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"bloke" poems
Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye, Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold And hope such Font will get you that Romance Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear. Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
0
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: GUINNESS IRELAND
I am a sailor lost at sea Setting sail to the land of the free I know not well where the winds will take me But days, months, & years I will conquer To be the sailor I am to be. I am a sailor lost at sea With my bow set straight to the dawn of light Though my hull is struck by raging thunders & churning waters I will not yield! I will not yield! Oh, I am a sailor lost at sea! Young a bloke I am Much I have to learn from the winds that have taken me I look up to the mast of my boat To see the winds ripping through my sails Oh how glorious it is to sail the waters below like the waters above Surely I will not yield! Oh, I am a sailor lost at sea! I have seen the stars move about the vast ocean skies With their light gently touching your eyes Oh! how I am glad to be a sailor lost at sea With these winds guiding me to be the Sailor I am to be! Oh, I am a glad sailor lost at sea! Glory to you who guides me For I can not see Yet have shown me the sailor I am to be!
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
"A Sailor Lost At Sea"
One Summer's night looking out the    back window at the back garden My! I couldn't get over it, how bright it     was You'd think the sun was still shining The Big Moon casting its ghostly pallor     over everything Like an Enchantress's dark spell The strange cold beauty of it, it held     me enthralled I could only stand there watching,     silently in awe; Suddenly, a peculiar thought came     into my head I smiled at its outrageous suggestion Then grabbing my sunglasses and my     old deck chair I went out into the garden and sat right down there underneath the stars Bathing in the silvery light of the     moon's cold rays, Well I tell you, all the night creatures going about their night business They all did a double take "Hey, that's the funny human bloke, what's he     doin' out this late", Even the cat came over and rubbed her eyes," Wait a minute ", she said, " this isn't right, you're not supposed to     come out at night ": Sensing their curiosity and their     general discomfiture I lowered my shades and looking at them all gathered there in the shiny     bright dark, I said " Don't worry gang, don't be alarmed,     no! don't be aghast It's only.... well, it's only Great Art.                          II I don't know But it seems Wherever I go Great Art is never far behind In tow.
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:25 AM UTC
Great Art
SNOW FALLS she wakes to a morning with no reason for living cries in the mirror to be forgiven puts on her make-up takes off her clothes sits there & bleeds until she can’t feel the blood in her veins runs cold the razor blade bleeds bleeds the cat cries to be fed the batteries in her Walkman go dead the Rachmaninov stops a letter she will never read drops on the Welcome mat a mobile rings & rings & ...stops a member of a minor political party looking for her vote rings the doorbell twice slips on the ice & ruins his coat curses a man laughs at another man’s joke it’s a big laugh...he’s a big bloke laughter invades the square there’s a chill in the air a friend calls for her (to go on a blind date)   ...she doesn’t hear snow... ...snow... ...snow falls
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Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
SNOW FALLS
Handbag~ 1994 exam timetable £5 from my Mum shiny key for the front door fresh-mint chewing gum Handbag~ 1998 keys for work keys for home £20 and a bit of change photo of my best mate and a bloke that's twice my age lipstick~ lacy knickers condoms~ ID card ticket for a bus to town UV sparkly stars Handbag~ 1999 keys for work keys for home spare key for his flat condoms~ contraceptive pills No.7 powder-ivory/matt VISA/Delta debit card paper gel ink pens number of a bloke who says our love will never end Handbag~ 2000 keys for work keys for home key for the gas meter Teletubbies picture book list of baby-sitters new mobile phone herbal teething gel lipstick~ Anadin vanilla impulse body spray children's Nurofen photo of my baby boy really tiny socks under-eye concealer secret stash of chocs Handbag~ 2002 keys for work keys for home pull-back-and-go car baby wipes mobile phone estate agents' cards picture of my little boy list of things to do Boots own brand pregnancy test both windows coloured blue Handbag~ 2005 keys for home card from work tissue full of tears photo of my boy in school that shows his gappy teeth photo of my baby girl and one of both of them a ring that used to be my Mum's Pro-Plus~ Diazepam Handbag~ 2009 keys for work keys for home one SLIM~FAST bar one Cadbury's wrapper Haribo~ Calpol~ tissues assorted Disney plasters treasured stones~ special shells sand and bits of twig money to buy ice creams photos of my kids
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Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 4:52 PM UTC
Handbag 1994~2009
Me Nose knows da way she goes. Da smells herb throws, me Nose just knows. Da smell kush gives. Da way me lives. Me Nose just knows. 'avin a **** with a **** lovin' bloke. enjoyin' da incense. But me losing da essence. Me Nose knows, but me eyes don't. Me **** lovin' bloke, who me was 'bout to **** was not a gurl, just a lyin' shmuck. He was not a chick 'cause he had a **** Me eyes now know what me Nose knows.
