh Archie, They've taken over your favorite past-time, television! They're everywhere nowadays my love... You can't get away from them; like cock-a-roaches. I see them out in the marketplaces and wonder; "Can these people understand English?" "Do they remember that white people saved the world in WWII?" "Do they care that someone else built civilization?" Oh Archie, ...my love, I miss you.
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Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
Archie, my love...
i guess there are some people who just don’t realize how preposterous they sound when using social media. yeah, maybe you’re one. no one is safe from suspicion: -the comedians (their own biggest fan types) the witty commentators                     jumping in from the far corner. (you wonder how someone who learnt every word they know      from about six Archie comics is allowed to use social networking) -oh and the girls                    who post new selfies every day. (in fact there’s one, i swear, posts so often                       so regular                                       i barely need a watch. “here’s the three-fifteen cleavage shot.” —she’s long since been hidden!) and wait here’s that fella who speaks out about injustices; firecrackers taped in a doberman’s mouth, which is awful, sick, repulsive—and bravo for making the universe aware, i applaud thee, but it’s the rambling included about what you’d do if you ever caught them (curbstomping, mutilating, beatings) that gives me goosebumps. i don’t wanna see this kid’s mug in the paper next week/point & say “christ i knew it!” ..so maybe keep the ****** fantasy off the web, eh? & then of course the weirdness too weird to properly recall example: an acquaintance's call for attention “i need a hug :(“ and the random girl probably th’sister of a friend (which is bizarre in its own right, adding a friend's younger sibling.. but i won’t bother delving there tonight) who replies: *“hey you should come here instead and see the skunk that just came by my window if you wanna?”* —what is this absurdity? and hey here’s an answer to your original call: internet hugs don’t work.     computers don’t hug in binary, man. 0110101110101101111001010010101011011010110101110101010101                                          >—O—< —i’ll never understand it.
0
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 1:42 AM UTC
12:27 AM facebook propositions to come over & see a skunk
i guess there are some people who just don’t realize how preposterous they sound when using social media. yeah, maybe you’re one. no one is safe from suspicion: -the comedians (their own biggest fan types) the witty commentators                     jumping in from the far corner. (you wonder how someone who learnt every word they know      from about six Archie comics is allowed to use social networking) -oh and the girls                    who post new selfies every day. (in fact there’s one, i swear, posts so often                       so regular                                       i barely need a watch. “here’s the three-fifteen cleavage shot.” —she’s long since been hidden!) and wait here’s that fella who speaks out about injustices; firecrackers taped in a doberman’s mouth, which is awful, sick, repulsive—and bravo for making the universe aware, i applaud thee, but it’s the rambling included about what you’d do if you ever caught them (curbstomping, mutilating, beatings) that gives me goosebumps. i don’t wanna see this kid’s mug in the paper next week/point & say “christ i knew it!” ..so maybe keep the ****** fantasy off the web, eh? & then of course the weirdness too weird to properly recall example: an acquaintance's call for attention “i need a hug :(“ and the random girl probably th’sister of a friend (which is bizarre in its own right, adding a friend's younger sibling.. but i won’t bother delving there tonight) who replies: *“hey you should come here instead and see the skunk that just came by my window if you wanna?”* —what is this absurdity? and hey here’s an answer to your original call: internet hugs don’t work.     computers don’t hug in binary, man. 0110101110101101111001010010101011011010110101110101010101                                          >—O—< —i’ll never understand it.
