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David Walker Dec 2012
Origins
written and directed
by
David Walker

Inspired
by
the films of
Quentin Tarantino
David Lynch
&
Rob Zombie

There is method
To his madness

                                                        ­                                                                 ­                  January 2013              
                                              ­                                                                 ­                       first draft









1. EXT. Run down project apartment complex - 3:00 am

A dark, tall figure with long black hair and a trenchcoat opens the already cracked red door.

MAN:
I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.

                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                       CUT TO:
INT. Apartment 3

A typical roach infested apartment with a kitchen built into the living room. 3 GIRLS are on the kitchen floor. GIRL # 1 one has black hair with big lips and a curvy frame and she is wearing a pair of Tripp pants and a black bra barely covering her ample *****. She has a flesh colored rubber hose tied to her left arm. GIRL # 2 has dyed rainbow colored hair, a nice smile, and a skinny frame. She is wearing a pair of tore blue jeans with smiley faces and cute in jokes written on them, also not wearing a shirt with a lacy blue bra on. She has a spoon with water and black tar ****** inside it which she is heating up with a silver Zippo with the word "Skittles" engraved into it. GIRL # 3 Has long naturally red hair, glasses and an extremely voluptuous figure. She is wearing tight black pants and a black shirt with thin sleeves. She is inspecting a covered syringe with an unsure look in her eyes.

GIRL # 2:
So, do you wanna do it or not Jane?

Snatches the syringe out of JANE's hand.

JANE:
I'm not sure. How long have you been doing this ****?

Girl #2 takes the orange cap off the syringe revealing a small needle.

GIRL #2:
Since after I graduated. About 3 years. Liz you ready?

LIZ:
As ready as I am for dat sweet tang!

Girl #2 giggles. She sticks the needle into Liz's arm, blood mixes with the brown fluid inside, and she pushes the plunger down. Liz leans back into Girl #2's arms and Girl #2 gives her a kiss.

LIZ:
I love you, Julia.

JULIA:
Well, I love you too.

JANE:
You guys are so gay!

(OS):
Save that **** for the ******* customers!

                                                     ­                                                                 ­                                       CUT TO:
Other side of room. A greasy looking MAN with short faded black hair and a scar going from the corner of his mouth to the right ear is sitting in a beat up recliner cleaning his Uberti 1873 Cattleman revolver while smoking a fat blunt and watching some kind of high budget **** with Sasha Grey in it.

JULIA:
Sorry, Mike. It didn't stop you from leaving me and Liz unsatisfied and bored, did it?

LIZ and JULIA laugh. JANE has a nervous look in her eyes.

MIKE:
Very ******* funny you wore out trick! Am I gonna have to smack the sass out yo mouth?

MIKE gets up, puts out his blunt and walks over to the GIRLS gun in hand.

MIKE:
Or am I gonna have to give your little friend a scar like mine.

LIZ:
Mike don't!

MIKE SLAPS JULIA with the side of his UNLOADED revolver and grabs JANE by her hair.

MIKE:
Who the **** are you, anyways *****?

JANE:
(stuttering)
I was walking down the street earlier today and I ran into Julia and Liz. They went to school with my sister I think. Let me go!

MIKE:
So you're a young'n. Well you have some nice big *******!

MIKE RIPS off her shirt exposing her *******. He begins to squeeze the right one. JANE SLAPS MIKE HARD!

MIKE:
*****!

MIKE lets go of her hair. Jane runs to the other room grabbing her shirt. LIZ stumbles towards him and PUNCHES him in the nose.

MIKE:
That's it! You little *** dumpsters are dead!

MIKE picks up the REVOLVER, runs to the chair where the bullets are and tries to reload. JULIA wakes from her daze. We see him load 3 rounds. All of a sudden the DOOR gets broken down and the dark clad FIGURE from the scene before pulls out a BERETTA M9 with a silencer attachment. MIKE FIRES 2 shots at him haphazardly missing both. The MAN LAUGHS and FIRES one shot that MIKE's crotch catches.

                                                       ­                                                                 ­                                       CUT TO:
2. INT. Next door in Apartment 2.

A MAN and WOMAN in their early 40's are smoking a joint and seem disturbed by the gunfire.

MAN:
(coughing)
What the hell was that?

WOMAN:
Sounded like gunshots. Do you think we should call the cops?

MAN:
**** no! There is a pound of chronic in the bedroom closet! Just pray whoever it is doesn't come over here!

WOMAN:
Okay. Are you gonna pass that?

                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                     CUT TO:
3. INT. Apartment 3.

The smoke has cleared. MIKE is begging for death and BLEEDING out everywhere, JULIA is in a daze, dumbfounded by what she just witnessed, LIZ is cowering in fear, crying, and JANE just came out of the bedroom with her TORN SHIRT on and a terrified "Oh my God" expression. The unknown assailant has a devilish grin upon his face.

MIKE:
Godfuck! **** me you sunuvabitch! Godda--

The MAN obliges. He fires a single shot into his RIGHT EYE.

MAN:
Well, looks like I got here in the nick of time!

JULIA:
(blankly)
W-Who the **** are you?

MAN:
That is of little importance right now. Who are you foxy ladies?

JULIA:
M-My name's Julia. That girl over there (points to Liz) is Liz, and the ginger is Jane.

MAN:
What pretty names! Well, I have a question. Will you three lovely young ladies gather round that despicable looking chair and listen to what I have to say, or are you going to run? Keep in mind I have rope in my trenchcoat and the fact I mean you no harm. I am just a lonely man with a story to tell, and the way I see it, what with that bruise on your sweet face, you kinda owe me.

