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"bestiality" poems
Sweet and seductive The twilight Can I come in? No need to worry Frustrated moments Tempting lies Please don't scream I'll be discrete Caresses recollected Old embraces ********** and bathos Fur instead of hair Movements in a mirror Time for breakfast The appearance of a peach Fried sentences Scrambled words Rhyming couplets Tea and coffee Contradictory conversations Flee from open mouths.
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
Virtuosity
In Praise of Feeling Bad About Yourself The buzzard never says it is to blame. The panther wouldn't know what scruples mean. When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame. If snakes had hands, they'd claim their hands were clean. A jackal doesn't understand remorse. Lions and lice don't waver in their course. Why should they, when they know they're right? Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton, in every other way they're light. On this third planet of the sun among the signs of ********** a clear conscience is Number One.
0
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
In Praise of Feeling Bad about Yourself (translated from Polish) - by Wislawa Szymborska (7/2/1923 - 2/1/2012)
There's a contentious subsection Of the homosexual community That go in a different direction Hoping to find social immunity The word masculine Is the mask they're in To live life saccharine Wearing a plastic grin From the sensation Of over-compensation Actuating placation To differentiate From the effeminate They say they're separate But really they're just desperate To be accepted By their own dejectors To not be rejected They become defectors To avoid ridicule They stack their deck with nothing but physicality Their mind minuscule The albatross on their neck is a lack of personality To please those that compare them to ********** Internalizing their homophobia An infernal mighty cornucopia Creating an over abundance of rules One must follow to be a proper male But we should jump out of the pool If being miserable is what that entails The more genuine version we see The happier we all should be Then we might all be free But if I were to show glee Someone might call me a ****** And I don't think I could hack it When the rest of society backs it With an approval that is tacit So I convince myself I'm avoiding identity politics Using total discretion To make no impression But my friends and family would know that's not what I'm doing So why not tell them? I haw and I hem Because the underlying ghostly shame Is the true nature of this social game When you have the fame of the flame You're told to get in a lane of the same Erase my ******* sin With the title masculine There are practical reasons to hide it But how much time will be bided? Will my life be derided Until the evil are delighted?
0
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
Masculine
There's a contentious subsection Of the homosexual community That go in a different direction Hoping to find social immunity The word masculine Is the mask they're in To live life saccharine Wearing a plastic grin From the sensation Of over-compensation Actuating placation To differentiate From the effeminate They say they're separate But really they're just desperate To be accepted By their own dejectors To not be rejected They become defectors To avoid ridicule They stack their deck with nothing but physicality Their mind minuscule The albatross on their neck is a lack of personality To please those that compare them to ********** Internalizing their homophobia An infernal mighty cornucopia Creating an over abundance of rules One must follow to be a proper male But we should jump out of the pool If being miserable is what that entails The more genuine version we see The happier we all should be Then we might all be free But if I were to show glee Someone might call me a ****** And I don't think I could hack it When the rest of society backs it With an approval that is tacit So I convince myself I'm avoiding identity politics Using total discretion To make no impression But my friends and family would know that's not what I'm doing So why not tell them? I haw and I hem Because the underlying ghostly shame Is the true nature of this social game When you have the fame of the flame You're told to get in a lane of the same Erase my ******* sin With the title masculine There are practical reasons to hide it But how much time will be bided? Will my life be derided Until the evil are delighted?
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54
to him, she was his escape, his ever present lighthouse. as shadows creeped up his vision, he would go to her seeking temporary paradise in an unforgiving world that would pass judgement on those that failed to meet their quota it calmed him. to be able to completely surrender himself to someone so pleasurably cruel each whip lash, each biting scar, each punishing slap, each delicious sting from candle wax, his neck wrapped in a collar his skin marred by abuse yet he couldn't help but ask for more more more he would beg and she would give it to him. he let himself drift away until nothing more than welcomed thoughts of her invaded his once clustered mind he would do anything for her. only for her. that was his duty as her loyal pet to her, no words needed                    to be said he was nothing more   than an animal        trained to              satisfy her                          in bed. that's how its always been with her partners being lustful creatures forever seeking an outlet for their suppressed desires but she couldn't help but think that this one this insignificant little pet would be the one to stay by her side then again, that's what she thought about everyone else before him but she'd gladly wait and see if this one was any different the least she could do would be to enjoy herself and savor the moment of being able to call this pathetically beautiful beast as her own.