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61
Ballads R-U the nourishment Like the Bella baby greens Tossing your salad like The artwork deviant Like the myriad The musical chairs Messages unique piece Playing the brain organs The new road of legions Cerebellum moving Perky pinks the possum We move into a certain era Intense Opera breathing, pacing, dreaming More feeding the balance of love needing Musical digestion Heart rate inside your movement shows affection All themes like soap operas The nervous system musical brain Gets damaged like the Asylum So emotional heartbeat got more rhythm Your hums needing tums The Lifes crises But not feeling accountable the brains works Every function ballads of love Inside your heart diction Like the ballad-making Your best transformation Orchestrated hands to lead The musical brain Love letters arrive on the train So tranquil love physical momentarily Has a certain quality like the ballad of love mutiny We find in life its a long sip The brain wave long neck           Giraffe hot cafe We feel everyone's tragedy Living so high in the (Castle) the step up Not giving up the highness the majesty the brain depressed But such a parody foods for the soul no control eating binge You want to dodge out But you're the musical genius Magical brain fast and furious Is tricky to remember you have          The talent          To be Lucky* Fill it with love and gravity He's the laughing stock of the comics Like the simple life He's the built-in love a ballad with such structure The popular form of poetry Musical notes a blend of symmetry Chariots of fire the key to love Whats truly above all we need is love He takes your breath away Reading into the        "Britannica" Archie comics and Veronica Historical moments Cleopatra The ballads of culture Songs we remember I love September the day I was born Ballads and songs "My Girl" "Stop Look Listen to your heart" "Love is all around" You came to the right place Peace and love, please stick around we love you
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:40 AM UTC
Ballads Musical Brain
Ballads R-U the nourishment Like the Bella baby greens Tossing your salad like The artwork deviant Like the myriad The musical chairs Messages unique piece Playing the brain organs The new road of legions Cerebellum moving Perky pinks the possum We move into a certain era Intense Opera breathing, pacing, dreaming More feeding the balance of love needing Musical digestion Heart rate inside your movement shows affection All themes like soap operas The nervous system musical brain Gets damaged like the Asylum So emotional heartbeat got more rhythm Your hums needing tums The Lifes crises But not feeling accountable the brains works Every function ballads of love Inside your heart diction Like the ballad-making Your best transformation Orchestrated hands to lead The musical brain Love letters arrive on the train So tranquil love physical momentarily Has a certain quality like the ballad of love mutiny We find in life its a long sip The brain wave long neck           Giraffe hot cafe We feel everyone's tragedy Living so high in the (Castle) the step up Not giving up the highness the majesty the brain depressed But such a parody foods for the soul no control eating binge You want to dodge out But you're the musical genius Magical brain fast and furious Is tricky to remember you have          The talent          To be Lucky* Fill it with love and gravity He's the laughing stock of the comics Like the simple life He's the built-in love a ballad with such structure The popular form of poetry Musical notes a blend of symmetry Chariots of fire the key to love Whats truly above all we need is love He takes your breath away Reading into the        "Britannica" Archie comics and Veronica Historical moments Cleopatra The ballads of culture Songs we remember I love September the day I was born Ballads and songs "My Girl" "Stop Look Listen to your heart" "Love is all around" You came to the right place Peace and love, please stick around we love you
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83
Deaths Of 2013 My third year doing this. Paul Walker, Texas ranger, driving fast leads to danger. Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown, Paul Bearer always wore a frown. Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini, always played a mobster meany. Peter O'Toole, famous actor, Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher. President Nelson Mandela, Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella. Lou Reed, is now on the wild side, took all the colored girls for a ride. Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin, tv actors who had white skin. Paul Blair and Stan The Man, playing baseball, when they can. Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly, both had ***** that bounced like jelly. Tom Clancy wrote famous books, not much on having good looks. Cory Montieth and Patti Page, one died young, other of old age. Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker, Archie always put her in the dumper. Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones, played football and broke some bones. Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips, they both gave good and bad tips. Ray Manzarek, from The Doors, Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords. Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself, Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf. Mindy McCready and George Jones, both hit those country tones. Chris Kelly from Kris Kross, Ed Koch is a New York loss. David Frost and Roger Ebert, always had words to insert. Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club, Eydie Gorme almost got a snub. Jonathan Winters, was very funny, to come from Mork's egg, made him money. If you don't know who these people are, look them up, internet not very far. For the ones that I missed, please don't get to ******
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
Deaths Of 2013 My third year doing this. Paul Walker, Texas ranger, driving fast leads to danger. Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown, Paul Bearer always wore a frown. Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini, always played a mobster meany. Peter O'Toole, famous actor, Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher. President Nelson Mandela, Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella. Lou Reed, is now on the wild side, took all the colored girls for a ride. Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin, tv actors who had white skin. Paul Blair and Stan The Man, playing baseball, when they can. Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly, both had ***** that bounced like jelly. Tom Clancy wrote famous books, not much on having good looks. Cory Montieth and Patti Page, one died young, other of old age. Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker, Archie always put her in the dumper. Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones, played football and broke some bones. Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips, they both gave good and bad tips. Ray Manzarek, from The Doors, Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords. Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself, Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf. Mindy McCready and George Jones, both hit those country tones. Chris Kelly from Kris Kross, Ed Koch is a New York loss. David Frost and Roger Ebert, always had words to insert. Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club, Eydie Gorme almost got a snub. Jonathan Winters, was very funny, to come from Mork's egg, made him money. If you don't know who these people are, look them up, internet not very far. For the ones that I missed, please don't get to ******
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48
I sat there mediocrity Was my middle name Funny built had a skinny frame Peculiarities a topic For gossip at the way I dressed Always overlooked for the popular Wasn't really a nerd But I sure got the association Trying to fit in was tough It was always the Becky's the Archie's And Veronica's I'm happy now got a great marriage   Successful kids I even have the job I alway's dreamt of Needless to say the popular Pluses attended the High school reunion.... lesser But that's OK too It's not a thing with me
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
High school it is ok to be lesser
Dear Archie, It's best you find your bunker The world as we know it Has certainly gone asunder Political correctness Don't it make you wonder If we should be taking names And writing down their numbers Oh and Archie, Lucky now your six feet under Out of lightenings range And all the man made thunder Those were the days We could laugh like ****** At each other Goodbye Archie bunker
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
Archie Bunker (those were the days)
The illumination rounds light up the sky, My love, and it's time for us to embark Where the heavens are our cover The darkness is our saviour, and Only victory our release. For you know how it is m' dear When the lead starts to rain The field rages hot with fire And in the heat of it, you alone Stand besides me, unflinching Unquenchable spitfire that you are The world dances to the Lady's whims The night and snow close around us. But in you alone, there is a comfort. To face death and come what may, For when the sun shines again. Our hour shall have come. We march together for glory awaits us But so does death. And he waits. He watches. He sends down fire, and splinter and shot and shell And you never fail to reply . He shudders the earth and melts rock, And yet your aim is true. Victory is enshrined in your musical chatter For even though I lie, with you in my blood smeared, You live to fight another day. My victory is your resilience. My courage is your accuracy. My sacrifice is your continuum. Your mortals have fallen many times afore you. And yet you soldier on. Unheralded unlike him, with bronze on his chest. You deal in lead. And in victory . At the end of all things, you alone stay with me.