JULIA:
I think we can stay. I just wanna know your name.

MAN:
Ahh, but I am a man of many names. My christian name is Derek. You don't need the last for now.

DEREK walks to the chair and sits down. He waves the GIRLS over.

DEREK:
C'mon I just want to tell my tale. Look, I will put the gun under the chair as a sign of good faith that neither you girls or I will start shooting the place up again. Are we square ladies?

JULIA:
What do ya say guys?

They gather in the kitchen.

LIZ:
This guy has a ***** loose.

JULIA:
Yes, but he saved us from our ****. We should humor him.

JANE:
I think he is hot!

LIZ and JULIA just stare at JANE.

JANE:
Sorry, but he is.

JULIA:
So it's agreed. We will listen to his story, silently pray he doesn't **** us and leave afterwards.

The GIRLS walk to the chair. DEREK has lit the blunt.

DEREK:
Ahh, so you have decided to join me. Good. Do you guys wanna hit this?

LIZ and JULIA shake their heads no.

JANE:
I will.

DEREK:
Great. Now, where do I begin. I suppose everybody's roots stem from childhood, so lets go back, oh say, 20 years ago.

                                                           ­       FADE TO BLACK        
Against black, TITLE CARD

October 15th 1995.

                                                          ­                       CUT TO      
4. EXT. Suburbia circa 1995.

There are three boys between the ages of 6 and 9 playing in front of a grey HOUSE with a white MINIVAN in the driveway. Little DEREK is a scrawny 6 year old boy with short brown hair and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure in his hands. The 2 other BOYS ages 7 and 9 are picking on him and trying to take away DONATELLO.

DEREK:
Leave me alone or I will whoop your ****.

BOY #1:
Whatever! You are scrawny and lame. Give us your Ninja Turtle now or we will beat you up!

BOY #2 picks up a STICK and starts hitting DEREK with it.

BOY #2:
What are you going to do? Get your daddy? Oh, wait...that's right, you don't have one!

The 2 BULLIES start laughing. A look of hatred fills young DEREK's eyes. He catches the STICK and slaps BOY #2 in the face with it. He then tackles him and starts beating him mercilessly. BOY #1 runs towards the PORCH and knocks on the DOOR. DEREK'S MOM answers. She is in her mid 30's with brown hair and casual clothing on, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of "coffee."

BOY #2:
Derek's beating up Josh again!

DEREK'S MOM:
Well, good for him! Bet that little pecker snot deserved it too. Now, Brad...why don't you take you and your friend on home before I tell your dad you play with Barbies.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
My mother was a sweet ol' broad!

BRAD:
(sighs)
Okay, Ms. Walters, but you do know you are going to have to pull him offa Josh right?

DEREK'S MOM:
(sighs like Brad)
I suppose.

DEREK'S MOM and BRAD walk to the front yard and GASP when they notice that DEREK has knocked out 2 of JOSH'S baby teeth, both in the front and broke his nose, which is bleeding profusely.

DEREK'S MOM:
Derek Charles Walters! Get the **** up offa him!

DEREK:
(crying)
He hit me with a stick!

DEREK'S MOM:
Well, now I'm about to!

She picks up the STICK and beats his *** with it several times.

DEREK:
******* *****!

DEREK'S MOM, infuriated throws the stick down and SLAPS him across the face. DEREK runs away.
He runs to a wooded area in the back yard as far as his legs can take him.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
Do not weep, for on that day, I met God and Satan incarnate and it turns out they existed singularly in my head.
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                          CUT TO:

5. JANE:
Like a conscience?

DEREK:
Much more. These guys are in the room right now and only I can see him. Satan led me to you guys tonight! Who knows what kind of CRAZY hijinks are in store!

JULIA:
That's it I'm outta here! C'mon gu--

DEREK fires of his M9 1 time.

DEREK:
Now, listen to me you dykey, ****** *****. I have 3 more rounds in this ******* and one
of them is reserved for you if you don't sit your tight *** back down.

JULIA sits back down scared to death. DEREK regains his composure and is "all smiles" again.

DEREK:
Phew! I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want someone pretty to listen to my ******* story. ****, if you want, I will ask you guys about yourself later on, but for now I'm going to introduce you to my best friends.

JANE:
Who are they again?

DEREK:
Ah, you were trying to pay attention. I will remember that. They go by many names. One can be called "God", "Heroic Harry", "The White Knight", whatever you envision as good, this **** is it. He is the reason you guys are still alive.

LIZ:
And the other?

DEREK:
Ahh, him. He can go by "Satan", "The ******", "The Angel of Death." He's the reason ol' crusty here no longer bothers you.

LIZ:
So you're basically ape ****, right?

DEREK:
Pretty much! Now where was I? Ah...yes

                                                       ­                                                                 ­                                    CUT TO:

6. INT. Small wooded area behind the house --- Early evening.

DEREK has made himself a nice little HANGOUT in the woods! there is a trunk with tons of comics in it, an arsenal of sharpened sticks and rocks, Batman action figures, and a Game Boy Color. He is drawing a picture at the moment.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
There I was in my element. ****** at my mother, then all of a sudden, a deep, angelic voice rang out.

VOICE #1:
(OS...of course)
You don't have to hate her, you know. She loves you.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then another, this voice sounding more playful and mischievous then the other.

VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, for how long? Do you think she meant to have you?

DEREK:
Where are you guys?

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then they appeared.

A 13 YEAR OLD BOY with BROWN hair and a FLANNEL overshirt over a Nirvana T-SHIRT with baggy torn blue JEANS with stains on them appears.

BOY #1:
Don't hate your mom.

VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, watch her close.

DEREK turns his head. We see another BOY roughly the same age with slightly long BLACK hair and a TRENCHCOAT over a Nine Inch Nails T-SHIRT with tight black CHICK PANTS with a CHAIN leading from his pocket to his BELT. He has a lip piercing and he is smoking a cigarette.

DEREK:
Who are you guys?

BOY #1:
Just think of us as older brothers your mom can't see.

DEREK:
Wow! I should introduce you guys to my friends!

BOY #2:
No!

DEREK:
Why not?

BOY #2:
You are the only person that can see us. Don't go telling anyone and don't talk to us in front of anyone. People will think you are nuts!

BOY #1:
Think of us as two ghosts that give you advice. Don't listen to him though, he'll get you in trouble.

BOY #2:
Shut up! Or I will kick your *** again.

BOY #1:
Not in front of him. He doesn't need to see that ****. Not now

DEREK:
What are your names?

BOY #1:
That's up to you.

DEREK:
I'll call you Joe, and him Jerry.

JOE:
Works for me, for now. Call us whatever you feel like calling us whenever you like. If you wanna call me ******* and him poophead, go right ahead.

DEREK:
Okay, but for now you guys are Joe and Jerry.

JOE:
We are going to leave now. We will show up when we think the time is right. Sometimes you will see us others you won't, but we are always with you.

JERRY:
Even when you ****.

                                                          ­                                                                 ­                     CUT TO:
7. INT. Apartment 3.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
And then I went back home and they disappeared. I reconciled with my mom and for the next few weeks I didn't see them. Brad started hanging out with me again and school was good. The years go by and still no sight of them. 4 years pass by. It's 1999 and my tastes changed. Instead of Ninja Turtles and Batman it was KISS and Freddy Krueger. By this point me and Josh had made up and Brad was in middle school. And so we go to where me and the voices meet again.

8. INT. Taft Elementary
A class of roughly 25 children in your average 5th grade home room with a stout middle aged gentleman teaching. JOSH and DEREK are in the back row sitting side by side.

TEACHER:
...And that's how the metric system works.

JOSH:
(to Derek)
Dude, did you check out RAW last night? The Undertaker crucified Stone Cold!

DEREK:
**** I missed it. I was doing homework.

JOSH:
(loud)
****!!

TEACHER:
What did you say Mr. Jarvis?

JOSH:
Sorry Mr. Cannib. I forgot to do my homework.

MR. CANNIB:
Josh, Derek, outside!

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
The old man had taken kids out of the classroom before and they always came back with tears in their eyes. As we walked outside I heard a familiar voice.

JERRY:
(OS)
If he touches either of you, kick him in the nuts!

MR. CANNIB:
I told you boys too many times! None of this **** in my classroom! Josh get over here you little *****!

OL' TEACH GRABS JOSH by the NECK.

DEREK:
Hey ******* keep your hands to yourself!

CANNIB begins to throttle JOSH. DEREK pushes him off of JOSH and KICKS the TEACHER in the nuts with FURY about 3 times and jumps on top of him while JOSH watches holding his neck.

JERRY:
(OS) While we see Derek's mouth moving

Look here, *******. You think you can be called a teacher for drinking on a farm, ******* cattle and beating children so you can have Summer vacation every year? *******, you spiteful sad man.

DEREK SPITS in the *******'S face and begins to PUNCH him when JOSH pulls him off.

JOSH:
Dude, the door outta here is right there. Lets go to our lockers, get our **** and get outta here.

DEREK:
(Breathing heavily)
Did I just do that? What the ****? Let's get out of here...now!

                                                    ­                                                                 ­                                           CUT TO:
9. EXT. Taft Elementary
A bunch of playground equipment next to an alley with a fenced in field. JOSH and DEREK are walking down the alley. It is sunny outside but about to rain.

DEREK:
That wasn't me that did that.

JOSH:
If it wasn't you who was it?

DEREK:
It w...

JOSH:
(Interrupting)
It reall
bre Apr 2015
I was only 9 years old.
I pray to Shrek every night, thanking him for the life I’ve been given. “Shrek is love” I say, “Shrek is life."
My dad hears me and calls me a ******. I knew he was just jealous of my devotion
to Shrek. I called him a ****.
He hits me and sends me to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts.
I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm...
It's Shrek! I was so happy.
He whispers in my ear "This is my swamp."
He grabs me with his ogre hands, and puts me on my hands and knees. I'm ready.
I spread my *** cheeks for Shrek.
He penetrates my *******. It hurts so much,
but I do it for Shrek. I can feel my **** tearing and eyes watering.
I want to please Shrek. He roars a mighty roar as he fills my ****
with his love. My dad walks in.
Shrek looks him straight in the eye and says, "It's all ogre now."
Shrek leaves through my window.
Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
Madison Claire Jan 2015
You can make any poem
Sound deep and
meaningful
by putting random
spaces
between
lines.