0
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC
**********
Psychopath, questioned and played with, complex mind games with Paper fortune tellers and crystal ***** utilized by con artists. Chrome decorated room filled with trippy, grippy, grabby men With blue cats swimming around their head. Coherent words do not exist to them. Sucrose breaks you down, sweet creature, and thieves the antimatter in your empty scull. Your favorite song no longer passes through your hollow ears. Notes and the beats... A heartbeat. The thrum of a low piano key in a house supposed To be isolated and abandoned. You are not alone here, child. The demons summoned her because of the lettered board between a mattress And box spring. The springs are broken from too much activity, Don't jump on the soiled mattress. That's how you receive punishment. But one without two does not match the storybook your mother read to you. The nauseating tale of role,play and ********** Everyone knows the story, seen the Disney. You can run, but you can't hide from the memories of horrible visions Given to you by the gods. Hold on, child. You will grow to be a man one day Despite the nightmare of being a wolf child who clawed his way out of his mothers womb. Jolt and sweat, forgotten top bunk , and a concussion; The dreams are back. The recurring realities of a twin long lost, but somehow inside. Dream catchers don't make the callback list, can't act for the life of them, but They are beautiful against the scenery. A porcelain doll holds the demon that hacked my system and took controll of my history, And once again, she takes my place, fooling everyone into thinking I am here When, in reality, I am buried six feet under. Blood dribbles from the letters chilled into my stone, I curl and let them add more letters into My back to symbolize the life I led. The collection of poems I wrote about you are the ones they Cut into the skin on my legs, permanent reminders of what I have felt. "What have you felt?"
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
Interrogate
Psychopath, questioned and played with, complex mind games with Paper fortune tellers and crystal ***** utilized by con artists. Chrome decorated room filled with trippy, grippy, grabby men With blue cats swimming around their head. Coherent words do not exist to them. Sucrose breaks you down, sweet creature, and thieves the antimatter in your empty scull. Your favorite song no longer passes through your hollow ears. Notes and the beats... A heartbeat. The thrum of a low piano key in a house supposed To be isolated and abandoned. You are not alone here, child. The demons summoned her because of the lettered board between a mattress And box spring. The springs are broken from too much activity, Don't jump on the soiled mattress. That's how you receive punishment. But one without two does not match the storybook your mother read to you. The nauseating tale of role,play and ********** Everyone knows the story, seen the Disney. You can run, but you can't hide from the memories of horrible visions Given to you by the gods. Hold on, child. You will grow to be a man one day Despite the nightmare of being a wolf child who clawed his way out of his mothers womb. Jolt and sweat, forgotten top bunk , and a concussion; The dreams are back. The recurring realities of a twin long lost, but somehow inside. Dream catchers don't make the callback list, can't act for the life of them, but They are beautiful against the scenery. A porcelain doll holds the demon that hacked my system and took controll of my history, And once again, she takes my place, fooling everyone into thinking I am here When, in reality, I am buried six feet under. Blood dribbles from the letters chilled into my stone, I curl and let them add more letters into My back to symbolize the life I led. The collection of poems I wrote about you are the ones they Cut into the skin on my legs, permanent reminders of what I have felt. "What have you felt?"
Continue reading...
27
Red headed ****** Skin white and fluffy. Marshmallow. Spots on his skin, Like dots of tan. Leopard. Mind always on *** Fan of internet **** ****** Smokes himself to death, Always ******* on a cig. Vacuum. Always saying **** my **** But only to men? Closet *** Looking for something to **** I'm worried for the neighborhood squirrels. ********** Loves drinking some beer, But only likes it light. ***** Always gives a good laugh, Stupid *** smile. Best Friend. Drinking is okay, Jesus drank wine. Catholic.
0
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 9:45 PM UTC
Who Is He?