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
Herbal Scents
I'm not the talking type you know (us men will understand; the women have seen this in their men) and being the lonely bloke I am I bought a parrot for company and just two hours observing me in my house the parrot said to me: "We ought to talk more..."
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
I bought a parrot
Listen to the minority’s burden There are more than you may see Your idea of equality Is quite different from what I believe The facts are alive and well And terribly ignored By many common folk who can not tell What all we’ve been fighting for Listen to our burdens They’ve been here all along Since the pale folks came for us And decided they knew where we belong Listen to my burden I am more than my ethnicity But no one pays attention to my character Thank you, oh dear society I’m not here to do your math homework Or be the punch line of your joke Or be the one who is categorized As a yellow, squinty-eyed bloke We have countless burdens So listen to what we say Please stop your patterns of racist jokes and ignorance And realize that change must begin today
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
The Minority's Burden
************ the ego tis seen as a trifle banal the odd big cranial bloke belongs to this cabal tirelessly they stroke the head to a maximal size as the inflated phallus doth give them such a rise ************ shall always be their pastime of infatuation as they are so in love with the ego's glorification
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
************ The Ego
#051416 Nauuhaw ako Bitak-bitak ang lalamunan Sabay lunok, iba ang indak ng tag-init. Humiling ako Sa bulsang gula-gulanit Sa retasong sando Sabay hanap sa munting kaluping Singit sa maingay na sapatos. Siyang nakikipagtagisan ng laway Sa putik na binubuhusan ng langit. Muli, nauuhaw ako Pero sana'y mapawi ito Ng mahika't eksperimento Ng itim na likidong kumukulo sa lamig. Taglamig, taglamig na takipsilim; Yakap ko ang kapoteng maitim ang tagiliran. May karatula sa kanto, Kaya't napasugod ako sa pagkasabik. Tangan ko pagbalik ang litro. Magaspang ang mga kamay Kaya't makapit ang bote sa mga daliri. May karatula sa ikalawang kanto, Tatlong kulay, pero hindi matukoy Gabi'y makasarili, walang nais na kahati. Ulap ay hinawi, kabiyak ang buwan at bituin. Isang bloke ng yelo, Yelong pinira-piraso Binasag sa sementong kwadrado Pahaba't may mga bumbilyang mamatay din. Isang ihip lang ng hangin, lagas ang liwanag. Isang basong walang laman, Walang bahid ng pagsabon Buhat sa mga nakasalansang na pagkatao, Iba't iba ang pwesto, May kanya-kanyang tambayan. Tuluyan silang naging tambay na lamang. Nauuhaw ako pero hindi ito napawi, Mga kalapating pumapagaspas sa himpapawid, Senyas pala ng paglisan. Musikang hele patungong langit, Pagtulog ko'y pahimbing nang pahimbing. Nauuhaw ako, nauuhaw na naman ako Pero pauwi na ako sa Tahanan, Doon na makaiinom, magpapahinga na ako. Paalam.
0
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 10:31 PM UTC
Coke Story
Amanda was a Panda She was a lovely lass, Although she had two big black eyes, She retained an air of class. She ambled into the Bamboo Bar To have lunch with Panda Pete one day, And he looked into her eyes And to her he did say. "Oh Amanda with your big black eyes Will you please be forever mine, And promise that you will never Let your panda arms entwine, Any other bloke panda In this bamboo land, Please oh please Amanda, You've got to understand For me there is no other You're the only girl for me, You remind me of my mother, And so we're meant to be, Together as a couple we'll be With our four eyes of black, Oh darling please look at me Why have you turned your back?" She answered very clearly She said "because Pete I'd rather, Find another Panda really, To be my childrens father." Now Panda Pete was really sad He felt total and utter rejection, So he sloped off before he got mad, To a future of dejection. He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,. Back into the forest outside And jumped into his panda car And took off for a long lonesome ride. Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Amanda the Panda.