Like
For example
My ******* is
really itchy
today.
Jake muler Sep 2015
Grades better now at school
Check
Bills payed up
Check
Hair cut fresh check
Clothes washed check
Forgot to get car fixed which leads me to I actually didint do any of this stuff I'm out of luck . this ***** *******
Xoaquín Oznian Feb 2017
Lay down for me baby
Spread your legs
Let me get you off
Let me lick that pretty *****
With my tongue I'll melt all of your worries away
The way my tongue is sliding up and down your slit
I see that it has your body slightly shaking
I'll have you crying rivers of pleasure
Thicker than the ocean that your ***** is about to become
Just let me add a little bit of pressure to your ****
You like the way that feels?
Well I like the way you moan and toss my hair
I slide one of my fingers into your *******
You let out a sudden but **** little gasp
I start ******* your ****, tight little *******
You moan louder as you squeeze my head like a stress ball
As I continue to lick your *****
And that's when you *** so intense, so fast, so hard
All I can do is sit there and stare deep into that pretty crevice between your legs as I bask in the after effects of my work
I then finish the job by softly kissing you along your inner thighs and give you one more deep, wet kiss on your ***** as I close the gap with a trail of kisses across your hips
Chris T Oct 2015
on this october night, while i ponder on the crisp toilet seat
and feel my body shiver from the awful lack of heat,
one single ****, compact and long, from my ******* falls,
and into then rank toilet water it splooshes and splashes.
on the porcelain i clench my feet and moan, it echoes through the halls,
my *******, it burns! (lo, how it burns!) as if a ***** went in full with scratches.
how i pray to God Almighty, "forgive me Lord for I have sinned",
in this ****** place i sit aroused and weary, The light is dimmed,
from the corner of my eye, my end nigh: i sigh, Lord. i sigh!
the toilet paper is gone, i cannot handle the vapor (nor my **** gaper).
By (Edgar Allan Poe) Me!
I was only nine years old, I loved Shrek so much.
I pray to Shrek each night. "Shrek is love" I say, "Shrek is life."
My dad hears me and calls me a ******. I knew he was just jealous of my devotion
to Shrek. I called him a ****.
He hits me and sends me to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts.
I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm...
It's Shrek! I was so happy.
He whispers in my ear "This is my swamp."
He grabs me with his ogre hands, and puts me on my hands and knees. I'm ready.
I spread my *** cheeks for Shrek.
He penetrates my *******. It hurts so much,
but I do it for Shrek. I can feel my **** tearing and eyes watering.
I want to please Shrek. He roars a mighty roar as he fills my ****
with his love. My dad walks in.
Shrek looks him straight in the eye and says, "It's all ogre now."
Shrek leaves through my window.
Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
I push with all my might,
But my *******'s too tight.
I'm up all night,
Trying to conquer this fight.
I keep thinking it's going to be all right,
Stuck in a long plight.
Through my sight,
I see the brown and blue reunite.
Kerplunk.
wrote this while taking a dump.
JoesephStapp Sep 2015
Look at him twitching
You know he's tweaking
His jaw swinging back and forth
But there's no speaking
See's something down
In the carpet twinkling
He gets all excited
You know what he's thinking
Anything he finds
He's going to be smoking
I wouldn't be laughing
Because he ain't joking
Down there for hours
Refusing to fail
Doesn't even slow down
After smoking toenail
Smokes up almost
All that he finds
He hears a noise
Now he's peeking through the blinds
He's been smoking too long
And he's up all night
Doesn't have a job
But that's alright
He's finds a dumpster
And without any warning
He's dives in searching
Til the early morning
That's just the life
Of a tweaker you see
Always out hustling
To get his **** for free
If you see him at night
Approach with caution
He's got a stink about him
Because ain't been washing
Picking at his face
Til his sores are bleeding
A light and a mirror
Is all he's needing
He finally got busted
Now he's on parole
Has to hide his drugs
Up in his *******
It's a shame, but that's the way
A tweaker gets by in the world today
His family don't want him
And he don't have many friends
His life is cut short
And that's how it ends
Everybody knows him
But no one knows his name
They just refer to him
As "That dope smoking Lame"
mike Feb 2013
and my soul fell through the hole in my soul which fell through my *******.
                                                                ­                                  signed:
                       ­                                                                 ­                    -abe da babe linkin.
Francis Nov 2023
What goes in, always,
Comes out,
Through the ******* of life,
Which is **** itself.

Such a waste,
That we are born,
Live,
And die,
Fighting for things,
Money
Materials,
******* things,
That we can’t take with us,
When we die.

What a ******* waste it all is,
Yet somehow,
Everything and everyone is needed,
For the next phase of waste.
**** becomes fertilizer,
We become reborn,
Into whatever else is **** out next.
Philosophically marvelous— just kidding
Aaron LaLux Mar 2019
I’m leaving Neverland,
and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,
but I’m gone,
I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way,

but if I stay I will die,
and I’ll be giving away the precious gift,
of the only thing I actually have,
my life,

because it’s not too late but will be if I wait,
to make all these wrongs right,
and it’s not too late but will be if I wait,
to **** my past and start a new life,

I can’t stay,
and I can no longer deny,
that my Hometown of Hollywood has been corrupted,
they even made the most innocent moments feel tainted,

maybe that’s why I can’t play with a little boy,
without feeling like I’m doing something wrong,
and I haven’t sexually abused a single child in my entire adult life,
so why should I feel confused by what’s going on,

and we all know what’s going on,
we all know They are attracted to the Young and Innocent,
because in the twisted logic of their perverted minds,
they think maybe by being with children they’ll stay Forever Young,

it’s disgusting,
and I’m so ashamed of the city I’m from,
that I’m not even having kids,
because I feel bad for every daughter and son,

and I still love Michael Jackson,
I mean I own a self-portrait painted by him,
it hangs in my hallway I pass it everyday,
as I search for a way to find some separation,

between art and artist,
between who God created,
and what that who God created,
creates from that creation,

trying to make peace with,
the fact that every gifted artist seems to be so twisted,
makes me suspicious,
of every celebrity I know and all their addictions,

because it’s different,
depending what what their addiction is,
I mean a bit of blow is one thing,
but a kids ******* goes beyond addition & becomes a sickness,

and we may never know every secret untold that goes on without witness,

and honestly at this point I don’t even care,
I just want to get the heck outta here,
you know what I mean Billy Jean,
the kid’s not mine but I’m still talking to the Man in The Mirror,

so it’s time to Beat It,
make my escape like a Smooth Criminal,
because I realize now that all those messages,
were more than just subliminal,

and I don’t like The Way You Make Me Feel anymore,
I’m not going to wait ‘Till You Get Enough,
I’m going to find a place where I actually feel appreciated,
because I finally realize that back in Hollywood They Don’t Care About us,

so I’m leaving Neverland,
and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,
but I’m gone,
I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way,

but if I stay I will die,
and I’ll be giving away the precious gift,
of the only thing I actually have,
my life…

