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"bumble" poems
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven— Nature is what we hear— The Bobolink—the Sea— Thunder—the Cricket— Nay—Nature is Harmony— Nature is what we know— Yet have no art to say— So impotent Our Wisdom is To her Simplicity.
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Nature is what we see
sting sting my body sings My father told me tried and sold me the sting in a bumble bee's wings **** me **** me my body thrashed i find and eat the sugary nectar in the ice cream in the trash **** me **** me my father lied there's no flying with bumble bee wings trust me, i tried
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
bumblebee icecream
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine. Nine little soldier boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight. Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon; One said he’d stay there and then there were seven. Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six. Six little soldier boys playing with a hive; A bumble bee stung one and then there were five. Five little soldier boys going in for law; One got in chancery and then there were four. Four little soldier boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two. Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one. One little soldier boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
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Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC
Ten little soldier boys
In 2005 The Piano Man was found wandering the streets of Sheerness in a soaking wet suit and tie he didn't say a word. When presented with pad and pen he simply drew a grand piano. His nurses sat him in front of a beat up old upright he played for four hours straight; for four months his hands were the only things to break his silence. Alexandre Dumas said "man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy." Do you ever think about how Beethoven hacked the legs off his piano so he could feel the sounds he couldn't hear in his head, through his chest? And Van Gogh heard the sounds his paintings made but kept going until his sanity was just a memory floating on a distant river under a tired Milky Way. And you see, like a Gaelic folk song blindness runs red through my family, so I know it's not much but I'm here, still trying to mould my hands to say the right form of 'I love you'. And did you know that the human heart beats over 30 million times a year, but we still have a hard time keeping our feet on the ground? And did you know that the act of breaking in a horse is actually the act of breaking it's back? Like we can't sit without sitting on broken things. And did you know that every time a mobile phone sends out a GPS signal a bee loses it's way home, and every bee that doesn't reach it's hive dies? So on nights when your pulse matches the beat of my favourite song you don't have to wonder if it's me matching the syncopation of your silence -- and I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for. And I wonder if you realise that on days you're not here I roll up my sleeves, count the beats without you, sit on the backseat and miss you. And somewhere The Piano Man rolls up his sleeves creates the Big Bang under his fingertips. And in 2005 on an April morning in Sheerness, a suited piano man walks straight into the ocean, begs the current to take him. I send you a message a bee loses it's way home. I send you another another bee dies. My chest cavity is a bumble bee crypt, my tongue a honeyed graveyard. Another message. The Big Bang. The hive. A suit. That ocean. Another back is broken. Another message is sent. I fear I am more honeycomb than heart. To create is to destroy. To destroy is to succeed. And would you just look at what these piano hands have finally done.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
The Piano Man
In 2005 The Piano Man was found wandering the streets of Sheerness in a soaking wet suit and tie he didn't say a word. When presented with pad and pen he simply drew a grand piano. His nurses sat him in front of a beat up old upright he played for four hours straight; for four months his hands were the only things to break his silence. Alexandre Dumas said "man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy." Do you ever think about how Beethoven hacked the legs off his piano so he could feel the sounds he couldn't hear in his head, through his chest? And Van Gogh heard the sounds his paintings made but kept going until his sanity was just a memory floating on a distant river under a tired Milky Way. And you see, like a Gaelic folk song blindness runs red through my family, so I know it's not much but I'm here, still trying to mould my hands to say the right form of 'I love you'. And did you know that the human heart beats over 30 million times a year, but we still have a hard time keeping our feet on the ground? And did you know that the act of breaking in a horse is actually the act of breaking it's back? Like we can't sit without sitting on broken things. And did you know that every time a mobile phone sends out a GPS signal a bee loses it's way home, and every bee that doesn't reach it's hive dies? So on nights when your pulse matches the beat of my favourite song you don't have to wonder if it's me matching the syncopation of your silence -- and I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for. And I wonder if you realise that on days you're not here I roll up my sleeves, count the beats without you, sit on the backseat and miss you. And somewhere The Piano Man rolls up his sleeves creates the Big Bang under his fingertips. And in 2005 on an April morning in Sheerness, a suited piano man walks straight into the ocean, begs the current to take him. I send you a message a bee loses it's way home. I send you another another bee dies. My chest cavity is a bumble bee crypt, my tongue a honeyed graveyard. Another message. The Big Bang. The hive. A suit. That ocean. Another back is broken. Another message is sent. I fear I am more honeycomb than heart. To create is to destroy. To destroy is to succeed. And would you just look at what these piano hands have finally done.