Hair stands upon jolted skin folds. You never could eat a salad. You look pregnant with a fat pig! Large enough to eclipse the sun! Large enough to cause nuclear winter for everyone! Grass ceases to grow with every step that you take! The earth weighs a percent more whenever you ingest! Your rolls could warm the Eskimos! An orchestra of clapping flesh fills the room with every movement you make! You don't seem to care about the people you run over when rolling in the street. You say it is their fault for getting in the way. They all look like Indiana Jones trying to outrun a boulder. Too many happy meals can make a lot of people unhappy. Man sized pancakes dot the side walks that we all used to tread. Skinny people no longer exist, they are all dead. You mistook them for French fries. You are just as imperfect as me, So who are you to point a chunky finger. You think you are so big behind that screen. Lecturing me about body standards when you look like you washed up on the beach this morning. Stop crushing your high horse and come down just a little bit. Time for you to get a serving of your own medicine. Gape those ears wide and give a listen: I don't live to look good for some fat *** greasy, disgusting pig on the internet, jerking off to ********** **** while his mother makes microwave pizzas upstairs! So jam that finger up you ***
0
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:51 PM UTC
Tenth Planet
Lexical littorals illiterate foal Talus and cirque shore and shoal Iconoclast anarchy vortex knoll ****** matrix vertex peak Semantic regalia flux and seek Torrid allusions own and keep Dichotomy paradox surge and swell Primordial integumence purge and fell Contiguity confluence dirge and knell Reliquiae requiem show and tell Accession assertion deliberative need Transcendent ascension expiate seed Subordinate ancillary exigency deed Subliminal subjunctive sensorium seethe Uxorious usury detinue blithe Contiguous currency decimate tithe Tractive proximity critical lithe Delusory phantasm futurity kithe Alacritous tactile acuity interstice Accidence ambience resonance quipy pith Scenario synopsis resilience gist Endergonic protensive progressiveness rift Prestissimo preterite retroactive gift Poignant puissance piquant myth Fable fantasticate legend list Preternatural gesticulate proclivity pith Propensity assimilate diabolical mist    ********** fornicate zooidal mist Parenthetical erudite erumpence fist Quiescent gossamer lecherous wrist Militant mercenary actuator aorist
0
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
****
The death of order is the birth of our ********** iamthe_avatar ©2014
0
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
Chaos (10W)
The want to be Detective C. Auguste Dupin got his theory all wrong as to why that orangutang killed Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter in the Rue Morgue. They were killed because they were walked in on while having *** with a human by the jealous beast. ********** lowers humanity to nothing more than an animal, a beast which is unable to distinguish right from wrong, natural from unnatural, love from lust. If you don't believe me then just ask King Kong. As always welcome to the show!
0
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
The Murders in the Rue Morgue
trudging from lombard pawned ring to pay back long debt Esta es mi vida. wonderful friend sent a letter: dont send me poems I dont love poetry Caminando por la calles. On the streets Lanterns blinding  eyes while I need darkness Yo tener enemigos en todos el mundo letter from court to pay penalty 1200 euro for spraying graffities in Friedrichshain Esta mi vida es afuera un campos de batalla. i am hungry I pick from some wheelchair near entrance of supermarket one banan towards me run and attacks me a huge drunkard beat out from my hands banan slaps in brow and I fall on snowed pavement feel no pains he stays over me and yell: Sie klaute banane, Nutte!! I low whisper: yourself schweine backe.. jump from spot and imaginary bite the **** of his imaginary gun El mundo es maravilloso I possess no more a laptop i spilled wine on it being taken aback of one scene of pure ********** of one lovely  guest in my flat how now to write manifesting defending verses? Politico de mierda que gobierna el pais. Internet shop whole night over beneath of buzzing of casino machines I sit and write the letter to imaginary dad to imaginary lovely mom to sweet sister or brother well,  I have nobody of them though would I be orphan I guess my existence were not so dismal Yo tengo el mi fierro por disparar. I writing email to american situationist his nickname is rasputin I saying him, that I am situationist and I am recently became persona non-grata and I better die than land in loony-bin need your aid. he answers with a link about  a war in Irak my solar plexus clenchs tight Puta yo no necesita usted! Esta mi maniera, Caminando por la calles, Listo para morir, Esta mi vida es terminada. ***** Friedrichshain- urban district in Berlin Sie klaute banane, Nutte!