i love you, fresh from the shower. glistening and wet, smelling of aftershave. "coolwater" by davidoff. often aslo sandlewood, goat soap, from the local farmers markets. i love you, dressed up smart. in a brook's brother's way dress pants and shirt, blue linen vest. johnny walker silk bow tie, untied is best. then your twist, (not as original as you think) converse skaties, no socks and bone bleached cuffs, turned up. i love you, in your work gear. just come home, you smell of sweat. clean and healthy, always wood shavings caught up, in your unruly shaggy hair. cargo shorts and t-shirts, that have seen, many days of worksite wear. size elevens in your hands, those big feet and freaky toes bare, ******* in the air. i love you, in board shorts and rashie. rushing into the surf, hand in hand. with the energetic bundle of love, to which we gave birth. it is not as though, clothes made this man, but boyohboy, you, frame them well. it s the heart, the chuckle the hands, the philosphy, the clever, erudite, caveman, the downright, man-dumb bloke. that endears, your heart to mine. it is, that you really listen and take the time, to make me feel and be, phenomenal, wise, sensual and beautiful beside. i love you, best, in my bed. moving slow and sure, undressed, silk and velvet. as we express, the reality of our love and whisper words, well known, and cry to heaven above. i love you, then, here, now and eons on. even after the worlds memory of us, is nothing, dust upon the breeze our love, will carry, forth stardust on heaven's winds and cries of our love and ecstasy will birth worlds anew
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
wood shavings, freaky toes & stardust
i love you, fresh from the shower. glistening and wet, smelling of aftershave. "coolwater" by davidoff. often aslo sandlewood, goat soap, from the local farmers markets. i love you, dressed up smart. in a brook's brother's way dress pants and shirt, blue linen vest. johnny walker silk bow tie, untied is best. then your twist, (not as original as you think) converse skaties, no socks and bone bleached cuffs, turned up. i love you, in your work gear. just come home, you smell of sweat. clean and healthy, always wood shavings caught up, in your unruly shaggy hair. cargo shorts and t-shirts, that have seen, many days of worksite wear. size elevens in your hands, those big feet and freaky toes bare, ******* in the air. i love you, in board shorts and rashie. rushing into the surf, hand in hand. with the energetic bundle of love, to which we gave birth. it is not as though, clothes made this man, but boyohboy, you, frame them well. it s the heart, the chuckle the hands, the philosphy, the clever, erudite, caveman, the downright, man-dumb bloke. that endears, your heart to mine. it is, that you really listen and take the time, to make me feel and be, phenomenal, wise, sensual and beautiful beside. i love you, best, in my bed. moving slow and sure, undressed, silk and velvet. as we express, the reality of our love and whisper words, well known, and cry to heaven above. i love you, then, here, now and eons on. even after the worlds memory of us, is nothing, dust upon the breeze our love, will carry, forth stardust on heaven's winds and cries of our love and ecstasy will birth worlds anew
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77
Smokey the bear had fought lots of fires, he was a good guy, didn't have any priors. But after so many years committed to the job, Smokey started to feel as if he would sob every time he got a message calling him back to work, to put out a fire started by some drunken **** No matter how many fires Smokey put out, it never seemed to gain him any social clout. His so called “friends” never invited him to hang though all Smokey wanted was to be one of the gang. They would hold fancy dances and dress in their best, but poor lonely Smokey was never a guest. He rented a tux and showed it to one guy, who immediately retorted with quite the rude reply! “Are you kidding,” he said, “Smokey tuxes aren’t for bears, besides, you’d have to return it all covered in hair!” “No,” the guy said, “It’s best you stay home,” “Besides, I know you don’t mind hanging out alone!” But Smokey did mind, he minded a lot, and later that night, he had a brilliant thought. “I’ll go to that party and show them, they’ll see, you can’t just leave out a fun bear like me.” However, Smokey's idea did not go as planned, his first mistake being that he arrived in a van. A van that looked like something a molester would use while trolling the streets for a child to choose. Smokey’s second mistake was his puke yellow tux, the one he had bought for only two bucks. When he finally entered people gasped in surprise, unable to believe the strange thing before their eyes. There Smokey stood, all covered in yellow, holding a cane and top hat he thought made him quite the “fancy fellow.” After a moment of silence there was a loud roar, as laughing people asked, “What look were you going for?” Embarrassed, Smokey tried to claim the whole thing was a joke, Stuttering, “C’mon you guys know I’m quite the funny bloke!” Eyes brimming with tears Smokey decided to leave, but this embarrassed bear had something up his sleeve. “I hate them,” he thought, standing outside, and decided to make sure none of them would have a ride. So he slashed all their tires while giggling with glee, Thinking, "Now they’ll feel bad for laughing at me!” But this was not enough, Smokey wanted to do more, so he grabbed a gas can and started to pour. He saturated the grass, the trees and the flowers, and then sparked a fire that would burn on for hours. This was one fire Smokey would not put out, he simply stood, and then laughed as he heard the first shout.