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Big red gnomes stomp and clomp, shaking me up inside. Rumble, Tumble, Bumble they go; making me all jittery inside. Fists want to fly, Words want to scream, and Angry Red Gnomes want to win.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
Red Gnomes
I'm bored, as bored as someone can be I'm bored, running circles around my thoughts like a bumble bee I'm bored, with every breath I take I'm bored, and boredom is the only thing in people that couldn't be fake Fake smiles you throw Yet your fake smiles don't work because you still look like a crow Fake laughs so high You think high pitch can make the time fly? Fake faces you reveal You eat up on lies like a happy meal… Fake body you wear every day, Yet at the end of the time, no one's interested in your body made of clay Fake gazes, fake stairs Fake intentions climbing up the stairs Fake jewelry, fake phone This is a list of fake I could always go one Fake hearts, fake emotions Fake intimacy, fake devotions Fake marriages, fake divorce Fake sympathy and fake remorse Fake empathy, fake duty and chores… Your lies are fake, which makes them true But again, your truth is fake too! Fake thoughts fake you Fake thoughts fake you I will go back to being bored, for boredom is the only thing that's right Fake rights make you go left; fake lefts take you out of sight Fake lives you lead a head of you, but you can't get your fake boredom that's why I cherish my boredom so much Fake groups of happy, you're not happy, you're just a fake ignorant bunch I'll go back to my boredom for it gives me a sense of sanity And takes me a bit away from your fake ego and vanity Fake hugs fake care Fake lungs of fake air I'll go back to my boredom, for my boredom is unique And my boredom made me realize how fake you are as we speak…
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Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
MY WISE BOREDOM:
I'm bored, as bored as someone can be I'm bored, running circles around my thoughts like a bumble bee I'm bored, with every breath I take I'm bored, and boredom is the only thing in people that couldn't be fake Fake smiles you throw Yet your fake smiles don't work because you still look like a crow Fake laughs so high You think high pitch can make the time fly? Fake faces you reveal You eat up on lies like a happy meal… Fake body you wear every day, Yet at the end of the time, no one's interested in your body made of clay Fake gazes, fake stairs Fake intentions climbing up the stairs Fake jewelry, fake phone This is a list of fake I could always go one Fake hearts, fake emotions Fake intimacy, fake devotions Fake marriages, fake divorce Fake sympathy and fake remorse Fake empathy, fake duty and chores… Your lies are fake, which makes them true But again, your truth is fake too! Fake thoughts fake you Fake thoughts fake you I will go back to being bored, for boredom is the only thing that's right Fake rights make you go left; fake lefts take you out of sight Fake lives you lead a head of you, but you can't get your fake boredom that's why I cherish my boredom so much Fake groups of happy, you're not happy, you're just a fake ignorant bunch I'll go back to my boredom for it gives me a sense of sanity And takes me a bit away from your fake ego and vanity Fake hugs fake care Fake lungs of fake air I'll go back to my boredom, for my boredom is unique And my boredom made me realize how fake you are as we speak…
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What did you say to me? How did you say to be? Scent of the flowers sweet, I fell off the path; the beat. Metamorphoses buzzing creep. Bumblebee, Bumblebee Nectar pollen and wiggle-dance, Tear off the shirt and pants, Without it I’m incomplete, Rotting in self-defeat, Awashed in a wild sea, Bumblebee, Bumblebee Buzzin’ so high and flyin’ Honeycomb drunken Mayan, Falling west, rising east, The party will not surcease, While I am the Bumble-beast! Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee The flight it takes off and from, As flowers of life become, Praying up to the Sun, What am I imagining?  (image-gen-nun) August vino de lum Bumblebee, Bumblebee Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee
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Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
Bumblebee
Snake prowls Preying owls Welcome to the jungle Night things emerge Carnivores get the urge Welcome to the jungle Rainforest mammal Dry desert camel All know the law of the land Swinging monkey on a tree Or the flower-loving bumble bee Know a jungle when they see one Creatures with hungry jaws Tear flesh with razor claws For that's how a jungle should be Man so set apart Just because he has a human heart? The joke's on me So bask in the fantasy That life comes so easily Then welcome to the jungle
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Nov 25, 2009
Nov 25, 2009 at 7:31 AM UTC
Welcome to the Jungle
Megan my partner in crime my bumble bee twin my best friend Best friends since second grade that's.... what 15 years now? 16? Sleepovers at eachothers homes Pixie stick highs and slushy brain freezes Trips to my grandmother's, for a Harry Potter Marathon Rocking out to Halestorm Daughters of Darkness through and through Foil art doodling and reading through the night Did I mention the trip to Walmart? ten at night just for a loaf of bread? Screaming at eachother, throwing punches Calling names so bad tears start to form Saying we're through we're done mo more friendship two minutes later laughing stupidly together Our favorite place, Weedamo woods, High Rock, queens of the world I visit those memories in my dreams I miss my soul sister my best friend for life I miss being able to call you up and yell *"YO ***** come get me I need to talk."* You're still my bestie and you always will b This separation don't forget is only temporary. I'll move down there soon and together we can rec havoc once more until then please don't forget me I know I haven't forgotten you.