∆ LaLux ∆
Hollywood
2019
Waverly Feb 2012
Oh ruinous apple,
the flesh
is too much
and sweet as hell,
sweet as
chicken meat
dripping off the bone
to swim in pureed flesh
on the tongue,
oh ruinous apple,
your stem
is no longer a caterpillar,
there is no tiny butterfly
of a leaf
on your dorsal.

Oh ruinous apple,
you say
"I have grown old
and
hate my skin,"
hoping that it will finally
be shredded
and given
to my belly.

Oh ruinous apple,
you are not so old to me,
you have become
a cougar
in your old age and
the seeds
still make tambourine noises
in your *******.
Mateuš Conrad May 2021
a minor amnesia - nonetheless it happens,
there's another word for it...
skleroza: spontaneous forgetfulness...
this fickle creature that's memory...
thankfully i have a stash of about 5 major memories
that i like to revisit...
play them over and over in my head...
since... i'm not on the crux of death...
well... since i'm not...
i have become more prone to exercise
the freedom of memory than i might want
to watch a movie...
trouble comes when i'm not my own d.j.,
in a car... heading toward... ******* IKEA...
in Enfield... where the phlegmatic crew of
dodo are this close | | to learning the arithmetic
of time...
a song on the radio... Belinda Carlisle...
circle in the sand...
in between talking with my father...
                  nothing metaphorical about that...
- so you know how old bob marley was
when he died? 36...
- you think he would still be touring?
well... he wouldn't need the money...
**** jagger does it for the joy...
          
i can't write narratives...
it's not like we're estranged...
but... it's complicated...
i think this is one area of my life i will keep
off-limits when writing...
i can be as honest about ******
as i can be about horses...
the narrative never took place...
believe me...
we talked about a range of things...
morgage

then when we came home an hour
later than expected...
she (dearest mother)
was probably drinking alone...
throwing little tantrums of me and father
alone time...
well... not to mention he was absent
from the most crucial years of my life...
from 4 till 8...
how does the ugly side of immigration
look like? brain-drain...
we: the diaspora members...
away from the motherland...
for the "better life"...
i too am playing catch-up...
how did ol' Leo frame it?
every happy family is the same...
but every sad family is sad uniquely:
in it's own unique way...

   get Wittgenstein to sort this
tautology... i'm not going to bother...
come to think of it... it's not even
a tautology... a tautology would be more
focused on thesaurus rex...

we had a conversation about football
and music... re-mortgaging...
even Bowie remained true to music...
he probably didn't tour...
but still made new content...
singing about mortality and ****...
i think i'm having this playback moment
in my head...

but then this song came on the radio...
magic fm... belinda carlisle...
circle in the sand...
all of a sudden i had this urge to listen
to a song, that song reminded me off...
oh hell... exactly: what was it?
the search began with: 'the message'...
mc-****-fartery...
      round and round...
jokes aside... i had to listen to belinda's
song on earphones once more
before the "revelation"...

  it seems obvious... "now"...

nik ******* kershaw - the riddle...

exactly... how did i get "the message" wrong?
two strong arms... blessings of Babylon...
blah blah: toe-tying-riddle...
almost like good luck is expected...

come to "think" of it...
a revelation... even though there's that monotheistic
focus on the patriarch...
puppet... strings...
missing *******...
i'm having a hard time not thinking
that ha-shem... the nameless father of hey-zeus
and the ha-ha-mighty blah-lah-al
are not... primarily... feminine gods...
well... conjured up from a ****
rather than a working 'ed...

they're irrational... and can be reduced down
to... the three heads of Cerberus...
they are never really depicted...
worded sleuth pulp fiction harlequin traps...
most artists?
oh **** me... even the ****'ites would agree...
get your eyes to focus on something...
that's how much i dare to admire Islam...
from the ****'ite perspective...

what ******* topic is this?
i was about to pour myself another drink
and this thought like a blitzkrieg came
flushed from a ******* in the universe
where all the gods and nothings
congregate from indigestion and
constipation...
a ******* miracle: a diarrhoea moment...
of sorts...
the monotheistic veneer... of "patriarchy"...

what?! she wants a ring of gold
and my ******* too?
how about a tent's worth of a kippah
on my ******* tonsure?
a man would require a screwdriver...
a hammer... nails... screws...
it would make sense to have many
involved... than this pressure of solipsism...
vampire... succubus... leech...
a ****** hail mary...

