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"beginner" poems
I am syllables, Proper numbers in wonder, Am I haiku now?
0
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 12:41 PM UTC
Haiku (beginner)
Of all the ****** that i like, The best would be of lace and white, But then again, there's so so much, There's even knickers with no crotch!?, Those little bras for beginner ***** Or leather gear, for naughty moods, And not forgetting Bridget Jones, Come on girls, we've all got those ones. Those yummy corsets **** us in, We'll shake our hips and bear a grin, To tantalise and tease men so, Our ***** with tassels on, so guys can, ahem, grow. Those fishnet stockings cost a bomb, But ladies, that's why we put them on, We feel so **** and so do they, So that's why we get them to pay. Silk and satin, black or red, Or going commando instead, What then girls, do we love these things for, Because they'll only be scattered on our bedroom floor?...
0
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
UNDERWEAR
He was brought into the world in poverty, in confusion, into a world of conflict and pain all of which was not his fault, all of which had nothing to do with him. He was conceived in love, but by the time he was born love had passed and all that was left was isolation and two separate parents trying hard not to acknowledge that their life together was over. I remember the many walks we took together, my son and I. He was so little and I carried him on my chest facing outward in a baby carrier and he learned how to “steer me” by pressing a foot against one of my thighs so that I would turn in the direction he pressed and he could see better what it was that had caught his eye. We walked all summer and he learned to love a certain stray cat, garbage trucks, fire engines, and motorcycles. We found and explored, it seemed, every construction site in the city and I taught him the miracle of the sunflowers that bloomed in gardens of new life so big it made us think that, perhaps, this beauty that we shared could be enough and, perhaps, could make up for the everything else that was not. When summer ended and the sunflowers went away, I assured my son that it was all right. They would return again in the spring. I had really thought they would. One day we walked on a devastating autumn day, the trees an explosion of colors, the afternoon deliciously crisp with a slight chill in the air. We were late and in a hurry to get home. Suddenly, he stopped me and turned me to see, what? I looked and, at first, I couldn’t see what it could possibly be. Suddenly, I saw. A breathtaking autumn leaf tumbled through parabolas of time now forever present, forever tumbling now for me to contemplate, there forever for me to long for, suddenly awakening our shared beginner’s mind, a moment that will resonate forever, long after the pain of many quiet afternoons without him fades relentlessly into the everlasting October light that leaves behind so many painful, unanswered questions.
0
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
The Miracle of the Sunflowers
He was brought into the world in poverty, in confusion, into a world of conflict and pain all of which was not his fault, all of which had nothing to do with him. He was conceived in love, but by the time he was born love had passed and all that was left was isolation and two separate parents trying hard not to acknowledge that their life together was over. I remember the many walks we took together, my son and I. He was so little and I carried him on my chest facing outward in a baby carrier and he learned how to “steer me” by pressing a foot against one of my thighs so that I would turn in the direction he pressed and he could see better what it was that had caught his eye. We walked all summer and he learned to love a certain stray cat, garbage trucks, fire engines, and motorcycles. We found and explored, it seemed, every construction site in the city and I taught him the miracle of the sunflowers that bloomed in gardens of new life so big it made us think that, perhaps, this beauty that we shared could be enough and, perhaps, could make up for the everything else that was not. When summer ended and the sunflowers went away, I assured my son that it was all right. They would return again in the spring. I had really thought they would. One day we walked on a devastating autumn day, the trees an explosion of colors, the afternoon deliciously crisp with a slight chill in the air. We were late and in a hurry to get home. Suddenly, he stopped me and turned me to see, what? I looked and, at first, I couldn’t see what it could possibly be. Suddenly, I saw. A breathtaking autumn leaf tumbled through parabolas of time now forever present, forever tumbling now for me to contemplate, there forever for me to long for, suddenly awakening our shared beginner’s mind, a moment that will resonate forever, long after the pain of many quiet afternoons without him fades relentlessly into the everlasting October light that leaves behind so many painful, unanswered questions.
Continue reading...
4
My Darkness is what makes me I embrace let it taste me Down to the abyss Death my favorite wish Naturally a killer Life is just a filler I hold the cards what should I deal you So dark feel me wicked See a knife I want to twist it Sadist or ********* either way I am gifted You will never see me You can even be me My Darkness seeps into the scenery Serial killer nah I'm much ill-er My Darkness is primal I am a sealer of fate Death Note set the date Allow me to demonstrate Villain mastermind What I am can't be defined Dark so lovely go ahead try mug me Eyes behold what's beautiful is ugly Call me a sinner I'm not a beginner We can play a game there is no winner So let My Darkness take you Devour remake you Heaven will never miss The devil in my kiss...♏
0
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
My Darkness..