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Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:55 AM UTC
Archie
i watch them browse the magazines wedding dresses *** hints fashion sips a celebrity scandal a celebrity beauty tip i watch them consume calories i see works about wars long past fantastic other lands lore of presidents long gone I wonder if immortality for deeds done warrants anything next to red carpet fashion i see Archie and that knucklehead crew I see Simpsons, Wolverine, passing times and somewhere I can see me and you wake up today go to sleep tonight there is no hunger go to sleep now, fool you have nothing to add
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
there is no hunger like none
I’m wrenched awake with a swaying hangover, the kind that rumbles in the back of your throat until mid-afternoon. I know that I’m late without turning my head but the only movement is the whir of the box fan in the window and the sinewy muscle of my calves twitching near the end of the bed. It’s hard to wake up when the world outside the door has been in this way, insistent in it’s painfulness, and part of me wants to succumb to the quiet hum of this bedroom, disappear into the sheets and pretend for a moment that I never met Jordan Whitaker. A scalding shower and a thermos of lukewarm coffee later, the sun seems way too cheery for the way my insides feel and I want to scowl at it. I swallow the bile for a moment to toss a ‘good morning’ to the old woman dragging her walking cane to the end of the driveway. She used to drop by with cookies from time to time, but it’s been a while. I can see the toll of age and defeat on her cheeks like a fragment of my future and I have to turn away from it, towards the blinding sun mocking me quietly. “You done yet?” I hear his voice before I see him, taunting me in the way only a man in a position of superiority can. Archie is filthy with the kind of grease that doesn’t wash off, and all of my tricks to keep unwanted hands away, even a stubborn and unyielding androgyny, has not deterred him yet. I spit at the sidewalk before his foot lands in stride next to me, and he jerks a bit but keeps pace. “You know, I’ve got someone on the inside of the courtroom today. Maybe you scratch my back, I scratch yours, that kind of thing?” These words are accompanied by a haphazard set of teeth leering in some semblance of a smile. The smell alone is enough to make me want to start sprinting, but I keep my tone and pace level. “I’m not telling you again, Archie. My leads are my own. I’ll get in there just fine.” “Oh, the bitch’s feeling feisty today, I see!” I watch a bead of sweat collect between his eyes as he watches me, like a pockmark. “You’re kidding yourself if you think they’ll let you anywhere near the trial with the stunt you pulled last week. You should stop taking me for granted, you know!”
0
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
2068
I’m wrenched awake with a swaying hangover, the kind that rumbles in the back of your throat until mid-afternoon. I know that I’m late without turning my head but the only movement is the whir of the box fan in the window and the sinewy muscle of my calves twitching near the end of the bed. It’s hard to wake up when the world outside the door has been in this way, insistent in it’s painfulness, and part of me wants to succumb to the quiet hum of this bedroom, disappear into the sheets and pretend for a moment that I never met Jordan Whitaker. A scalding shower and a thermos of lukewarm coffee later, the sun seems way too cheery for the way my insides feel and I want to scowl at it. I swallow the bile for a moment to toss a ‘good morning’ to the old woman dragging her walking cane to the end of the driveway. She used to drop by with cookies from time to time, but it’s been a while. I can see the toll of age and defeat on her cheeks like a fragment of my future and I have to turn away from it, towards the blinding sun mocking me quietly. “You done yet?” I hear his voice before I see him, taunting me in the way only a man in a position of superiority can. Archie is filthy with the kind of grease that doesn’t wash off, and all of my tricks to keep unwanted hands away, even a stubborn and unyielding androgyny, has not deterred him yet. I spit at the sidewalk before his foot lands in stride next to me, and he jerks a bit but keeps pace. “You know, I’ve got someone on the inside of the courtroom today. Maybe you scratch my back, I scratch yours, that kind of thing?” These words are accompanied by a haphazard set of teeth leering in some semblance of a smile. The smell alone is enough to make me want to start sprinting, but I keep my tone and pace level. “I’m not telling you again, Archie. My leads are my own. I’ll get in there just fine.” “Oh, the bitch’s feeling feisty today, I see!” I watch a bead of sweat collect between his eyes as he watches me, like a pockmark. “You’re kidding yourself if you think they’ll let you anywhere near the trial with the stunt you pulled last week. You should stop taking me for granted, you know!”