**** speak...
                    so great... the technological advances...
atheistic secularism...
but there's a ******* grid-lock to mind too...
no a ****** dam...
a rich cognitive custard...
it's just that: a cognitive custard...
like Moses rekindling a belonging concept
along the lines of being lied to:

monotheism hardly serves man...
i can find appeals to the illusion it presents...
but... hardly...
looks like the "plenty of fish in the sea"
metaphor is drying up the concept
of a "catch"...

the conversation with my father are
off-limits in my purpose of writing in the first
place... unlike a Knausgaard...
i'm the drinker... he's the teetotaller...
he's the workhorse i'm the... chicken-scratcher:
if i had ink...
but i'm also probably ten beaks pecking
resounding at this... grand... oh my god...
******* piano of QWERTY...

genius idea... what?
qwerty... because the orthodox memory erosion
of the alphabet is of any use?
suddenly everything has to **** me off...
it has to be dipped in still water...
it has to be believable...
monotheism is concretely a religion
designated for the preservation of women...
why my *******?
oh... because if you don't have it...
i can... ******* at a leisurely pace?

that a woman can ******* without inhibitions...
while i have to be shamed?
*******, *******...
i don't even have enough slander to express
what my heart reacts to these days...
i don't have "hurt" feels...
i have... agitated feelings...
thank you for waking me up from my numb...
apathy...
but what do i hear? "hurt feels"...
****'s sake... those people don't even recognise
what feeling is supposed to feel like!
they're all french footballers... "hurt" all of a sudden...
wow! so...
"hurt" is translated into the parameters of:
feeling per se?
imagine my shock finding out that
apathy has dulled "i.q." to so little that...
you must be hurt to feel...
you can't be spontaneously agitated...
you must be hurt...

bring out the hot horseshoes...
let's have some fun branding these *******-waggling-
***** aside...

just wait for the breeders to wake up
to having children that turn into freely-arranged
agents of will...
i'm passing through a decade where there's
boasting...
but sooner rather than later...
there will be some hidden mention
of those... pickled-cabbage:
why do the 'indus find pickled cabbage
"funny"?
not eating beef sounds pretty funny...
or like that "proverb" from Morocco:
there's no water, in the desert...
then... what... the... ****... are... you...
"doing" in this, here... land of replenished
roots?!

******* camel jockeys...
what do "they" call them, proper?
sand-*******...
it would take a Bengladesi to get
smart notes on the caste "system"....
Aryan has no origin in Europe...
it probably originated in Indian when
they first came across Persians...
who are... oddly... "pale"...
but have not bartablondine aspects
of their ****** expressions...

ivory skinned like an Iranian or a ***-
without a suntan?
"you" wanted trenches...
here's my designated plot...
"you" wanted ******* to overshadow
real.. culprit-esque concerns...
the jealousy of a woman
knows not bounds...
most especially when a father-son
privacy is engaged with...

   if i ever encountered male jealousy...
it was always rare...
almost never...
         but female jealousy? anything...
everything to belittle the opposing "authority"...
ha-shem... the jealous deity of women...
blah-lah-al of...kept secrets stashed in the niqab...
allure of the ******* eyes...
come on...

****** ******* mary:
that matriarch of sold foetuses and
walking abortions...
at least there was something adventerous
in conceiving the existence of Loki...
of Thor...
there's nothing... original about the point
of monotheistic gods...
that there are three...
is Islam the truest of religions?!
they had a Sunni ****'ite schism... didn't they?
once again:
i want to believe in something:
to give me momentum...
give be a willing acceptance to excuse...
an overarching stressor of incredulity...
and a... "what life"?

well... existence is...
out of every instance: a persistence to:
instance... a persistence...
that's... existence... ex-
out of...
and stance...
dis-ease... a negation of ease...

there will be plenty more of those car
journey listening to magic fm...

an "original": whether mind, or thinker...
that mythology of evil that the Nazis provided...
******* Armani suits and boots...
or whoever designed them... Hugo Boss...
what are we left with,
to mind matters of collectivism?
the evil of censorship instigated by...
halfwits and ******* haemophiliacs?

a myth of evil that could be...
galvanised... momentum and emblem...
what's on offer... currently?
grey-suits and...
expectations: that it's the "21st century"
something magical is about to happen...
what's the difference between the 20th century
and the 18th century?
the 19th century...
so what's the difference between
a pebble, a cliff edge and a mountain?
don't know... a river? a lake?

that same **** different cover excuse
like some wonderful was going to happen
in the 21st century...
like there was a promise...
where is this **** coming from?!
oh yeah... but it's the 21st century...
i was hoping for gravity to ******* and turn all:
short-circuit awry...

i can pretend... for a while...
but after that while passes... i turn into a real mystery
of a door **** gone berserker...
are there these societal expectations
to simply **** **** the next...
blow the next... ******* origami of OXFAM
purple-fest whimpering "dead-doughnut":
although i'd cry... if it was a stray dog
from the streets of Seville...
******* camel-jockeys...

  it's not even a inhibited play on pronouns:
there's no: "they"...
i thought the trans-lobbyist covered the plug-hole
of cognitive-****...
there is not "us" or "them":
gender neutral is me...
armed with a strap-on ***** on my ******* forehead...
a bit like... that hebrew practice of...

so i had me a "friend: a fwend...
maybe that's cornish for something in velsh...
you know how word salad sounds?
on a persistence?
sure... a son of divorce...
what am i? his ******* uncle?
his mother undermined the concept
of al dente spaghetti...
we're talking fractions of people...

people eat ****... leave the universal utility
of pork aside...
mind you: not water in the desert...
and not piggy too...
the leather shoe... the belt...
it's not exactly kosher... is it?
i have this backlog of a peoples...
at least a priest only attracts confessions...
i'm not at knife point
easy... for this triad to work?

if my fwend mentioned cognitive custard...
but the concensus of word salad
is socially broke on the norm...
so blah blah boo'yah assortment...
enriched strawberries...
juicing much later...
i can understand cognitive custard... pie...
but a word salad?
that's.... what doesn't deviate from
solipsism... this solo "project"
of "you and i"...