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
MY Partner In Crime
Dusk! With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings! Bats! Glowing red eyes and glistening fangs, These unspeakable giant bugs drop into view.* Fibrous wings furred like a moth, Big ears are just a membranous extension of antennae. Flying in search of a flower’s pollen laden froth, Silent except for the hum and squeak of echolocation. Trap bats in attics, butterflies in nets. No rabies feared, no bedbug bites to itch. Clawed feet ****** and grab like praying mantis pincers; Bloated stomach slopes like a pudgy beetle. Jaws manipulate like an ant, excise like scissors; Soft hair rustles like a wooly caterpillar. They live in darkness, centipedes do too, Come out at night like cockroaches tend to. Skittering through the night like daddy long-legs, Noses snubbed like bumble bee faces. Wind turbines endanger bats, Like fans endanger lightning bugs. Only one percent of bats are vampiric, Like only a small percentage of spiders are poisonous. Dawn! With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings! Bats! Bats are bugs, aren’t they?
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May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:04 PM UTC
Bats Aren’t Bugs!
tenderness leaves my eyes in capillary ribbons. your diamond lips are chalked, released from rock. your head, a knot of angel pine— a dark-brown blooming sticky and lucked to the back of my throat. it is in this moment that I hear a wisp of rapture blowing through the oak overhead. my heart’s motor cranked like October’s last churning bumble bee. *pollination susurration be gone…* you kept looking past me, your hand on my shoulder. the precious gauze of your profile mixed porcelain doll and found a chisel to perfect your nose. I feel the love of everything and you—so unaware of your beautiful.
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Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
I hear a wisp of rapture
How can I see you yet never go Blind As Tradition and Heart seek to acclaim? I carry no Surveys; But keep in mind A Friend such as you has naught to explain Sweet and Sour Words not; Joy discovers Joy And Celebration does reward the Humble Your Grin is shy by your arms; As a Toy Compare a Fattened Bee to a Bumble Trust is falling in love with Pockets. True, Digging deep you reach Wisdom by the Card I suggest you shuffle; Then Five Trinkets Spell out the Sum of who you really are: Simple. Gay. Serene. Trustsworthy. Beauty. All locked in your Chest to open when ready.
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: HELEN RUSHBY
Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom knew a deer named Rudy had a ruby snooty knew a deer named Rudy had a ruby snooty you see a red light in the air you knew Rudy was flying there Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Couldn't play the reindeer games Had to hide his nose in shame Couldn't play the reindeer games Had to hide his nose in shame So he chose to run away Away from where the reindeer play Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Went off, with an elf They went off by themselves Went off, with an elf They went off by themselves Had adventures in the snow They tried to hide old Rudy's glow Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Met a man wantin' gold And a bumble,in the cold Met a man wantin' gold And a bumble, in the cold Found the land of misfit toys Waiting for good girls and boys Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Found their way to Christmas Town Santa Claus was feeling down Found their way to Christmas Town Santa Claus was feeling down Santa told the elves I fear There won't be a Christmas trip this year Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Then Santa saw old Rudy's nose You know how the story goes When Santa saw old Rudy's nose You know how the story goes He led Santa on his flight Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:28 PM UTC
Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer (my version, sung to Tutti Frutti by Little Richard)
Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom knew a deer named Rudy had a ruby snooty knew a deer named Rudy had a ruby snooty you see a red light in the air you knew Rudy was flying there Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Couldn't play the reindeer games Had to hide his nose in shame Couldn't play the reindeer games Had to hide his nose in shame So he chose to run away Away from where the reindeer play Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Went off, with an elf They went off by themselves Went off, with an elf They went off by themselves Had adventures in the snow They tried to hide old Rudy's glow Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Met a man wantin' gold And a bumble,in the cold Met a man wantin' gold And a bumble, in the cold Found the land of misfit toys Waiting for good girls and boys Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Found their way to Christmas Town Santa Claus was feeling down Found their way to Christmas Town Santa Claus was feeling down Santa told the elves I fear There won't be a Christmas trip this year Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boom Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy Ruby snooty, Oh Rudy A Bop bopa-lu a whop bam boom Then Santa saw old Rudy's nose You know how the story goes When Santa saw old Rudy's nose You know how the story goes He led Santa on his flight Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night