0
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
fatal fires
Smokey the bear had fought lots of fires, he was a good guy, didn't have any priors. But after so many years committed to the job, Smokey started to feel as if he would sob every time he got a message calling him back to work, to put out a fire started by some drunken **** No matter how many fires Smokey put out, it never seemed to gain him any social clout. His so called “friends” never invited him to hang though all Smokey wanted was to be one of the gang. They would hold fancy dances and dress in their best, but poor lonely Smokey was never a guest. He rented a tux and showed it to one guy, who immediately retorted with quite the rude reply! “Are you kidding,” he said, “Smokey tuxes aren’t for bears, besides, you’d have to return it all covered in hair!” “No,” the guy said, “It’s best you stay home,” “Besides, I know you don’t mind hanging out alone!” But Smokey did mind, he minded a lot, and later that night, he had a brilliant thought. “I’ll go to that party and show them, they’ll see, you can’t just leave out a fun bear like me.” However, Smokey's idea did not go as planned, his first mistake being that he arrived in a van. A van that looked like something a molester would use while trolling the streets for a child to choose. Smokey’s second mistake was his puke yellow tux, the one he had bought for only two bucks. When he finally entered people gasped in surprise, unable to believe the strange thing before their eyes. There Smokey stood, all covered in yellow, holding a cane and top hat he thought made him quite the “fancy fellow.” After a moment of silence there was a loud roar, as laughing people asked, “What look were you going for?” Embarrassed, Smokey tried to claim the whole thing was a joke, Stuttering, “C’mon you guys know I’m quite the funny bloke!” Eyes brimming with tears Smokey decided to leave, but this embarrassed bear had something up his sleeve. “I hate them,” he thought, standing outside, and decided to make sure none of them would have a ride. So he slashed all their tires while giggling with glee, Thinking, "Now they’ll feel bad for laughing at me!” But this was not enough, Smokey wanted to do more, so he grabbed a gas can and started to pour. He saturated the grass, the trees and the flowers, and then sparked a fire that would burn on for hours. This was one fire Smokey would not put out, he simply stood, and then laughed as he heard the first shout.
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48
He struts through the street With an arrogant stride A staffy at his feet Fills him with pride Baseball cap on his head Peak points in the air Yea blood I'm hard And I don't seem to care Trackies and hoodies Are the code of his dress Big golden chains Hang low on his chest Sock's pulled up high Above his designer boots I'm a council house chav So proud of me roots I'm hard and I know it And I'll rob ya of bread Don't mess with me Or you'll end up dead His attitude stinks Filth falls from his gob With a chip on his shoulder He don't want a job But under the bravado He's as quiet as a mouse Living his life From his council house His mum is on drugs His dad is long gone No wonder this bloke Turned out to be wrong So show him some kindness Just a friendly word Might just be the the thing That stops him doing bird I somehow much doubt it But its worth a try Cause deep underneath He's a friendly guy
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Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 3:16 AM UTC
The friendly Chav
Masters of the Universe, three and some, nearly four months tween me and you that words interchanged, prayers, asking for the answering job which was handily God-to-Man transferred, transfused tween you and me a/k/a Job...appropriately you may recall I was the bloke who immodestly spoke, asking any and all circulating deities, to tender their resignations post-haste, immediately for failure to do the appointed rounds well enough to this human's satisfaction now don't go high hopes expecting a large confession about how hard, ya see it really is tending the flock be... nope I ain't here to beg of you, take this onerous from my shoulders! no, no, capitulation, my track record maybe not much better than what went before, but you know what I'm about to say, cause you are perfect well I still don't like what satisfies your perfection definition for my fellow humans, so I'm keeping this job/Job, for another few months, cause I am. Human enough to know that humans keep on trying and you just gave up and said let them do what they want between human to human, as long as they pay us obeisance I put sins of man to fellow man as my número uno priority and if the number of prayers diverted back to you, in your inbox receiving, are just the dues paying kind, keep'em, I got more important things to do...