                       psychiatry is persisting to be
deemed a branch of
the Hippocratic oath....
but it's not...it's pseudo-"medicinal"...
it's hyped-up... idon't remember
that junction in a life...
hardly worth lived... just lived...
of my 20s... what mea culpa stressor of
those psychopaths?
currents under the broken wheel of...
attempts at supressing..
momentum? this whole ******* "flake"
of barrage?

by word salad you're implying i
have, speak... low i.q....
    non-hieroglyphic suede...
non-answerable... past replica...
woe wow salad...
but how i understand it...
a cognitive custard...
well... thinking is messy:
you ******* dim-wits!
        ought-i: thought...
i don't like being ridiculed...
or expected to her a less i.q. than what's...
nuanced at a ****** favouritism... Balkan-esque...
seriously... *******: before i ****** someone...
ugh attached to that: wind... now there's a purpose...

yeah... so what's what?
this is the least of my "concern"?
well... as they say in the west...
as long as the brain-drain happens...
we can forget about keeping the native 9 to 5ams...
sort of... but hardly... justifiably...
less than expectedly...
capitalistically boast: not exhausted...
sort of...

i can understand cognitive custard...
meddle some more...
word salad?
your ******* ****- nig-
of sorts is speaking your language better than me?
******* sour crass of a native's ***!
*******...  and you deserve it.
Nathan A Brock Oct 2022
God, I hate 3am!

You make me late for work and grind my mind into bite sized peanut butter cups.

My thoughts are not a drill,
but they ***** me like Debbie did Dallas.

                     *really? You're doing ****
                  references now? *

*******!
YES, I said **** in a poem!

                  *who are you talking to? *

YOUR MOTHER!!!

always voices at 3am!

Voices like shadows barely perceived on the edge of your ear.

                       *you can't hear shadows *

No one ******* ASKED YOU!


Sleep is a midnight UFO hovering behind an old farmhouse.

You may have seen something... once, but you can't prove it really exists.

Not at 3am when shadows walk like peeping Toms passed your window.

Not at 3am when your eyes are shot and your skull tingles like peppermint body wash on a squeaky clean *******.

What the **** am I saying?

I don't even know anymore.



©Nathan A. Brock 2022
The chill that crawls in the cytoplasm
and
folds in against itself damasked and dynamic
but it wasn't the climate's bite
the pea gravel stone cemented into place
boarding up the fluid monument
poured up and leveled by its creator
but it wasn't the stone
digging into my heel
pressing on the once broken bone
that reminded me that this
THIS
is not the way i ordered my hamburger
and no
it wasn't any thing growing atop
my flimsy wrapping
pale and hairy
and then nothing
inside me and resting
along the walls of my longest tract
digesting my food along side me
even still
more base
it wasn't any amount of matter condensed
shooting
firing between two neurons
reminding me of half truths
or lies
blatant ones
which can careen me back
into places better left forgotten
no
what i felt there
with wet feet and cold quivering hands
was something that
despite what i would love to believe
CANNOT be measured
that which drew me from
every one of the places
that should be connected
but aren't
to a love
manifested as suspicion
that placed both egg and seed
in the same envelope
of
both disgust and admiration
******* Vicky
whoever you are
****
you
and all the cold
******* lice
and the pressure
the memories
they all try to drag me away
to a place where I cant see
what they desperately try to convey
one to another
and
our brilliant star moves from behind
one iridescent pink gossamer puff
sparkling for a moment
back behind another
it's warming
but it doesn't reach back
for your had
no request for your warmth
and yet
every fiber aches
for the moment when you careen
back into it
or when everything you know
is compressed back into it
that
that little moment
where everything and nothing make sense
like two dogs speaking french to each other
as long as they both know how to
howl
not just how to
how is simple.
but when
and why
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
Pantywaist,
This shows no taste.
Light in the loafers,
Maybe for gofers.
Squats to ***,
Who? Not me!
Limp-wristed,
It it’s twisted, maybe.

***** and sissified,
Maybe somebody lied.
*** and ******,
You’re a bigot.
Bigass Fruit,
Zoot and all root.
Tuttifruity,
Call to gay duty.

Half a man,
Sometimes better than.
Tinkerbell,
Go to hell.
Airy-fairy,
You’re just scary.
******* bandit,
I can’t stand it.
*******,
Bigass *******.

Silly queen,
Quit being mean.
Flutter-by,
Can’t pronounce butterfly?
*****,
Don’t get handsy, mate!
Nancy boy.
Political ploy.

Just some of the words
We gays have all heard
With each imprecation
The implication
Is that we are sick,
Definitely twisted,
And the end result
Is that each insult
Pushes the speaker
Further away, and weakens
The hold on a reality
That homosexuality
Is just another normality.
In short, reality.
I'm ******* out rainbows
Isn't everybody aware?
I'm sick of crying tears.
I giggle in happy insanity
Because all these colors I'm making make even hell glow
With happiness
Even the devil is swinging on the dance floor with me
So enjoy my show
as my pants fall down
I'm ******* out rainbows
as I'm sick of dropping with a frown
I'm the new clown
In town
I rock the way to happier times as I change rusty and despairing subjects
A giggle from the loon
in the quiet
shall start a chain of giggles in the city
all of us sharing
this magical moment
we take a dump to relieve ourselves of this sadness ****
I'll tell you something
I feel lighter than air
As I leave a trail of colors
Out of my *******
I'm ******* out true happiness from the end of dark madness
I'm glowing from the relief of heavy burdens of sadness
as I am the new life that was always inside of me...
We are all sisters and brothers...
Let us join in
Pants down
We are much bolder than all those stiff others
Just a great show
Because, now, we are all ******* out rainbows.
Karijinbba May 2019
Ay
Ay ay ay my old forest land
five little brothers blown
Ay ay my baby boy gone
My loving dad's grave lost