- she stole a banan, Whore!(german) schweine backe- pig's **** (german) (thank you Alessandro P. for lesson in spanish) Esta es mi vida. This is my life. Caminando por la calles. Walk on the streets Yo tener enemigos en todos el mundo.I have enemies allover the world Esta mi vida es afuera un campos de batalla.This is my life outside for the battlefield El mundo es maravilloso The world is beautiful Politico de mierda que gobierna el pais. Politic in this land is merde Yo tengo el mi fierro por disparar. I have my iron for shooting Puta yo no necesita usted. Bitch, I dont need you Esta mi maniera, Caminando por la calles, Listo para morir, Esta mi vida es terminada: this is my attitude walking through the streets to search for death my life is finished
0
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
Death on me
trudging from lombard pawned ring to pay back long debt Esta es mi vida. wonderful friend sent a letter: dont send me poems I dont love poetry Caminando por la calles. On the streets Lanterns blinding  eyes while I need darkness Yo tener enemigos en todos el mundo letter from court to pay penalty 1200 euro for spraying graffities in Friedrichshain Esta mi vida es afuera un campos de batalla. i am hungry I pick from some wheelchair near entrance of supermarket one banan towards me run and attacks me a huge drunkard beat out from my hands banan slaps in brow and I fall on snowed pavement feel no pains he stays over me and yell: Sie klaute banane, Nutte!! I low whisper: yourself schweine backe.. jump from spot and imaginary bite the **** of his imaginary gun El mundo es maravilloso I possess no more a laptop i spilled wine on it being taken aback of one scene of pure ********** of one lovely  guest in my flat how now to write manifesting defending verses? Politico de mierda que gobierna el pais. Internet shop whole night over beneath of buzzing of casino machines I sit and write the letter to imaginary dad to imaginary lovely mom to sweet sister or brother well,  I have nobody of them though would I be orphan I guess my existence were not so dismal Yo tengo el mi fierro por disparar. I writing email to american situationist his nickname is rasputin I saying him, that I am situationist and I am recently became persona non-grata and I better die than land in loony-bin need your aid. he answers with a link about  a war in Irak my solar plexus clenchs tight Puta yo no necesita usted! Esta mi maniera, Caminando por la calles, Listo para morir, Esta mi vida es terminada. ***** Friedrichshain- urban district in Berlin Sie klaute banane, Nutte!- she stole a banan, Whore!(german) schweine backe- pig's **** (german) (thank you Alessandro P. for lesson in spanish) Esta es mi vida. This is my life. Caminando por la calles. Walk on the streets Yo tener enemigos en todos el mundo.I have enemies allover the world Esta mi vida es afuera un campos de batalla.This is my life outside for the battlefield El mundo es maravilloso The world is beautiful Politico de mierda que gobierna el pais. Politic in this land is merde Yo tengo el mi fierro por disparar. I have my iron for shooting Puta yo no necesita usted. Bitch, I dont need you Esta mi maniera, Caminando por la calles, Listo para morir, Esta mi vida es terminada: this is my attitude walking through the streets to search for death my life is finished
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80
*** (  )))             /(     )\     /\                                                           ( bent outta shape ) •• REAL QUESTION -- would having *** with a SHEEPLE make you guilty of the sin of ********** ? /: / If so Since most of us don't stand up against   TYRANNICAL , CHILD KILLING AMERIKKKA We are SHEEPLE ! and if having *** with SHEEPLE Is *********** is it any wonder that our Dalliances Aren't blessed by god ?
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
the wages of sin are not even Minimum Wage
scent towers oh thy lowers perfumeth of a four legged hoof creature, from which thy parents descended to mate with a mare, thy head and structure fully capable of aiming the arrow, thy patronage either Zeus- for me the better example maybe, horse, whatever- speaks of ********** There I draw the line. I shall never google that. Give me tall, hot, and wet woman on woman.