Milky white and silky light and this is what I see within the eyes that look into the night and in the night where visions come and go where who would know has yet to learn and with no concern for etiquette I move to get a better look and what a sight then I behold and should I ever be so bold to reach out and to touch or to take her in but perhaps that is too much and to touch is but a sin if so then I will be the finest sinner as if I was the innocence of a new beginner and depending on her point of view she might sin along who would dare to question fate and relate a narrative of give and take? Not I. In the moment standing by she washes carefully I dare to peek the sneak in me just has to know. what it is that I want so that interrupts the constant flow of these the places that I go and one day when it all is clear we'll disappear into the dying sun but oh what fun we should have had when we took the run through good and bad but everything there is will settle down in time but now is the time this I see for you and me.
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
Sewing buttons
Engineering to the Bridge: "Time passed, but without us. A bit like Kepler's third, I suppose." Express your "law" another way. Throw rocks at the moon. Stone the satellite because of your own despicable sins. I see demise in your face. There's something strange about the through lines of your crew, the yellow journalism of their spacewalk. Posters of the wild frontier, staggered and torn, said nothing will go wrong. That sometimes death is merely the devil changing colors. "I think not, Captain. You laugh when you should cry. You tear to pieces the pictures of the overtaken. You run from the lie detectors. Otherwise, your narrative falls apart and all you're left with is your withered mind funneling down a ****** abyss..."
0
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 5:44 PM UTC
A Beginner's Guide to Destroying the Moon
Skating on thin ice my whole life like a figureskater. First price on sight but the stripes, resembles a broken picture. A golddigger... Go figure. Writing straight from my heart so every bar tender. I remember a night in december, from a walk in the park to a shot in the dark, I wasnt that cleaver. Pretended to be concious and smart but now the scars on my arms shows that Im a beginner. Sober for 3 years yet addicted to your liquor. Sparked my transmitter when ladys slipper fell off after our first dinner, But I never knew cinderella was a heavy hitter. Couldnt connect the dots so now im on the ground with seven stars above my head like I got hit with the big dipper. PTSD... But **** all the modesty, I just need honesty... My writtens a blasphemy (blast for me) but I can't be myself anymore like broken prophecy so God, accept my apology, beacuse there's a monster inside of me that produces sick thoughts like it knew biology. Some might say im insane but **** my brain, my heart is always by my side. Deranged thoughts but love tells me when its a lie. So stay in my lane and embrace the fact that we all are going to die or live to busy and miss the heartbeat that takes you to the otherside.
0
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
Confusion
i'm not looking for pinpointed lights in the sky or my veins like emission spectra of petals you leave around my aorta with daisy chain bracelets whilst holding my heart like a baby hedgehog or a shard of glass left from broke-into car windows our getaway driver, misery, scattered across the pavement of your gaze i met for five exact seconds i remember, clean as new linen, the geometry of your living room seventy-six centimetres from your glasses or the symmetry of the bridge of your nose or the sound of your soft exhalation. to three decimal places i was in love with you, then. the rain need not spell it out in morse for me to know that. the sun need not rise to devour sleep; through the ten factorial seconds of each six-week fraction of my life, i dream of you.
0
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
beginner's entropy
Don't trust Tinder, Never found a winner She's a Only Fans beginner But us men have compliments but we're a Thirsty sinner Just false hope and a haunted app full of ghost Thirsty Only Fans and stupid ******** Tinder never felt right so I left Super liked my own business What's a commitment? Tinder has always been a joke Caused me to be broke I've so paid for the gold and found some Diggers Full of preps and Only Fan strippers You swiped right and then left Account deleted for the 30th time My dumb *** pays every dime Tinder gold, one real joke, I'm hopping off Tinder boat, I've got my life jacket and off to land Tinder so fake like you don't understand
0
Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
Tinder
Fallible, shocked to find myself low I did not believe my descent could be so Don't I live with magical dispensation My life being subject to my blithe creation ! I thought I was living outside the mass rules Sadly I see I'm asleep with the fools. Slowly I rise, weeping thanks and distress Paying dear price for my stubbornness Making amends to body and spirit My arrogance gone ? I think not, but fear it ! Humility wakened, Immortality slashed Continuing reasons to feel so abashed. What are the steps I must now be ascending ? Practice beginner mind now never ending. Sacred illusions are found to be crumbling Retreat to the silence , relief from the rumbling Raising my gaze though I'm used to head bowed Trembling aside, now refuse to stay cowed.