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(And I've been picking dandelions) The rush of wind chases a wayward cloud Over the foliage's luscious green mounds It billows on its good fortune allowed Feeding flowers leave stock's roots underground Petals bloom; centered bud's pollinations The sun burdens and caresses at once The bumble lost its edge to pollutants Overcome in the tepid meadows grace The seasons start to grow long and narrow Encompassing the changing of our times within their altering breadths; to and fro It's shown upon the rocks face's in tides She's beauty, ruffling with sents of sweet dew And in her pluck, spring has become renewed
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Sonnet #64 There are many flowers in the meadow
1628 A Drunkard cannot meet a Cork Without a Revery— And so encountering a Fly This January Day Jamaicas of Remembrance stir That send me reeling in— The moderate drinker of Delight Does not deserve the spring— Of juleps, part are the Jug And more are in the joy— Your connoisseur in Liquours Consults the Bumble Bee—
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A Drunkard cannot meet a Cork
Oh, black and white bumble-bee I heard that you came for me. Since then, I've been running away. Your awkward skin coloring and dotted-line poetry is surely a sight to amaze. But, I've got no infantry, so I called my cavalry. I'm sure that you'll battle for days. Oh, black and white bumble-bee I heard that you came for me. Since then, I've been running away. Your awkward skin coloring and dotted-line poetry is nothing I'll see on this day.
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Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 1:27 AM UTC
Black and White Bumble-Bee
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me. One came the road that I came— And wore my last year’s gown— The other, as a bird her nest, Builded our hearts among. She did not sing as we did— It was a different tune— Herself to her a music As Bumble bee of June. Today is far from Childhood— But up and down the hills I held her hand the tighter— Which shortened all the miles— And still her hum The years among, Deceives the Butterfly; Still in her Eye The Violets lie Mouldered this many May. I spilt the dew— But took the morn— I chose this single star From out the wide night’s numbers— Sue—forevermore!
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One Sister have I in our house
1746 The most important population Unnoticed dwell, They have a heaven each instant Not any hell. Their names, unless you know them, ’Twere useless tell. Of bumble-bees and other nations The grass is full.
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3.8k
The most important population
It was some yesterday, sitting in my high chair eating salted cucumber slices a wooden one three adjustments only locked in a bumble bee landed on my arm the pain raced through my blood and brain little pin ****** I could not get out my memory stops there sitting in my chair.
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Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
Cucumber Chair
Blessed is the man who does not take offense I'm speaking in the present tense There is no sitting on the fence This poem will now take me hence... An offense will make us stumble Forget the bluster and the bumble Our defense will surely crumble In all things we must be humble When we see another's error Are we really all the fairer? Look Within it will be clearer Are we looking in a mirror? When we see reflection's bust Do we see lines? Perhaps some crust? Being honest is a must! What have we done **that WE can't trust?** True of the bird as well the bee We are all one cloth you see! Self-assessment makes you free! This is true humility. SoulSurvivor (C) 7/23/2016
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
Upon Taking Offense
Rhyme Mechanic When talking to me, wear a hard hat, or on your face, you'll fall flat. I'm the **** and I'm where it's at. People get down on your knees, or I'll chop you down, like dead trees, I never promise or make guarantees. I take the roads less traveled, never confused and rarely baffled, in my web, you all get tangled. None of you can compete, I like girls that are petite, never will I take a back seat. It's me that people always follow, the girls I meet always swallow, so what if I'm very shallow. I'm all that and a bag of chips, my head's so big, everyday is an eclipse, no one has a bigger bag of tricks. I have an ego to the highest power, I bloom more than any kind of flower, don't mess with me, or I'll devour. No other person is close to me, I sting worse than a bumble bee, to all the secrets, I hold the key. Not my fault my head is big, mess with me and I'll stuff you like a pig, I shoot loads like an oil rig. I'll break your heart and rip out your soul, you can't touch me with a ten foot pole, my life is always in cruise control. This is me when I'm feeling manic, no need to worry, no need to panic, just call me the rhyme mechanic.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