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Ancient ****
I'm the ***** with the addictive personality And erratic mentality Constantly escaping reality Causing my ****** up morality I feel like an animal; you've committed **********
0
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
**********
Pressed hard against warm flesh in the barely illuminated darkness guesstimating the blessings of your fresh mess, I ingest the best and leave the rest unstressed. Soft caresses underneath the dress bring visions of ancestral ****** in jest. My accentuated ******* bereft of the simplest zesty scents leave jesters lamenting about the repressed nexus of flexing wreckers. Flickering trestles rustle as the mesh lays lifeless after undress and the pressures of the rescuers sheds ravenous blushers rushing and undulating such as plush calves do. Fissures, wet, impress impresarios investing in resting besties and ********** lechers; a pitcher, ditched by the rich, flashes in the marsh stressing the finches and leaching petroleum onto the beaches.   I reach for another peach and beseech the mashed potatoes makers, “just take a rest” –
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
crap salad: for this day of our lord
*oh yeah... and i just spotted a crow pecking a pigeon's ***** with a pecker the size of an elephant's trunk... give it a 100,000 years and you'll see a new species... like that saying: when pigs grow wings.* because the current theory of darwinism teaches us we interbred with lesser species and justifies ********** - the dualism is horrid, i prefer parallelism - parallelism and our own individual lives, rather than mediating two extremes... and indeed i prefer to think we were uniquely classified from the start... but i guess there's a fetish going around the joke about the welsh, sheep and cliffs... i want to ask you: when did **** insapiens emerge, or rather, when did he actually manage to integrate into our species with such subtleness that we actually proclaimed some men mad when they weren't, and assured ourselves that some mad men were actually sane? how to decipher this conundrum? he did so... bringing us *** and other presents... and indeed his identity will never be known; indeed, who is this unhygienic brat?
0
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
the darwinistic deception
i watch obsenity, lascivious acts, looking for normality, the spoted back, the traps are everiwhere, and *** is inspiring, i aspire to normality, an afective life healing mi heart, and accept the ********** of relations, and feel normal, all live'd theyr lives, mine was stolen, for some creep old ******* just the need, of feeling normal, accept the pain as a normal man, or trie to feel as one, is the gold of watching *** on the phone net, the search of normality, despice the eyes y adore and the highnes of loving someone, up there, and every once a year or so, there is this look in front of me, loving me in secret, understanding, silent and sweet, all the rest if stupidity, and wounds of a child arrased for the creeps, and their need of posses someone, they don't understand, or love, is just obsession. even so, the spots in my back, are clean, my sanity too, so sometimes watching **** is just looking for normality, and wash away the pain, of carry the creep in my ears. still inside my ears, talking to me, and never letting go. as whympy woman, or a souless creep, but never get to me, **** in the window, remainds me, how creepy and stupid they are. and me, i m feeling more normal every day, my heart is operative, and ready to live, dispise the creep. i am a free man, alive and clean, my soul is good, my heart is pumping, and i am, very normal and ***** indeed.
0
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 3:22 AM UTC
looking
*talk of bilingualism in the anglophone realm of talk of bisexuality, is almost the same, as talk of polymath within the context of incorporating ********** for the asylum number of sexes in the current trans- discussion; how about i **** a goat?* who's to study language, seriously?    poets?                                                  philosophers?              "english" teachers? polymaths?                     or simply bilinguals? i'm sitting on my windwosill imitating serpent,         huh?    yep, scratching off my tobacco soaked skin from my fingers... and then applying some cream to hide the dehydration...            let's keep it socially constructive, and call to mind bilingual in terms of latin: (a) with diacritical markers and (b) plain dolly english, i.e. with none...           still, thank god for the hand-cream, i'd be scratching my hands to get rid off the excess skin for hours on ends, esp. the rolling-tobacco stains on the index, middle and thumb fingers... could be worse, could be a serial killer from the film seven having to discard my finger-prints by applying them to an excess of                            rubbing material... get them all flat and lonely...     and i know the pity people convene on when reading a work of fiction... that odd poetic moment   located in a single sentence, or two...   as with poets, who think they wrote something "profound", when in fact they were looking for a novel,   for the sake of volume, or weight...    before you call me, i'll call myself a pretentious brat...    no shame in that...      you call me a **** i'll be like:      do you have a clint eastwood      cut-out from where eagles dare? for some reason i feel like acting   out 30 minutes' worth of goebbels; oh no, i'm not a **** sympathißer,    i'm an indiana jones sympathißer,   who was a sympathißer of nazis for a "lack" of a better narrative.