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 7:27 AM UTC
Fallible Rising
She found him in the shadows of the night He took her hand and showed her the light She gave him her heart, he purified her soul- Asked for forgiveness and now she feels whole Felt her blood, rush through every vein As quickly and silently he stole her pain She’s reborn in her earthbound being She’s been blessed just from believing How lucky she is to feel his touch She started to die until he passed her a crutch Now she’s alive more than ever before Because she was helped to unlocking the door The secrets of life suddenly engulf her mind And now she learns what to do with her time Once a sinner, now a beginner, of her life
0
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
A New Beginning
A Bird, which will be of the age is not good enough,   | is or will be; In order to be able to be controlled; on behalf of the deaths of so many, unique in the city, In particular, the Church is the Church by virtue of the form of the the fire in the green stars; standardized, Mary was born on the bed of Allah's Goat,        Lord, this is my time, The blood; head,     American adulterers here are golden United Nations members Software In the history of the sport doctor, Another item that is contrary to God's, Its features contained in the nutrition and diet, literary experts thinking Igor the name of the topic that is the true spirit of Greek and Latin; The name of the old | one together with its own nature; Brazil in the news, and for the first time; Exercises early in the morning; There is a clean slate blind blind; Sunscreen is the rallying cry on Wall Street because heat and women do not produce Alchemy; Education | changes to the garden and changes his focus to focus on the Russian psychiatrist | | whose Heroes are adults; with Jews, all are members of holes At the entrance to the project the green tea tree in front of the French school in Virginia is another; ||full of the country I went with him to the next town, where Black Hill was available, free as smoke, Regards from the sand at the beach; After watching the food and Hills and Hills and Hills of ******* firings and labor unrest, the characters, you'll cry, face south, a wise driver || | | And it was the attacks of the servants, Marcus picked the best fights; Johnny Angel pushing her on her stomach in Marcus's Museum of America in England, boughs and leaves falling About Einstein's wife's head; The Entire | Beginner's football club piles on top of the screaming woman understandably horrifying for those not involved, lest what is defined in the term evil, is the same ****** of the trees; The happy city working on the beach; Growing up I began to stroll the paradisiacal part of the city. The girl's glory bore witness to ligroàkọsílẹ's second wife, when the bomb hit the covers of adultery; Ever trusting, the fornicators taking the oil to the women, Since in seeking you,          I will see to it:                                        that they speak |||||
0
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Hills and Hills and Hills
A Bird, which will be of the age is not good enough,   | is or will be; In order to be able to be controlled; on behalf of the deaths of so many, unique in the city, In particular, the Church is the Church by virtue of the form of the the fire in the green stars; standardized, Mary was born on the bed of Allah's Goat,        Lord, this is my time, The blood; head,     American adulterers here are golden United Nations members Software In the history of the sport doctor, Another item that is contrary to God's, Its features contained in the nutrition and diet, literary experts thinking Igor the name of the topic that is the true spirit of Greek and Latin; The name of the old | one together with its own nature; Brazil in the news, and for the first time; Exercises early in the morning; There is a clean slate blind blind; Sunscreen is the rallying cry on Wall Street because heat and women do not produce Alchemy; Education | changes to the garden and changes his focus to focus on the Russian psychiatrist | | whose Heroes are adults; with Jews, all are members of holes At the entrance to the project the green tea tree in front of the French school in Virginia is another; ||full of the country I went with him to the next town, where Black Hill was available, free as smoke, Regards from the sand at the beach; After watching the food and Hills and Hills and Hills of ******* firings and labor unrest, the characters, you'll cry, face south, a wise driver || | | And it was the attacks of the servants, Marcus picked the best fights; Johnny Angel pushing her on her stomach in Marcus's Museum of America in England, boughs and leaves falling About Einstein's wife's head; The Entire | Beginner's football club piles on top of the screaming woman understandably horrifying for those not involved, lest what is defined in the term evil, is the same ****** of the trees; The happy city working on the beach; Growing up I began to stroll the paradisiacal part of the city. The girl's glory bore witness to ligroàkọsílẹ's second wife, when the bomb hit the covers of adultery; Ever trusting, the fornicators taking the oil to the women, Since in seeking you,          I will see to it:                                        that they speak |||||
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59
There is a place in you that needs a name but you're an absolute beginner at naming things. Centred in this pathos, I've never known whether to create stillness or bitter passion. In this, there is a sacrifice, something to see through to the end. The openness I sometimes extract can break me down. Is it better to find a way to say it? Would it be better to hang for it or to forget how the fig is fertilised? In its sweetness, to forget the distaste of undermining friendship. I have stretched myself into the past. I have stretched my body to see the places it could end. Vein bubbles from where it started, wet bloodgasps; sorry smear of a poem they write your name next to. History repeats, all that's left; neutrality at the cost of a better passion, and the count of how many ribs you have and how many you've lost. I abuse my fingers and still expect them to carry me through. There's always a way to see trauma as something to crawl into.
