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Maniacal Escape Jul 2020
Silly goose. Hide and beek.
Play the herion, strong and free.
Expensive easy life.
Such a good ride though.
Stephanie Mar 2014
While jaye threw to stephanie's house, shane was brainstorming a tropicana plan. jaye the Brendon Urie's toilet decided to go for a shipping. shane and his friend cat, a cumquat, met jaye at Texas. cat snatched jaye's a ball, his most prized possession. jaye BANGARANG, but shane just laughed and said, ""your mother"". shane and cat married away, leaving jaye stranded. jaye dropped to the ground and EEK CHUK BEEK BANG. He was very confuzzled.
Seema Aug 2017
The vultures roam low
Deserted in the middle of nowhere
Ready to begin their hunger show
To rip my body off and share

My heart is still at beat
I am not yet dead
For I am longing for our meet
But right now I am so scared

I pray for the cannibals to go away
The more I try to move myself
The more flocks dive my way
Inviting themselves

I peep at the sheering Sun
And hope for it to disappear
Water left, I have none
My vision so unclear

I get back up on my feet
Heading towards the shady creek
While vultures fight on decaying meat
Fighting with their sharp beek

Dear vultures,
If I become your fresh meal
Then please do me a favour
For I'll bare all the painful feel
Just spare my eyes for my saver

He who is my only love
Lost and gone out of my life, yes
God, shower mercy from above
And let me get over this mess...


©sim
Inspired by the hindi poetry:
"Kaga sab tan khaiyo chun chun khaiyo maas. Do naina mat khaiyo, mohe piya milan ki aas."
We'll begin with a box, the plural is boxes.
But the plural of ox is oxen, not oxes!
One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose is never called meese.

You may find a lone mouse, or a house full of mice-
But the plural of house is houses, not hice!
The plural of man is always men,
But the plural of pan is never pen-

If I speak of a foot and you show me two feet,
And I give you a book, would a pair be a beek?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't two booths be called beeth?

If the singular's this and the plural is these-
Should the plural of kiss be ever called keese?

We speak of a brother and also of brethren-
But though we say mother, we never say methren;
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his, and him-
Now imagine the feminine- She- Shis and-Shim>

~ Anonymous.
Robin Carretti Apr 2018
The New Future roar +
Gimme Gimme
Better salaries 2018
Hard years or light years
Galaxies
Hey 19,20?,21$,
22 my birth number
September Saphire blue
What's true the roar-ins
The movies the cold cuts
Getting hot
Boar head bites
The crybaby nights


Roaring Twenties* Flights"
It's time  for the modern
"I Dare" to be on the edge
Just Dodge

Men at war draft ins
Pennies for their thoughts
Dr. Who am I drugs new
laugh-ins
She's the boredom
Monday- millenium
"Gatsby Gorilla"
Tuesday Tarrantula  deadend
It been a long weekend_

Money is the killer
Ransom not a fandom
The Samson and Delilah
"Gilmore Ladies" Halleluah
Stocked up on mercedes
Flapper dancers flipped
a coin
They marched in computer
lion


Whats in your pocket
Now Hewlett Packard
Hackers and fast and furious
snackers

(The Thirties) centuries gowns
Kitchen the wife cooks
Turkey tough food 4 the soul
Davie Bowie ground control
Bowing down "Beek Jerky"
The golf player the hole
in goofers those penny loafers
Coffee and cars comedians
"Seinfeld" is money gold

Jiffy peanut butter
Sandwiches spread with love
I love you "Mother" Miss Kleinfeld
I am getting married
Those emmy awards looking worried
What's edible  Mr Hannibal
with attachmnents Mrs cannibals
The love can (B) incredible


Cornish Hens
Another day like Zen
Those Stepford wives perfect ten
Eyes of Fifty shades of poodle skirts
New Jersey housewives movie cut
Greek goddess of Ulysses lit

Greek yogurt creamy lips possess
New future what to address
Wordy so quirky time gets
spooky
Look alive get perky
The future for me is right now
Jersey strong "New Jersey"
All Excell moon solar system
The future I got the rhythm
Roaring Twenties theold in with the new the future what else is new?
I want you to wing it out
Flapping feathers in extreme
Nothing more than a blur
The forefront of a flash in the wind

Little more than a peck
as you brush your beek
I try to be a revelation
but my reaction is too weak

Clutch the truth in talons grip
Rip it to pieces on the cliffs
Meanwhile I stay hidden
mashing sweaty fists
try me if you please as you are out spreading the disease
plagued by thoughts of granduer with affectionate melancholy
sparkling array of blissful care through the air
my very soul permeates a reason for being amidst the changing of the seasons
with daffodils and common ivy hue
come with me as we frolic in a land of make believe
away from the bustling crowd can make you think out loud
there is a land with kings and queens with twisted heated evil schemes
nestled near the dungeon there lies a little baby dragon caught in his humble abode
a nearby court jester merry and wise enticing to the villagers in the square
juggling and spinning around like the present day clown
a fare maiden timid with red dress alone in her castle looking into the mirror
there is a beautiful butterfly that leaps through the cobblestone onto the greenn grass with moss
the lovely maiden begins to sip on a cup of tea with a bisquit crumbs are left behind
faces, spaces & traces
filter through the duration of time in a menagerie of sorts in the quaint kings court
there in the center is the jewel of the Nile running rampant &  wild
personifications of colors mark the cobblestones leading to a garden with beautiful flowers
it's Spring time and the court is filled with wine & spice galore
a black cat dazzles in the sunlight next to the baby dragon alone
the court jester begins his sonnet with not a dry eye in the parlor
"Love is the essence of my inner existence shun its resistance"...
outside at night the moon was still and there fell a quaint bellowing noise coming from the baby dragon as if a gasp.
nestled below there was small dwarfs scratching there heads trying to go to bed