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12
dear Archie, you are the highlight of our lives. you lovingly give out hugs and cuddles. you snuggle with your blanket and look like an angel. even when you run into the house from the yard with mud and dirt and grime clinging to your face and your tongue out in a smile. your ears perfectly frame your face and you're adorable when you put one up. you curiously tip your head to the side, even as I am writing this with you in my lap, to the sound of a clicking keyboard. you're very much obsessed with blankets, although you have taken a newfound liking to your bed, labeled Archie. you have quite the personality, let me tell you. you, just today, refused to put your harness and leash on to let us take you on a walk. you felt bad about what you did, so at dinner, you sat beside me and waited for me to tell you you were Good Boy. as predicted, you got what you wanted. when I walk downstairs in the morning, you're either sleeping in the bed (with Banky, of course), or snuggling with Mama or Daddy. when I leave for school, you say bye to me at the door. when it's time for me to come home, you look out the window for me. you even watch our soap operas. what dog can do that? you are basically the perfect dog anyone could ever ask for.
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Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC
the perfect companion
Tom and Jerry, Laurel and Hardy, Batman and Robin, Fred and Barney, Frodo and Sam, Bert and Ernie too, Tom Sawyer and Huck, adventures anew. Lone Ranger and Tonto, Snowy and Tintin, Chip and Dale, Snoopy and Woodstock grin, Archie and Jughead, Holmes and Watson wise, Lucy and Ethel, their antics arise. Larry, Curly, and Moe, a comical trio, Mutt and Jeff, Luke and Han Solo, Lois and Clark, a super pair indeed, These bonds of friendship, on screen we read. But as the credits roll and the pages close, A question lingers, as doubt grows: Are these friendships, so perfect and true, Reflections of bonds between me and you? Real friendships are messy, they ebb and flow, Not always in sync, not always aglow. Yet in their imperfection, we find A beauty that's real, one of a kind. So cherish your friends, both near and far, For in life's story, that's who you are. Fiction may inspire, but reality's test Proves true friendship is earth's real quest.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:31 PM UTC
Friends
Archie Monroe, the swollen bell ringer of Lavender Moor, Is looking to sell his copper claw, His wartime Horlick’s pedals, And his ferocious bone lick with its wet mink sheath. He half believes in two thirds of a God every other end of the day. He believes in St. Clank, and the spanking of the parable, He believes in the Holy Bee and the miracle of the monocle. He's walking all lookable He talks about succulent; The warm unbuttoned government; The other worldly succubus, And tickled sinners such as us Who never want to make a fuss. The curled up nurse of Russia Road is building ghosts of crimson brick, Hurting the sick, and Christmas pale With the poisoned tip of her sharpened nail. She nestles by comparison with the dullards of noon. Who would have thought it expensively cruel To do it in the dentist froth, Now that she's lost in Hoxton Square? Barely able to breath; Hairy and **** Sticky to the last. See the violent and widespread bed spasms of Arbuckle’s bottle, And the lamp lit cancer of corrosive blue whining, The ill mannered throat-goose And the manicured miscarriage of Mendleson's twenty fourth mother. Felix was peeling We knew it to be true, Even back then In the pickled omentum. The pompous rebuffs and the transparent gloves of yawning; It seemed not she like. See the museum’s scratched trumpet mask of medical sod, And the soft dissection of the ink ***** Implements of ticking and slip with the slow itch and clop. The anatomy doll, all green and glad; Its uncertain internal shrinking of Crippen; The skull’s Baron of the Intact Apparent. She cradles her parents in terrified liver Resembling dill with an unusual, excitable finish. Meanwhile out in Kraków: The idiotic London guillotine shop Shows eight obscene operation reveals trembling on a saucer. This, I'm unafraid to never say, is not almost uncertainly bowel pay.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 6:33 AM UTC
#1