0
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
Fig
Sweet talks, Late night walks, Childish pokes, and my heart got broke. He destroyed my zone, And now I'm all alone. I know it was just a game, but I played so lame. He's a pro gamer, and I, I'm just a beginner. We played feelings for fun, but I end up thinking how to run. I thought I can win this time, but my heart refuses to rhyme. I'm aware about the ending, and fear is a word to describe my feelings. The game lasted for three days, the ending didn't change. He won, I lost. I'm sure for him I never had any cost. He kissed my forehead down to my chicks, but I stopped him before he touch my lips. I can't give up my first kiss, for someone that I'm going to miss. This is not a story of a Princess, it's not appropriate to seal it up with an ending kiss. For he was never mine, because we just played for fun.
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
I Know He's Yours
trickling down cheeks the beads of sweat gather on chins jaw lines glisten chalk on asphalt contenders equidistant, soon to be unison two of them racing each reach for the first to get to the line a place for few of them bronze rusts, and silver runs but nothing like us off that starting gun all at a chance to watch the refs wave the flags and decide a winner go for gold outside the champion's circle are shoulders cold if you don't give it all you're no pro you're an amateur a beginner, 1st in show
0
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 2:00 AM UTC
Stop Looking For Answers In Everyone's Face
As I lay here my mind begins to wander, but the only thing on my mind is you. As my brain feels like a hurricane picking up everything in its path, you're the only thing that manages to escape this whirlpool. It's as if every day that passes, this cloud that I've been riding on since day one just gets bigger. And the more I float on, in love, the more I understand, the less I feel like a beginner. It's a change, it's like nothing I've felt before, it's never been this strong. Usually it takes forever, it takes ages, but this time, it hasn't taken long. I still ask, "What have you done to me? How did I fall so fast?" And then I realize, you and everyone of your characteristics are what make me want to make this last... An eternity.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
An Eternity
They say that a beginner has many options, but an expert has one or none, so I joined a new website where there are thousands of great photographers, so, inspired by them I decided to enroll in Buddha's self-help school of beginning photography, and actually I have never liked photography as an art form, until I began studying and now I am obsessed by the actions of my little Kodak that gives me such amazing bad photography.
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Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:32 AM UTC
A New Photographer
I'm nothing But a young beginner And a proud believer. I'm choking with All of this shocking Dumb illusions. Of a future Filled with surreal Features. Seeking the comfort Of your voice In the memory Of the empty bottle. I'm left with My short knowledge of life And my well known love For someone else's lover. An amateur in love Too expert in heartbreak.
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Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Amateur.
God was the homicide                that killed a whole world over his jealousy of man's will not to bow to his corrupt virtues.. He had planned every life and every sin                   was his masterful collusion with the devil. For both were one and all, two sides of a coin                 that always landed on its edge and no one was the winner. Definitely, a man or woman who thought they              were a creation of purity. But if they were a creation of the beginner, The end was always a plan to fail like an image,           it was never perfect but a delusion of a copy that like its original corrupted by ego. As it knew every breath, but still sent every baby to the hell of inescapable torment.                    As it was its plan all along. That no souls reached its peace, but the torture that it watched on its throne            above and sighed,,, That this was its creation, an image of self... And it knew it was the master of every moment,                        and they all leads to hell.