perched on the maiden's window was a beautiful white dove with a reed in its beek
in solace the warm brevity permeates throughout the duration of this quaint land
let the reader understand the fullest extent of the kingdom in your thoughts
into letting it dazzle the very fabrication of your mind then in time
dreams would ensue of decorative doorways with covered wagons & parchment boards exposed
inside you will see the visualization of a walkway a given chance to get away
behind pillars then trophies of long ago in this vast domain
beautiful illustration of the unseen land let it bask in the vast expanse of your mind
a place to find love for nature and the beauty it helps to represent
the maiden has a significant purpose to bridge the gap between heaven & hell
with a great story in which to tell from the heart of her soul
her mind tingles her body aches with the pleasure she was afforded
when she is done she will feel the ****** of her restored heart with that of sullen brevity
she cares for the baby dragon with equated logic and fervor and will forever honor her
the green moss surrounds the land and even infects the nostrils of the palace guard
for this is a land we used to have been given to us out of vested reason of being
the intuned harmony to the hidden beasts menagerie cause all of life is but a mystery you see
Quatum Parker was a native American math **** . Born in the Blackboard Mountains of Oklahoma to Boris and Annika Schvartsberg who were pre-holocaust survivors who migrated to the U.S. prior to the infamous invasion of  fire ants in 1918 . At an early age Quantum
showed a proclivity at dealing with numbers which he picked up by watching Crows count in a mysterious beek and claw adaptation of the hood system of physically applied pressure points . Or as it is known today
as the fast break and dump system . Unfortunately Quantum had the misfortune one day of running into Little Bear legally coming down the mountain which so startled him he slipped and fell to his death . But we can all thank Quantum for leaving us a legacy of calculus of how many bounces it takes to **** a number .
Serth the red skies they give not a stick or a stone ,
that loves great harbour should build us a home .

Where magpies mock and steal ,
a ring through my window went ,
on the beek of a bird ,
all black and white ,
without lament .

That ring that I had on.my dresser would ,
Stick us together like concrete and glue.

It was a ring that without words that read ,
with all my heart I will worship you .
But  now the bird has stolen it instead .

So will the skies O blessed thing ,
before I die ever return my ring ?

It gavest us pleasures like ,
walking together in the rain ,
but as red skies are above ,
and silver lightning strikes ,
tis my shutters I close to hide me away at night .

And if that magpie should ever return , to bar and bolt ,
It shall not take ,
the love in my heart ,
for it is with that that I wed ,
not symbols of gold or cotton or thread !
But with ever lasting sweetness and joy ,
the bird can’t take ,
or mend or do ,
or sow together me and you .
that which is in my heart I employ ,
to do such a task to stitch us together ,
untill  our  words do not rhyme.

O  for silver  then shall I wait untill dawn ?
For what did I see on my newly mowed lawn ?
A heart made of silver a locket with a picture of you ,
with a red sky sunrise ,
that’s forever thinking of you .
Oh meadows of no beast and fowl ,
I wander where the wild winds blow to every discontent .
For above me and not below ,
the Bearded Vulture circles high above my heavy load .

Far above what I can see ,
the far off murmring of the trees ,
for distant lands has come to this ,
from far away  an evil kiss ,
Where the Bearded Vulture seeks its prey .


For my journey is thick with pine and birch ,
and rugged staff ,
and thicket and bristle and thorn .

For his is the heavens above Gods earth ,
that by his hand gave it birth ,
to feast on bone ,
not rotting flesh
and to seek out kingdoms vast in wealth .
High above what we call trees ,
high above the bullet and gun ,
where man wages endless war and the songs of peace are never sung .  
Far fowl then where cows  and sheep ,
graze in pastures not knowing this ,
that don’t in terror look to the skies ,
to seek out the talons and beek .,
and what ever flys .
**** ..” Take this flame from me I heed it not ,
That my blackbird should  die before my very eye .
That my burning torch should light a flame ,
that cries out to who so ever killed my love ,
to eternal darkness render thee “

Robin ...” But you sir on this darkest of night ,
Might need that light to bury your dead ,
that lies before thee as still as this very night .”

**** ... Let me first persue this creature,
that took away you’re life ,
be it man cat or bird ,
come forth before me now whilst you still can .
For no trees or barns ,
house or home canst ever hide you away from me .”

Robin ...” The bird is dead ,
                   the deed is done
canst it not wait untill the morning sun ?

****... This night if this creature does not come forth ,
it will be too late for it will lay dead before my beek”

Then from behind a tree came a fox ,

Fox. “ I saw what killed the bird it fell from this tree it was quite obserd !”

By then other birds from the wood had gathered around ,
as judge and jury .
The ravens clacked and clicked ,
the blackbirds chirped ,
others sang , but it wasn’t a happy sound .
Each one with piercing eye on the intruder who had just walked by .
With ****** mouth , which kind of gave him away ,
and soon lay dead upon the
ground ,
next to where the blackbird lay.

— The End —