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Masters of the Universe, Three and Some
I don't need any more than this, as we cuddle close and softly kiss. Your body warm your scented hair, what more than this my love Is There. The laughter playful in your eyes, that speaks in truths and never lies. The way your nose tickles my cheek, making me laugh leaving me weak. The way you nibble at my ear, and whisper words to draw me near. Your nails that leave their mark on me, leaving me sore but happily. You snuggle close and ask of me, to hold you tight or set you free. No force on earth could make me leave, for I need only you to please believe. A kiss a cuddle a laugh a joke, is sometimes enough for any bloke.
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Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 8:00 AM UTC
I need a cuddle
writing with a broken pencil how pointless when the only connection I had on Valentine's was wi-fi and don't the vultures in this airport know only one carrion allowed? and no fresh fruit - so no pairs. it's terrible, I know but puns are my coping device and you [every bloke in my youth] should never have tried to juggle when you had no ***** but you left so I'm all right now and I amused myself with silly strings of homophony until I found someone whose puns are even worse than me because you can't take a joke that doesn't belong to you it's all mind.
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
The Worst Break-Up P[un]oem Ever
Clever minds that stretch The many elements which live as our backdrop Too often everyday is spoiled By unnecessary people, gathering ammunition For climbing invisible platforms of command These are cast aside by simple smiles and welcomes And it was. Even if the task was invisible to me at first My soul felt at home amongst these new work mates My responsible position was underwritten Given gravitas and a freedom to which I wasn't quite used The time was charged with familiar but different It was fraught but strangely healthier in paradox The honest fight was taken with gestures of family proportion Success had waned but the unity of 'knowing' was the strength That continued to support that Company In spite of the turmoil my personal facets were given air To run and to adjust, to temper and to manage Poor communication was completely disastrous The confusion of three currencies And the balance of understanding left us guessing Never mind agreement or translation Through all this, looking back my heart is lifted Not by the freedom or the ability to achieve ...mostly, It is the strength from our leader, That calm, silver haired man When many were distraught you kept us going And fed us with hope and built our confidence, Not always with the obvious But gave us the ability to win through by believing , Believing in us and building back our motivation and teasing out The raw infrastructure of our true capabilities Never before has anyone, apart from my Mother Believed in me as you did. To tackle the toughest of tasks Anything that the industry, the public or our customers Could throw at us, we dealt with it. Sadly you could do nothing at the final demise but take the role Of a father giving news of an aged relative sadly moved by A force greater than yourself I know had you the influence, the power and the funding............ You were always more than a boss Chris Your transparent enthusiasm raised our spirits And in times of worry I hope we lifted yours too. I think of you often, thank you for being a friend After we were no longer professionally connected. I see your generous smile and your warm handshake I can hear your laugh now It's always a treat to catch up over a beer. I now find you in my phone, in my photographs But mostly in my heart for being a great bloke You taught me so much. Speak soon, with love, Max
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Living with Gretag
Clever minds that stretch The many elements which live as our backdrop Too often everyday is spoiled By unnecessary people, gathering ammunition For climbing invisible platforms of command These are cast aside by simple smiles and welcomes And it was. Even if the task was invisible to me at first My soul felt at home amongst these new work mates My responsible position was underwritten Given gravitas and a freedom to which I wasn't quite used The time was charged with familiar but different It was fraught but strangely healthier in paradox The honest fight was taken with gestures of family proportion Success had waned but the unity of 'knowing' was the strength That continued to support that Company In spite of the turmoil my personal facets were given air To run and to adjust, to temper and to manage Poor communication was completely disastrous The confusion of three currencies And the balance of understanding left us guessing Never mind agreement or translation Through all this, looking back my heart is lifted Not by the freedom or the ability to achieve ...mostly, It is the strength from our leader, That calm, silver haired man When many were distraught you kept us going And fed us with hope and built our confidence, Not always with the obvious But gave us the ability to win through by believing , Believing in us and building back our motivation and teasing out The raw infrastructure of our true capabilities Never before has anyone, apart from my Mother Believed in me as you did. To tackle the toughest of tasks Anything that the industry, the public or our customers Could throw at us, we dealt with it. Sadly you could do nothing at the final demise but take the role Of a father giving news of an aged relative sadly moved by A force greater than yourself I know had you the influence, the power and the funding............ You were always more than a boss Chris Your transparent enthusiasm raised our spirits And in times of worry I hope we lifted yours too. I think of you often, thank you for being a friend After we were no longer professionally connected. I see your generous smile and your warm handshake I can hear your laugh now It's always a treat to catch up over a beer. I now find you in my phone, in my photographs But mostly in my heart for being a great bloke You taught me so much. Speak soon, with love, Max
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52
WOMEN I cast you out for pandering your *** WOMEN You are shameful On you I gift this hex: *If you need to be the object of manly gratification If you have no interest in the freedom or the liberation Then your life will now be governed by the exploitation A vessel pure and simple for man’s *********** WOMEN You are worthless **** upon my shoe Read between the lines my friend Figure out the clue For it is in here somewhere Deep within this write Nothing's ever as it seems Nothing's black and white WOMEN Does a bloke walk round? With his ***** hanging out? Does he emphasize his testicles? Does he bandy it about? I think you know the answer Just stop and use that brain Then maybe in the future Equality will rightly be reclaimed But all the time you flaunt your **** ****** you ***** in their face You, my friend To the sisterhood **Are a ******* skanky **** disgrace** Wake up and smell the Costa For conditioning is wrong You need to understand You cause The Cause to be prolonged This is my stand I hold my own I’m never fazed By stick nor stone For I know deep within my heart The value of my worth I will never sell my principles For merriment or mirth **So … please …. just take a moment To digest The words within this write Unharness faux benevolent blinkers Because this is our absolute pre-emptive right**
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Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 4:31 AM UTC
WOMEN
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian, got this queasy feeling on the line reeling, coming undone at the same time wound up and spun, I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing, want to throw myself up out of myself, can escape every position except the one I’m in, can’t escape yourself if knowledge is wealth, then I’m loaded & still spending my winnings, got Karma Credit but I’m morally cash poor, because I just fckt my girlfriend as if she was a ***** and I feel terrible or rather horrible about it, because i think I’m infected by what neglect did without a cure, no one is pure, at least I’m not that’s for sure, I'm tainted with devils in my head painted with what I spilled I’m red, sick with the sort of illness that can't easily be cured, in fact got a bad case of the blues, but instead of strumming a guitar I’m taking things too far, cut her so bad with my fingernails, that I fear it might leave a few scars, tied her up so tight, that her wrists turned purple, see she’s attracted to bad boys, and I warned her that that’s the type of attraction that can hurt you, little girl shouldn’t be out past her curfew, nothing good ever happens past midnight, but we’re both running from something, both stand outs in the in crowd still something doesn’t sit right, I’m uncomfortable, because I think maybe all humans are disgusting, maybe we just cause each other pain and trash the earth’s surface, maybe we deserve to feel guilty & that’s why we are all fcking distrusting, maybe I’m gonna fckn **** myself, but this is a card game so then again maybe I’m bluffing, maybe everything’s going to be alright, maybe I’m being uptight for nothing, but I’ll tell you what I feel like the **** of my own joke, but I don’t give a fck so instead of changing I’m just shrugging, mean mugging every person I pass suspicious of every bloke, because these days crime pays and everyone’s always up to something, and I just want to get ghost, but I can’t and I guess that’s the way it goes, so I’m sittin’ in the uncomfortable position, of being both a role model as well as a criminal, Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian, got this queasy feeling on the line reeling, coming undone at the same time wound up and spun, I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing… ∆ LaLux ∆
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
The Villian & The Dealer