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Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 6:38 PM UTC
The Double Edge Of An Inflateded Ego
I work hard & play harder, expressing my magna carter Give and take in life, you should see expressions when we barter It’s the code of ethics,Artistrythe message Quote the reference cause I been known to show the people who the best is Leave you restless, have you wondering and asking questions Taking notes it’s a thin line, anorexic My manifesting counting blessings, mount the back of aggression And tame the beat with my sessions from my adolescence Now I’m grown dog, game of chess playing leap frog Where the contenders, too quick to surrender, claim me the winner In other words its competition versus me and beginner Just a side with my dinner, been hot from day one, straight through the winter Walk with my chin up, built from the chin-ups This is my get up, that I flex when I sit-up, Some used to call me narcissistic, I guess that’s realistic Cause appearance means everything, put that on your wish list Handle my business, even if it means getting me twisted I risk it, I’m on the rise you soft as bisquick that’s ironic isn’t it That’s the same biscuit. Who the next in line? I know you got a vest fine Ye, that ***** **** ill, right next to mine
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Start Trending
In a room full of emptiness I was sitting on my bed with my back resting against the wall. All my routine work was completed before time as usual and there I was sitting doing nothing, staring straight ahead on the wall which was colored blue. I had asked them to do so because I loved this color since it always exuded the stress in me, drained off the disturbing thoughts and opened gates for blissful ones. But they never came. What came to conquer me was lostness. This lostness maybe is productive if one is lost in a good thought, or, in a world of the past or the future, or, in his own created world, creative or perhaps destructive or perhaps peaceful. But I was always lost in a blank world. A world, where nothing existed. A world where no one walked on the streets. A world where no music was played and due to that I couldn't imagine myself dance because of which I couldn't make new dance steps. A world where I couldn't see faces smiling, where colors existed in their pure mixed form, that is White. But if I give a second thought, I am thinking all this, about what it feels to be blank.! So it shows I just used to think ******* when this beautiful world of blankness came to me where I can create whatever I want and whatever I like, where miracles can happen. Or maybe a world will take birth to be cradled in my thoughts showing me my desires, aims or maybe those facts that are necessary for me. All I needed was Concentration. But I didn't know how to do so. My brain was now an expert, a trained and professional one in being frivolous. And then I felt a pen fidgeting with my hand. Then my hand, with the help of the reflex sent by the brain who, this time, obeyed the conscience inside it, started translating the thoughts into words. Words, they always betrayed me before when I took their shelter. But that was my fault. I only took shelter widout any hint of giving them respect. But now as the two best friends, my hand and pen, were trending together to make history, these words had the tone of pride while residing themselves on paper, and their look was inspiring when read successively. A guilt always resides in me for the precious time I wasted being lost, but the content of overcoming that lag progressively always consoles the insides. Concentration is all you need for anything you want to do or have in your life. Beginner I am, but, I dont want to see the end. I would just like to enhance it as much as possible. MH
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
Concentration
In a room full of emptiness I was sitting on my bed with my back resting against the wall. All my routine work was completed before time as usual and there I was sitting doing nothing, staring straight ahead on the wall which was colored blue. I had asked them to do so because I loved this color since it always exuded the stress in me, drained off the disturbing thoughts and opened gates for blissful ones. But they never came. What came to conquer me was lostness. This lostness maybe is productive if one is lost in a good thought, or, in a world of the past or the future, or, in his own created world, creative or perhaps destructive or perhaps peaceful. But I was always lost in a blank world. A world, where nothing existed. A world where no one walked on the streets. A world where no music was played and due to that I couldn't imagine myself dance because of which I couldn't make new dance steps. A world where I couldn't see faces smiling, where colors existed in their pure mixed form, that is White. But if I give a second thought, I am thinking all this, about what it feels to be blank.! So it shows I just used to think ******* when this beautiful world of blankness came to me where I can create whatever I want and whatever I like, where miracles can happen. Or maybe a world will take birth to be cradled in my thoughts showing me my desires, aims or maybe those facts that are necessary for me. All I needed was Concentration. But I didn't know how to do so. My brain was now an expert, a trained and professional one in being frivolous. And then I felt a pen fidgeting with my hand. Then my hand, with the help of the reflex sent by the brain who, this time, obeyed the conscience inside it, started translating the thoughts into words. Words, they always betrayed me before when I took their shelter. But that was my fault. I only took shelter widout any hint of giving them respect. But now as the two best friends, my hand and pen, were trending together to make history, these words had the tone of pride while residing themselves on paper, and their look was inspiring when read successively. A guilt always resides in me for the precious time I wasted being lost, but the content of overcoming that lag progressively always consoles the insides. Concentration is all you need for anything you want to do or have in your life. Beginner I am, but, I dont want to see the end. I would just like to enhance it as much as possible. MH
Continue reading...