Rhyme Mechanic
Softly and steadily we munch A roller motion action As we gently pass over Living in a contented silence Randomly we each call Hollow pipes we are played By the holy organist As life plays its tune Understood be very few As we submit to the herd And spiral around a oneness Mooing and mooing With a great gusto We send out O's circles spiraling Softly blowing bubbles With an oily shine We are carried forward In these bulbs of light Air filled with vibration Caressing and holding Our community with An invisible film As we all feel this Light headed embrace And the golden ring of community Is placed on our finger We say "YES YES YES " For we love her very much   Living free of hierarchy As everyone is equal Servant and master Divorced from the conflicting Ties of politics We are as level and free as The planes from which we graze Living a freedom faraway from Rank and power And enjoy the vast out stretching Places where our hearts unburdened By mountains unfold into unlimited spaces Collapsing within each breath We spread our Love with the ease Of melting butter in the African sun Far and wide In the mating season We may bumble around Like bumper cars As you can not underestimate The force of each individual As we bang and bang our way   Through life until opportunity knocks Until life says yes As our our stubbornness Is not just the perfect No But the perfect Yes to And mothers reward our newborns With her loving milk The perfect colostrum A silky bliss In the expansive community Of wildebeest and cattle Where endless love Can spread like water We can learn so very much
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
THE WILDEBEEST COMMUNITY
Softly and steadily we munch A roller motion action As we gently pass over Living in a contented silence Randomly we each call Hollow pipes we are played By the holy organist As life plays its tune Understood be very few As we submit to the herd And spiral around a oneness Mooing and mooing With a great gusto We send out O's circles spiraling Softly blowing bubbles With an oily shine We are carried forward In these bulbs of light Air filled with vibration Caressing and holding Our community with An invisible film As we all feel this Light headed embrace And the golden ring of community Is placed on our finger We say "YES YES YES " For we love her very much   Living free of hierarchy As everyone is equal Servant and master Divorced from the conflicting Ties of politics We are as level and free as The planes from which we graze Living a freedom faraway from Rank and power And enjoy the vast out stretching Places where our hearts unburdened By mountains unfold into unlimited spaces Collapsing within each breath We spread our Love with the ease Of melting butter in the African sun Far and wide In the mating season We may bumble around Like bumper cars As you can not underestimate The force of each individual As we bang and bang our way   Through life until opportunity knocks Until life says yes As our our stubbornness Is not just the perfect No But the perfect Yes to And mothers reward our newborns With her loving milk The perfect colostrum A silky bliss In the expansive community Of wildebeest and cattle Where endless love Can spread like water We can learn so very much
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65
strawberry frenchfries dipped in chocolate fondue. cry me an 8 oz cup of water when i step on you with my giant blue shoe. dance through the forest with gnomes stapled to your shoulders. hide your foil gum wrappers in manila folders. left and right. front to back, oxygen in the atmosphere may lack. pluto and jupiter intertwine when night falls. orange and green leather sewn to your ragdoll. licking the excess frito crumbs from under your fingernails, eyes pealed to the scenery of wacky inmates in jail. selfish yellow and blue fish yelling at dr. seuss, reading books in sunrooms drinking orange juice. camera flashes and ripped dollar bills, making chocolate pancakes on top of cherry hills. hazy eyes drowning into a dream, winter nights as cold as ben&jerrys; ice cream. red hand chasing numbers on a clock, movement of legs turns muscles into rock. acid drops from black heart clouds falling onto driveways. little kids on scooters munching on happy meals while saddened by the loss of sunrays. 23 degrees celsius and shine forcing itself through. ice cream trucks and roadraged humans trying to get through. bumble bee roads with lines and street signs, teens boredum, smoking dope, drinking ***** getting fines. police on the prowl everyday, every night, seeing through lies, keeping their sight wide-open like a mouth in surprise. fettuchini alfredo at fancy restaurants. ice cold water knocked over on a ladys lap. words missing letters, conversations missing sound. apples and basketballs losing shape and sense of round. flat chested skinny ******* slipping through cracks in wooden floors, obese transexuals getting stuck in between doors. puzzle pieces glued to the top of a bald head, veins appear blue but blood is red. blowing kisses, blowing out candles cats,dogs,birds wearing sandals.
