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"breading" poems
Should my anticipation run behind, when the air so cold runs dry? My mind is a wonder in this ponder ahead of me. For some reason my heart says you're a bit overwhelmed but I can't help but rely on will dwell. Some of the sun spots reflect the conscious of hell we rebel. The eye of the drafty wind. My mind wonders as I see the sun bleed, my heart sinks as the hours pass. You remind me of the constellations breading. The halo is gorgeous as your amber glows the Tuesday moon bringing in the Wednesday revenge, a perfect circle to a perfect gratitude of the lust we shared in a wanted haunting. Your strawberry kiss gathers my mood swings. It's heart carries a stone the size of the moon. Pity from far but a sight to see the circle of life surrounds the familiar meaning of how much you mean to me. Some days I can't remember some days I would like to forget. When lovers split into million pieces call me out as I blacken into fading out the cool breeze cold chill spinal tap heart attack buried deep in my bones a diamond in the ruff. My fractal eye frame this sight picture it twice keep me in mind what you see is what you find. Finding myself blind I'm reminded all the time. I'm bloodshot dry Trying not to cry. My reasons why are believed lies. with just one look no second guess. You'll see my regret. You'll see me die a little in my sight. the half heart you shared the day I felt I would care... I would reside my life just to keep you near of a grateful insight. Standing in line waiting to see you see my side. I found my peace you had fit the feeling of being complete embraced me. to let it be. hesitation aside I would rewind my life just to keep you close by, but the patterns we can't hide from this manifested tide. A rush of love a loss of touch we reach for the sky but the stars just keep pushing high as we keep stretching our time is space.
0
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 11:33 PM UTC
Coconut Reggie
Should my anticipation run behind, when the air so cold runs dry? My mind is a wonder in this ponder ahead of me. For some reason my heart says you're a bit overwhelmed but I can't help but rely on will dwell. Some of the sun spots reflect the conscious of hell we rebel. The eye of the drafty wind. My mind wonders as I see the sun bleed, my heart sinks as the hours pass. You remind me of the constellations breading. The halo is gorgeous as your amber glows the Tuesday moon bringing in the Wednesday revenge, a perfect circle to a perfect gratitude of the lust we shared in a wanted haunting. Your strawberry kiss gathers my mood swings. It's heart carries a stone the size of the moon. Pity from far but a sight to see the circle of life surrounds the familiar meaning of how much you mean to me. Some days I can't remember some days I would like to forget. When lovers split into million pieces call me out as I blacken into fading out the cool breeze cold chill spinal tap heart attack buried deep in my bones a diamond in the ruff. My fractal eye frame this sight picture it twice keep me in mind what you see is what you find. Finding myself blind I'm reminded all the time. I'm bloodshot dry Trying not to cry. My reasons why are believed lies. with just one look no second guess. You'll see my regret. You'll see me die a little in my sight. the half heart you shared the day I felt I would care... I would reside my life just to keep you near of a grateful insight. Standing in line waiting to see you see my side. I found my peace you had fit the feeling of being complete embraced me. to let it be. hesitation aside I would rewind my life just to keep you close by, but the patterns we can't hide from this manifested tide. A rush of love a loss of touch we reach for the sky but the stars just keep pushing high as we keep stretching our time is space.
Continue reading...
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We are but chromosomes Away from Knuckles upon the floor Clothes, Shoes, Naked, Bodies, hair upon all Of us, we are only smarter By fluke **** erectus* Neanderthal Homo-sapiens "Are we the next to fall" Machines with thoughts Able to move think for them selfs Noughts Zero's Cognitive Thought, realization that the Creator is below the creation, "Are we the masters of our own downfall" We have reached the time When one must progress And the other becomes A museum Piece attached to a wall, *"Here is a Copy of **** sapiens"* "Last breading pairs in the" "Humanity Zoo" There used to be billions But know there are fewer Than a hundred, a gene pool Nearly extinct, But cross breading is A worthy course mixing Human With Machine, And so the time has come to pass, That those that were on top Are now the last on the bottom of "The food chain" There time came then passed..
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
Hu-Machine
bird of joy forgot to pass by atleast to come say hi behid every loud laugh is long cry or a cold heart were a bird of joy is dead died with silence without any realization or recognition maybe cause of the given hard mission it was un breakable un shakeable new birds are still born let our nest bloom to their wants to get them breading and growing in there.
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Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
bird of joy
*Spread over warm shortbread , a drizzle with molasses and cornbread On a fresh baked apple , a dabble on a **** , a spoonful over your corn on the cob Hoecakes , pancakes , johnnycakes and hushpuppies A crawfish boil , a 'smidge in the stew , *** liquor , fresh hominy in the fridge , drop biscuits , catfish breading and Columbus grits Grandmother's frosting with a - Mason Jar The Old Red Rooster sleeps in PawPaw's car Barn Owl hoot 'n holler Two York's in the afternoon wallow Blackberry muffins on the rack An afternoon stitch on Uncle Joe's back Three legged pup in a red clay ditch Mother whipping okra with a hickory switch* .....
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 8:55 PM UTC
The Afternoon Butter ....
beneficient warmbody breading thein theun theorsunic alra RA iffic sensunsultie sssss
0
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:44 AM UTC
solarities
Who will enlighten little Bo-Peep. On the surface compliant sheep, Though breading monsters underneath, and once the sheep have grown their teeth, Were-sheep will have their share of meat. Bo-Peep! ****** wolves derived from sheep!