4
That Dark Road, That's What I'm On, This Black Rose, I'm Holding On, I'm On The Edge Of I Need Love, And **** It's Gone, People Come & Go, Just Go I'm Strong, I'm Always Alone, White Noise & Ghost, Sippin From The Tip Of The Last Cup, Ugh Another ****** Nose, I Think I'm Right, Tonight **** It Ya Right I'm Wrong, **** It I'm Always Alone, That's Why I'm Writing Songs, Immortal Scriptures, No Beginner, I Crave Life, So At Night, After The Perfect Dinner, A Beatuful Gypsy Doll, Embraces This Sinner, She Gripping My Shreaded Wings, Her Angel Thighs Feeding This Demon, Precious When An Angel Scream, I Caputre Visions, Angle Dreams, Tangle, Then Untangle Things, I Figured It Out , Figure It Now, Good Luck , Like **** Figure it How, Blood Bath, Black Candle, Oath & Cap, Raven Pen , Ghost My Friends, This Is My Repent, Dark Ways Once Heaven Sent, I'm A Fallen Angel, Where Has Heaven Been, Passionate Sad Women, Is My Medicine, If She Needs Help, You Better Let Her In, I Don't Give A **** How Cold, You Need A Coat, I'm Takking Of My Jacket , If Needed All My Clothes, I've Been Beating Beatings That Ponder Whoa's, I Know That I'm To Deep, In All I Know, The Blood That Leaks, Down This Clogged Sink, Has Sacred Stare, A Strong Mean, A Wicked Tone, That's Beyond Words, Beyond Me, Feeling , Complete, Then Completley , Incomplete, I Feel Alive, Now I Wanna Die, Inside I Scream , Only A Hug Can Save Me, Well Maybe, But Where Is She.... Valerie
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Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
Valerie I'm Bleeding Deep
Thinking back to Thomas creek and sneaking a peak at the freaky little tweaker in blown out sneakers a toothless mistress second guessing ****** thrift dressed house guest ******* up my speakers blown out woofer wolfing down dinner mad slurping curry a beginner at twister her sister, disaster, got caught ******* the Doberman.. unable to find sobriety got gang ***** at the sorority doing an impression of Brad Dougherty shoes to tall falling all wobbly knees knocking hostilely like a rasta in Montgomery racially outcast Big Boi with a skin tare lash with passion unfashionable bastions with rashes wear red sashes like Communist fascists I‘m a pacifist with a speeding fist ready to dis any resistor to this transistor radio I eat filet-minion with boxers on my mind be gone, like, no one’s home and this body roams all alone with a ***** I’m a stoner, a postponer, ***** donor, out on loan bought and paid for, caught with a lawnmower, impersonating a horn blower like I was Gillespie at the Filmore, or Apollo theatre as a greater Walmart style wearing a wife beater, not a reader, sort of a ******* not like Kim, more like a mosquit-er drinking blood like it’s from a hummingbird feeder.
0
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
crap rap 7 (MCDJpjs)
I do not know how to touch you I falter and you make an uncomfortable sound I caress for hours Still happy moans you do not emanate Running my hand up and down With practice maybe I can learn How to make you gasp a voice of pleasure For hours on end I will try, I do not mind It pleases me to no end, to attempt all night Strum, strum, there has to be a pattern you like Some sort of rhythm that makes you sing Ah the laments of beginner's guitar
0
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:16 AM UTC
A Beginner
I'm a rocker I'm a talker I'm a walk the walker I'm a gamer I'm a player I'm a rule breaker I'm a smile faker I'm a mover and I'm a shaker I'm a questioner I'm a challenger I'm a game changer I'm a grain of sand I'm a past summer of tan I'm a small helping hand I'm a shower grammy winner I'm a everyday sinner I'm a life beginner I'm a needer I'm a pleader I'm a leader I'm a living room pj dancer I'm a wiki search answer I'm a hallway happy prancer I am free I am she I am me
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
I am