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian, got this queasy feeling on the line reeling, coming undone at the same time wound up and spun, I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing, want to throw myself up out of myself, can escape every position except the one I’m in, can’t escape yourself if knowledge is wealth, then I’m loaded & still spending my winnings, got Karma Credit but I’m morally cash poor, because I just fckt my girlfriend as if she was a ***** and I feel terrible or rather horrible about it, because i think I’m infected by what neglect did without a cure, no one is pure, at least I’m not that’s for sure, I'm tainted with devils in my head painted with what I spilled I’m red, sick with the sort of illness that can't easily be cured, in fact got a bad case of the blues, but instead of strumming a guitar I’m taking things too far, cut her so bad with my fingernails, that I fear it might leave a few scars, tied her up so tight, that her wrists turned purple, see she’s attracted to bad boys, and I warned her that that’s the type of attraction that can hurt you, little girl shouldn’t be out past her curfew, nothing good ever happens past midnight, but we’re both running from something, both stand outs in the in crowd still something doesn’t sit right, I’m uncomfortable, because I think maybe all humans are disgusting, maybe we just cause each other pain and trash the earth’s surface, maybe we deserve to feel guilty & that’s why we are all fcking distrusting, maybe I’m gonna fckn **** myself, but this is a card game so then again maybe I’m bluffing, maybe everything’s going to be alright, maybe I’m being uptight for nothing, but I’ll tell you what I feel like the **** of my own joke, but I don’t give a fck so instead of changing I’m just shrugging, mean mugging every person I pass suspicious of every bloke, because these days crime pays and everyone’s always up to something, and I just want to get ghost, but I can’t and I guess that’s the way it goes, so I’m sittin’ in the uncomfortable position, of being both a role model as well as a criminal, Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian, got this queasy feeling on the line reeling, coming undone at the same time wound up and spun, I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing… ∆ LaLux ∆
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Living on borrowed time Decision at drop of a hat Down an empty vandalized street, I walk through the horror of silence and silence of serenity perdurable pathway of life The ghastly sights and the rustling gates scattered people with unknown tastes emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words void is profound down the perdurable pathway of life Bifurcated roads upfront my perception, one to hell and one to heaven the other end of roads, a mystery I stood there comprehending, while my mind harks back to before I came down the perdurable pathway of life Endurance of a toiler Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer pain and suffering he undergoes for common good loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships sincerity and humbleness of the bloke will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life Deprived of education desolated on streets laboring disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile The kid's love and determination, will inspire me down the perdurable pathway of life Spurn love took her down Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality not a wise choice, but courageous I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest Reality speaks otherwise Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought conscious and hard choices right ahead The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell? I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
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Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
The Ghastly Choices
Living on borrowed time Decision at drop of a hat Down an empty vandalized street, I walk through the horror of silence and silence of serenity perdurable pathway of life The ghastly sights and the rustling gates scattered people with unknown tastes emptiness in their eyes, anger in their words void is profound down the perdurable pathway of life Bifurcated roads upfront my perception, one to hell and one to heaven the other end of roads, a mystery I stood there comprehending, while my mind harks back to before I came down the perdurable pathway of life Endurance of a toiler Stoicism, a rare trait, out of gratitude to employer pain and suffering he undergoes for common good loyalty to his master, inspire of hardships sincerity and humbleness of the bloke will inspire me, down the perdurable pathway of life Deprived of education desolated on streets laboring disparate from parental love, subject to father's fury fractious relations but still ignores himself, for family and domicile The kid's love and determination, will inspire me down the perdurable pathway of life Spurn love took her down Her heart wrenched and pushed her beyond limits killed herself, leaving her parents to sore reality not a wise choice, but courageous I ponder upon courage, rather than cowardly suicide Death is not an option down the perdurable pathway of life Happy faces around taunt me to do simplest Reality speaks otherwise Reckoning on past, the pathway is wrought conscious and hard choices right ahead The bifurcated roads to heaven and hell? I've seen it all, down the perdurable pathway of life