0
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 8:38 AM UTC
snake shedding skin
*talk of bilingualism in the anglophone realm of talk of bisexuality, is almost the same, as talk of polymath within the context of incorporating ********** for the asylum number of sexes in the current trans- discussion; how about i **** a goat?* who's to study language, seriously?    poets?                                                  philosophers?              "english" teachers? polymaths?                     or simply bilinguals? i'm sitting on my windwosill imitating serpent,         huh?    yep, scratching off my tobacco soaked skin from my fingers... and then applying some cream to hide the dehydration...            let's keep it socially constructive, and call to mind bilingual in terms of latin: (a) with diacritical markers and (b) plain dolly english, i.e. with none...           still, thank god for the hand-cream, i'd be scratching my hands to get rid off the excess skin for hours on ends, esp. the rolling-tobacco stains on the index, middle and thumb fingers... could be worse, could be a serial killer from the film seven having to discard my finger-prints by applying them to an excess of                            rubbing material... get them all flat and lonely...     and i know the pity people convene on when reading a work of fiction... that odd poetic moment   located in a single sentence, or two...   as with poets, who think they wrote something "profound", when in fact they were looking for a novel,   for the sake of volume, or weight...    before you call me, i'll call myself a pretentious brat...    no shame in that...      you call me a **** i'll be like:      do you have a clint eastwood      cut-out from where eagles dare? for some reason i feel like acting   out 30 minutes' worth of goebbels; oh no, i'm not a **** sympathißer,    i'm an indiana jones sympathißer,   who was a sympathißer of nazis for a "lack" of a better narrative.
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49
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) Do you know apex of danger In your life and even mine The most dangerous animal On earth in and without the zoo In the entire world of humanity and ********** That can lacerate you shreds of carcass And to which you are totally defenseless This animal is a friend
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
a friend
To indulge in the material essence of existence is merely an unprecedented irregulation of decency in societal morality, Amongst such atrocities... as encumbering other souls with the repercussions of one's indulgence in humanities frailty. Two spirits, two fragments each constructing two individuals intertwine in a symphony sung by emotion, composed by intuition to establish a harmonious equilibrium, have their bond lacerated deeply by the Monarch of Anarchy, the essence of desperation as well as destruction of such constructs, envy. Is such ********** as the likes of pure instinct for survival and thrift the culprit behind why we envy? Is it not a moral felony to practice such anti-altruistic politics, against our own kin, even brethren? Or is it the sole reason that by those who envy, ambition is also ensnared, engraved in their hearts? Indulgence in any principle is far from pure, as all can be connected into a single sin, cycling back to indulgence herself. So why, Why does envy, Entertain such diversity as opposed to others of its nature?
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Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 5:01 PM UTC
To be envious
Lexical littorals illiterate foal Talus and cirque shore and shoal Iconoclast anarchy vortex knoll ****** matrix vertex peak Semantic regalia flux and seek Torrid allusions own and keep Dichotomy paradox surge and swell Primordial integumence purge and fell Contiguity confluence dirge and knell Reliquiae requiem show and tell Accession assertion deliberative need Transcendent ascension expiate seed Subordinate ancillary exigency deed Subliminal subjunctive sensorium seethe Uxorious usury detinue blithe Contiguous currency decimate tithe Tractive proximity critical lithe Delusory phantasm futurity kithe Alacritous tactile acuity interstice Accidence ambience resonance quipy pith Scenario synopsis resilience gist Endergonic protensive progressiveness rift Prestissimo preterite retroactive gift Poignant puissance piquant myth Fable fantasticate legend list Preternatural gesticulate proclivity pith Propensity assimilate diabolical mist    ********** fornicate zooidal kist Parenthetical erudite erumpence fist Quiescent gossamer lecherous wrist Militant mercenary actuator aorist
0
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
****
In the Army sitting at the smoke point (a picnic table near the Water Buffalo) all of us enjoying the pure Fraternity of men and women now who are Soldiers a female Soldier ( not a girl to me) began to tell a classic tale of Love Lust ********** The police went to this guys house (for some reason I can't remember. It must have been a good one?) and they found him ******* his dog they arrested him of course But... When the DA went to charge him he found that ********** was not, Technically, a crime in that locality So, the Judge reluctantly released him and was forced, by equal application of the law to return to the man his confiscated Property Gasp they gave him back his dog? I chimed in with a gleefull prescience of the next 4 seconds maaan They Really ******* the Pooch on that one Now I believe that you can see with that perfect 20/20 backward vision the way we all laughed together men and women, each so Individually different, Brothers from the same Mother [ ]
0
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
You had to be there