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Feb 19, 2011
Feb 19, 2011 at 5:27 PM UTC
a wonderful mind
strawberry frenchfries dipped in chocolate fondue. cry me an 8 oz cup of water when i step on you with my giant blue shoe. dance through the forest with gnomes stapled to your shoulders. hide your foil gum wrappers in manila folders. left and right. front to back, oxygen in the atmosphere may lack. pluto and jupiter intertwine when night falls. orange and green leather sewn to your ragdoll. licking the excess frito crumbs from under your fingernails, eyes pealed to the scenery of wacky inmates in jail. selfish yellow and blue fish yelling at dr. seuss, reading books in sunrooms drinking orange juice. camera flashes and ripped dollar bills, making chocolate pancakes on top of cherry hills. hazy eyes drowning into a dream, winter nights as cold as ben&jerrys; ice cream. red hand chasing numbers on a clock, movement of legs turns muscles into rock. acid drops from black heart clouds falling onto driveways. little kids on scooters munching on happy meals while saddened by the loss of sunrays. 23 degrees celsius and shine forcing itself through. ice cream trucks and roadraged humans trying to get through. bumble bee roads with lines and street signs, teens boredum, smoking dope, drinking ***** getting fines. police on the prowl everyday, every night, seeing through lies, keeping their sight wide-open like a mouth in surprise. fettuchini alfredo at fancy restaurants. ice cold water knocked over on a ladys lap. words missing letters, conversations missing sound. apples and basketballs losing shape and sense of round. flat chested skinny ******* slipping through cracks in wooden floors, obese transexuals getting stuck in between doors. puzzle pieces glued to the top of a bald head, veins appear blue but blood is red. blowing kisses, blowing out candles cats,dogs,birds wearing sandals.
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On the top of the Crumpetty Tree The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see, On account of his ****** Hat. For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide, With ribbons and bibbons on every side And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace, So that nobody every could see the face Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. The Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, -- "Jam; and jelly; and bread; "Are the best of food for me! "But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree "The plainer than ever it seems to me "That very few people come this way "And that life on the whole is far from gay!" Said the Quangle Wangle Quee. But there came to the Crumpetty Tree, Mr. and Mrs. Canary; And they said, -- "Did every you see "Any spot so charmingly airy? "May we build a nest on your lovely Hat? "Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! "O please let us come and build a nest "Of whatever material suits you best, "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl; The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee, The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl; (The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;) And all of them said, -- "We humbly beg, "We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, -- "Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" And the Golden Grouse came there, And the Pobble who has no toes, -- And the small Olympian bear, -- And the **** with a luminous nose. And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, -- And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, -- And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, -- All came and built on the lovely Hat Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, -- "When all these creatures move "What a wonderful noise there'll be!" And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, And all were as happy as happy could be, With the Quangle Wangle Quee.
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The Quangle Wangle's Hat
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see, On account of his ****** Hat. For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide, With ribbons and bibbons on every side And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace, So that nobody every could see the face Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. The Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, -- "Jam; and jelly; and bread; "Are the best of food for me! "But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree "The plainer than ever it seems to me "That very few people come this way "And that life on the whole is far from gay!" Said the Quangle Wangle Quee. But there came to the Crumpetty Tree, Mr. and Mrs. Canary; And they said, -- "Did every you see "Any spot so charmingly airy? "May we build a nest on your lovely Hat? "Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! "O please let us come and build a nest "Of whatever material suits you best, "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl; The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee, The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl; (The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;) And all of them said, -- "We humbly beg, "We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, -- "Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that! "Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!" And the Golden Grouse came there, And the Pobble who has no toes, -- And the small Olympian bear, -- And the **** with a luminous nose. And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, -- And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, -- And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, -- All came and built on the lovely Hat Of the Quangle Wangle Quee. And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, -- "When all these creatures move "What a wonderful noise there'll be!" And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon, On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree, And all were as happy as happy could be, With the Quangle Wangle Quee.
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Black And White Beauty For Miles To See, Yellow Has Drained From Every Bumble Bee, What Do We Do? Are We Free? Do We Flee? Everything Is Black--Even The Blue Seas Flowers Dwindle; Yet There Wasn't A Change, Our World Is Now Completely Rearranged, There's No More Money--People Can't Exchange, It's Gone Now--All The People Were Deranged The Black And White Is Nothing To Be Seen, All Those Material Things--Kings And Queens, Cars, Cash, Even Blood, And Plasma Screens, There's Even More Agression Towards The Mean! Black And White Beauty Is All Around Me, *I Only Say It So I Can Be Free The Black And White--Oh It Wants Me To Plea, I Will Stay Strong, So I Can Have The Key*
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
Black And White Beauty