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Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 5:01 AM UTC
Were-sheep
As she crouches over the pray she never had the courage to catch Watch for emotion in her overflowing eyes Heat Radiates from her Face with ache of unfulfilled wants She Waits... Too Much left to keep inside it feels weightless in her vacant chest Cold covers every part The temperature comes from within the Monster She Waits.. Afraid to find her own reflection To Show those shiny Green Eyes Has she turned already, Is her Fate still in everyone else's Hands? A Monster that has been Breading in her veins She Waits..
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Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 10:34 AM UTC
Green Eyed Monster
Spear my years with a nail or two to disintegrate the partings of rust, and with honey foretelling lacking short age, creates a fine wealth to adjust. The confinements of rails seek some sort of wayward point, breading, kneeding, in absence of hunching mirth. So when the 2's and 3's speed up to fine 6's and 7's; remind me. Remind me to seed kind water and properly place them.
0
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 4:41 PM UTC
Untitled
god does not love me i think he doesn’t even know my name, yet i still wonder what he’d call me by once i arrive at the gates of afterlife, would he disregard what he wrote in the book of life, look me in the eye and call me by the name my parents christened me with instead of human number 99560000c, earth #05? but who am i fooling; i am but a donut flying across infinity in lightspeeds one moment there, a moment later swallowed by the hungry monster who awaits in the black hole am i a snack for idle gods? a cut of chicken running from the jaws of earth, unaware that it is merely flopping from one bowl to another, flour to egg to crumbs— a breading offering for the deities most people have come to accept that, i think as i jump yet again into the bowl of flour but i am not most people, as i refuse to believe the reality that i am but a speck of dust fleeting through life, an insignificant bug easily quashed by the stinking foot of infinity, that old hag. life is temporary too much breading does not do any good i will soon be the trillionth dumped into that pool of hot oil but **** if i’m not going to try scorching the tongue of a god, and while i’m at it, be the most delicious flying donut in the galaxy.
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Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
god does not love me
*Guitar buried in effects Women mired in makeup Men wrapped in ego Woodwork dripping with shellac Seafood dipped in breading Carpet drowning in dust The baptized cleansed in water The son copying the father A publican garnering trust A 62' John Deere seized with rust The dead becoming dust A poker hand royal flush An over and under combination A gods abomination Traipsing the woodline for a spell A five o'clock trip from hell* ...
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Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
A quick collection of random thoughts
The world enters She holds a plate Bows to the table Where you just ate “Someone nice to fall in love with?” “Yea sure, why not?” It's been a heavy meal Your stomach is wrought Fork stabs at the corners Breading, bland and bleak You miss the previous course This is all just lard and leek But you asked for this It's time to eat You opted in For something sweet Are sweet things Not enough for you? Do you crave the heat? Of spice and rue Those rich delicacies Made you shatter and break Let go of them now And finish your plate What you get now And all there is to order A small, simple circle With a felt-tip border A pillow to sleep on A jumper to wear Someone nice to fall in love with If you even care A light to see by A melody to hum Flowers that creep Between apple and plum A meal that is certain A modest, tidy pie Someone nice to fall in love with If you give it a try
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May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 7:15 PM UTC
Pastry
My name around the house is Mr. mushroom Cause I’m always cooking mushrooms Salt and pepper mushrooms Squealing in a pan You’re vegan and you don’t like mushrooms? I don’t understand Looking like a lizard, chewing on stringy hallucinogens Or classy and tall floating in your soup Or rich like truffles Or frilly like flowers that kiss each other Growing in bark, growing on trees Growing in fields with no strawberries. I met a mushroom picker one time, real nice guy Was his trade, did it all day. Squealing in a pan My sister said when it comes to cooking mushrooms, I’m the man. Don’t get all imaginative on me, and start breading and crumbing Just doesn’t do. Just the nice robust standard cups, at your local super market, or sometimes those portabellos Get them sweating like scalps in the heat! Torture them with black pepper, fingernails on blackboards! Then sunburn them in sea salt, crisping around the eyes like a vagabond child Don’t let ‘em escape! Mushrooms clouds, over the reef, think about them in your sleep. Serve with rice or toast with a coffee or tea, It’s Mushrooms for me.
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
Mr. Mushroom
Symbiotic affections InteRdependent Dependencies Loving to live dangerously Breading stiffeled Acrimonious apathy In how many ways and languages Can I tell the operator To clear your line? You need me Like I need you Lub to my dub Lively lyfelynez!
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Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Lyfelynez
So how long has it been since it's stopped? Since I've been disgusted by rain drops? It's almost as if we all stopped breathing, and for a second teenagers stopped breading. It's almost as if we all stopped screaming and for a while we all stopped cheating. So how long will this go on before we start needing this ever lasting feeling of real things? No, the world isn't perfect, but you need to give it a chance, so don't stop caring or it'll be out of your hands. So how long has it been since I've stopped fighting? Since I've been distraught from my writings? It's almost as if the world stopped turning, and for a second we all stopped hurting. It's almost as if adults were finally taught the lessons we've been learning, and for a minute our hearts stopped yearning. But is it plausible? That maybe the world isn't as colossal as the fossils and we just turned the impossible to possible? Only if you put your mind to it
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Did You Feel It Too?