Archie Monroe, the swollen bell ringer of Lavender Moor, Is looking to sell his copper claw, His wartime Horlick’s pedals, And his ferocious bone lick with its wet mink sheath. He half believes in two thirds of a God every other end of the day. He believes in St. Clank, and the spanking of the parable, He believes in the Holy Bee and the miracle of the monocle. He's walking all lookable He talks about succulent; The warm unbuttoned government; The other worldly succubus, And tickled sinners such as us Who never want to make a fuss. The curled up nurse of Russia Road is building ghosts of crimson brick, Hurting the sick, and Christmas pale With the poisoned tip of her sharpened nail. She nestles by comparison with the dullards of noon. Who would have thought it expensively cruel To do it in the dentist froth, Now that she's lost in Hoxton Square? Barely able to breath; Hairy and **** Sticky to the last. See the violent and widespread bed spasms of Arbuckle’s bottle, And the lamp lit cancer of corrosive blue whining, The ill mannered throat-goose And the manicured miscarriage of Mendleson's twenty fourth mother. Felix was peeling We knew it to be true, Even back then In the pickled omentum. The pompous rebuffs and the transparent gloves of yawning; It seemed not she like. See the museum’s scratched trumpet mask of medical sod, And the soft dissection of the ink ***** Implements of ticking and slip with the slow itch and clop. The anatomy doll, all green and glad; Its uncertain internal shrinking of Crippen; The skull’s Baron of the Intact Apparent. She cradles her parents in terrified liver Resembling dill with an unusual, excitable finish. Meanwhile out in Kraków: The idiotic London guillotine shop Shows eight obscene operation reveals trembling on a saucer. This, I'm unafraid to never say, is not almost uncertainly bowel pay.
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45
As Big Tom soaks up morning sun Mathilda flirts with everyone Miss Kitty likes her milk from May While Sandra's Minnie 'gets her way' Youg Archie: bound to cause a stir And Hector: rarely did he purr But Flashy - he's much like our Son Big boy entrances everyone So on this morn - as felines trod Salute the cats of Westbank Quad!
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 6:24 AM UTC
The Cats of WestBank Quad
Archie Arachnid Is my favorite pet. He's no trouble to keep, And moves with the speed of a jet. Climbing and spinning, Working all night, Archie's home is a work of art, A complex and silky delight. Archie's world is his web, Built with purposeful weave, Where visitors are welcome, Though they seldom leave. Gaze upon his handsome face, Give him some hugs, Archie will reward you, By eliminating your bugs. (When first published in a university newspaper, there was an accompanying photo--thus the line "gaze upon his handsome face."
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
ARCHIE ARACHNID
Bigot spigot on: Bloviator gladiator Spewing racist rhetoric: "Multiracial intersectional Non-Ableist unpacked transphobalist Micro-recessive-macro-regressive Cis-gendered 4th-wave femininizer **** nonsense!" —Every Archie Bunker
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 9:25 PM UTC
FALL FROM THE FAMILY
Archie and Gigs, Slow dancing, toes touching, Maybe what, The tenth Christmas song in a row, Peanut shells crunch under their soft shoes, The bar clock slips past midnight, Her arms in a loose noose around his neck, His hands on that perfect powder puff *** of hers, Sentimental embezzlers, God he loved the feel of her cheeks in his hands, Made him feel like he’d achieved something With this pathetic life of his, Didn’t matter how bruised he was, When she walked into the room, He smiled, Every **** time And well ********* If that weren’t the signature of love, Then ,as Archie often said, He would eat pigeon crumbs and throw his shoes in the East river And although nobody could quite figure what he meant by that, Gigs knew he’d sooner stop breathing, than miss one dance with her, He’d rather live in the trunk of a car full of spiders and bats, (Which he did one early weekend to prove his love to her, Archie said love had to be demonstrated or it was just phony ******** Anybody can say stuff Archie said but a real man always takes action) , And harsh truth, she was ****** hooked On the old ****** Her poet , her man, her rare and rough , It just felt too **** good to see that smile, That twinkle, the sly eye and his hands fit her *** perfectly So could there be any better proof That they were they. One more Archie asked And Gigs did her sigh with the horse flutter at the end And Archie, smiling like a buzz saw Lifted her off her feet and knew he was alive
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Love