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a tumblr full of rocks a pour of ichiro malt and a stir gan bei and ichi to the yamazaki and nikkas i am in the land of the sun i go down to the land of the dead mei hi ko anejo casa amigo, to my brothers in arms jose, i must have my agave cheers to the alamo to the land of the prohibition kentucky yippee kay yay bourbon, spicy rye kick spur to the horse giddy up, giddy up riding off into the sun set to kentucky derby bourbon ballentines tom ford west make your mark with maker’s mark bottoms up and now i am staggering vichi patia better than grey goose aunt jiin and all the cult gin navy strength and **** juice getting rowdy like irish bloke jameson and that **** scot macallan and his gang oiban, glenfiddich, and glenlivet I am livid at that son of a ***** son of peat another round i am monkeying around monkey 47 sun set sun rise *** on the beach i see kings and queens louis thirteen i am going to sleep pappy van winkle 100 years like rip van winkle don’t wake me stir and not shaken good night, mama sweet havana neat a shot of don papa i go to sleep
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
kindred spirits
The thing about dancing, Is that it surely was invented post the 'mighty invention of music' The might of music was such, That the then tensile souls couldn't do much And when some ******* back in the day Thought he could probably get away With being cheesy, without getting hit by a rock, If he put down his words in a tune and wore a dancing frock Whilst he was going at it on a cheese license, trying to compose a 'song', This other bloke from down the road wondered where this 'sound' is coming from? The music got to him, for he was the first to hear it apart from it's maker He growled and stood up, to put his ale down in a magic shaker And so he thought his colon would erupt If he didn’t tap his feet to it with that ale he supped, Completely unaware of the fact that shaking his head would be soon to follow, And so to speak, rest of his body, headed in a direction that seemed perfectly hollow And thus he made some gravity defying moves one after the other, Hitting stacks of bread he just yelled, "Happiness rediscovered" That piteous drunk soul was unaware that it would go on to be know as ‘dancing’ If he were smarter or sober, he could have told it to the world himself with pride while prancing What made him do it? Probably the music, probably he got laid twice the previous night, Or his ex got divorced, yeah that would really end the fright So he pounced on some meat and again shook his ***** Like he owed it to the world, like it was his duty Whatever was the reason, in that magic season The consequences of it gave us dancing & made mankind elevate It was henceforth branded as a gesture to celebrate. So let’s.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
Invention Of Dancing
The thing about dancing, Is that it surely was invented post the 'mighty invention of music' The might of music was such, That the then tensile souls couldn't do much And when some ******* back in the day Thought he could probably get away With being cheesy, without getting hit by a rock, If he put down his words in a tune and wore a dancing frock Whilst he was going at it on a cheese license, trying to compose a 'song', This other bloke from down the road wondered where this 'sound' is coming from? The music got to him, for he was the first to hear it apart from it's maker He growled and stood up, to put his ale down in a magic shaker And so he thought his colon would erupt If he didn’t tap his feet to it with that ale he supped, Completely unaware of the fact that shaking his head would be soon to follow, And so to speak, rest of his body, headed in a direction that seemed perfectly hollow And thus he made some gravity defying moves one after the other, Hitting stacks of bread he just yelled, "Happiness rediscovered" That piteous drunk soul was unaware that it would go on to be know as ‘dancing’ If he were smarter or sober, he could have told it to the world himself with pride while prancing What made him do it? Probably the music, probably he got laid twice the previous night, Or his ex got divorced, yeah that would really end the fright So he pounced on some meat and again shook his ***** Like he owed it to the world, like it was his duty Whatever was the reason, in that magic season The consequences of it gave us dancing & made mankind elevate It was henceforth branded as a gesture to celebrate. So let’s.
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I took her for some fish and chips, We had a reight good time. The two of us kept locking lips, It really int a crime. But then she saw this pilot bloke: It really wasn’t fair. Though I’m a super Trekkie clerk, She saw me as a square. What she saw in him I’ll never know, There really was no reason. But off she went with him, oh no! It felt just like a treason. Those fish and chips are getting cold, With no-one there to eat ‘em. Them mushy peas have gone to waste, be told, But she prefers to cheat ‘em. There are more fish in the sea they say, And now I’m talking females. Every dog will have his day, I’d better watch my emails. Paul Butters
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Love's Labours
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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2.7k
Bonehead Bill
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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