Archie and Gigs, Slow dancing, toes touching, Maybe what, The tenth Christmas song in a row, Peanut shells crunch under their soft shoes, The bar clock slips past midnight, Her arms in a loose noose around his neck, His hands on that perfect powder puff *** of hers, Sentimental embezzlers, God he loved the feel of her cheeks in his hands, Made him feel like he’d achieved something With this pathetic life of his, Didn’t matter how bruised he was, When she walked into the room, He smiled, Every **** time And well ********* If that weren’t the signature of love, Then ,as Archie often said, He would eat pigeon crumbs and throw his shoes in the East river And although nobody could quite figure what he meant by that, Gigs knew he’d sooner stop breathing, than miss one dance with her, He’d rather live in the trunk of a car full of spiders and bats, (Which he did one early weekend to prove his love to her, Archie said love had to be demonstrated or it was just phony ******** Anybody can say stuff Archie said but a real man always takes action) , And harsh truth, she was ****** hooked On the old ****** Her poet , her man, her rare and rough , It just felt too **** good to see that smile, That twinkle, the sly eye and his hands fit her *** perfectly So could there be any better proof That they were they. One more Archie asked And Gigs did her sigh with the horse flutter at the end And Archie, smiling like a buzz saw Lifted her off her feet and knew he was alive
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38
When we awaken This reality show is defunct Cancelled The victims Americans not born with a silver spoon Those who earned everything by working hard Some who were not born here Immigrants just like our grandparents and Great grandparents Congress will be bi-partisan Archie Bunker will be remembered as a beloved character Not those who refuse to understand that yesterday is a memory and tomorrow matters Today is to be enjoyed and put into prospective Cherish and respect human beings despite our differences There will always be bad dreams but the nightmare should never have been elected in the first place C@rainbowchaser2019
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Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 11:31 PM UTC
Nightmare
Are you a card-carrying member of the Scapegoat Society? They live in another time and place. Archie Bunker lives How about a world where cynicism disappears Ron DeSantis disappears Where being nice is so much more than being important Hearts and minds work together as one for  the good of all The superiority issue is on the wrong side Sorry I am walking with Nature on the right side Isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? History will only repeat itself if we don't learn from it Scapegoats C@rainbowchaser2023
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May 3, 2023
May 3, 2023 at 9:35 PM UTC
Scapegoats
Cruelty disguised as satire. Very clever. And, no Cartman is not a cutesy Archie Bunker Jr. He's Ted Bundy only much smarter.
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Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 2:26 PM UTC
South Park
im somewhere between elvis and hee haw buggs and scooby-doo stooges and a-team price is right and johnny carson dallas and ****** she wrote fred sanford and archie bunker channel 6 and 8 and 12
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Nov 7, 2023
Nov 7, 2023 at 6:23 PM UTC
between
I wonder what it's like to be somebody's wish, the one thing they want whenever they open a gift, A prize that they see would be worth every risk, A five star entree that makes you pass the side dish. And day will bleed in to night, and I'll tie my shoes too tight. Think in the dark and ignore the light, scribble all the answers out of sight but it'll be alright. I wonder what it's like to be somebody's goal A thought that consumes all their ambitions whole. That they see me as priceless but still go bankrupt to pay the toll, and I complete them, left arm to their right and a heart to their soul. And day will bleed in to night, and I'll tie my shoes too tight. I'll feel the restless stirs kiss and bite, And I'll be too short for the ride, regardless of my height, but it'll be alright. I wonder what it's like to be somebody's dream, I'd be their ocean instead of a river or stream. I can be the needle to stitch their  seam, Be the summer in winter and every season inbetween. My soul was consumed so I can tell you for what it's worth, It was as if sadness has bloomed and hope failed to give birth. I'd never wish that onto anyone, with all the loneliness I saw, so many things had come undone except my wired jaw. Now I think little thoughts that are so petty, like why didn't Archie ever pick Betty?
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Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 12:21 AM UTC
Three Wishes