Mom lost her mind
sold my half sis for food
as I ran to convent stunned

Ay USA my coco girl's birth
Henrys infertil mistress bailed
his******* dues selling my
baby girl to her!
impostor posing as Mom-me
!in Torrance CA maternity ward
stole my baby photos

Ay daughter keep away from Moureen
he even gave you daughter her ugly name! sold you like a dog is sold
Evil Henry is no father to you
tried vanishing me and
you in my womb using saline but Mom saved herself and you
called police
before and after your birth
we both were attacked
this truth you must know no matter how painful
your Mother loves you this mother is me I love you you are my beloved father David's precious grand child
your maternal grandparents were good people so we're your paternal grandmother Janet but not your paternal father he was evil biggoted racist don't ever be like him.
I love you so miss you daughter mine your father's seed isn't to blame his sister Elizabeth is sociopath sadistic weekly jealous she is like Henry a Charles Manson's advocate almost turned me pregnant into Sharon Tate 1969 butchered by evil crazed men and followers
same bad people in Greece pray on pregnant women and babies they are the **** of this planet.
I wouldn't do a roach what they all put me and my baby's through.
~~~
Ay my Greek born baby girls
medeas tinted your baby milk
with caustic soda yelling at me to hurt me saying it was to open your sink out of jealousy malice and greed
they said you were killers because hers with him wouldn't be born.
~~
Take heed keep away from Greece and them all they are not well in the head they a lack heart brains courage everything I had in excess to fly away and save us all.
~~~~
ay ay our envious foe
enemy so blind a fool
has died seeing us thrive
Ay PTSD ay free me please.

Ay dear poets potessess
thou in thy worst nightmare have it good and better then me and my kin.

Ay ay poisons potions we won!
we emerged immune even to you stronger mightier better
than thee

my enemies all look at us
living in the land of
the free and the brave
healthy loving caring
Ay sad sure! bitter never!

Ay ay USA ay ay Mexico
Hell Greece and Greeks sits more evil
of lower hells bellow thee  
most vicious cruel of all foe.
I changed Earth for the anti-Christ wasn't born instead my Angels
thrive good destroys evil within

Ay Greek **** mythology drown!
drown Join Atlantis Sodomah
Gomorrah into your pits of hell
itself go sink.!
This is a holy mother's plee
supersticious ignorant greece
We have flushed thee down
deep the bottomless pit
with this tini poetic
metaphor I plee to the Universe the spiritual unseen world above and below.
So wise many a poet
and powerful poetessess
family and friends,
please switch vacation trips to elsewhere in the globe
ending touristic revenues to
food poisoning *****
Hell enic poisoner twisted backwards ******'s ******* lenic Greece.
~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All right reserved revived 8-2020
true life story.
Enough shared thanks for reading
Brandon Jun 2011
Locked in the dark room
With a man that talks too much
There’s nothing that wears it off
Laying on the kitchen floor and shower stall
It will all be okay I swear
Just rest your head
Lying on the floor
In so much psychosis pain
Sober whispers and ****** speeches
                She was the one I wanted
                          Tell everybody to go away
                       A good kick in the nuts
                         I don’t care for it
                           One thing will set me off
                   And it’s over for me

Locked in the dark room
Different spectrums to rage
Research what the best solution is
I feel crazy on doctors’ advice
                 Are you flexing now bro?
                           That's so loose *******
                    Camping in an office
                  Blown up on shrooms

Three weeks
D minus B
Old drugs will only get you new diseases
Different opinions always offered on old payments
Dreams so vivid
                               They don’t make no sense
                                 They always make sense

Stay awake
No sleep
Sleep in the dark room
Old folks at an old folks home
A lifetime reminiscing about the comings and goings
Of some forgotten sickness
                    I got the night terrors
******* crazy
Ohio to LA
Some hazy dream of what it’d be like to audition
It’s new crushes on old enemies that tie us together
Minnesota goodbyes
And long drives home.
this is basically the grind version of a 4 hr conversation...
SPT Jun 2014
I scream I ****** cry
You hear me!!
Yeah!! I'm  ****** man
At you!!
Why weren't you here man
I needed you
I was on the ground too
Man lost it
Couldn't do it
I don't wanna do it
**** this ****
**** this life
It ain't right
Every day man every shity day
You know how it goes
Down the bowl
You do it right
Then they let you go
People like us
We can't do **** jobs
Naaa man don't think so
They can kiss my *******
I want to die
But I won't
I'm Too strong
I bounce the **** up
And it's ******* me off
Where are youuuuuuu!!
******* then
Pinche Anthony man
I should have let you get
Empire tatted on your neck
Bad Idea hu
Yeah now I'm watching
Your laugh in slow motion
Hope you get
Ran da car dover
****
Hahaha
**** I want some
French cries with this
****!!!!
******* man
I'm ******
I want to slobber on your shoulder ******!!
Just like you
I remember the way the sunlight danced across your face
In the middle of the afternoon.
I remember lying in bed with you, loud and giggly
Not caring who heard us.
I remember the care-free feeling, doing what we wanted
We loved being alone.


I remember staring into your eyes,
Moments before we would kiss;
My hand wrapped up in your hair, your arm around my waist,
The most amazing feeling in the world.
I remember the softness of your lips,
And the warmth of your tongue;
Smooth, wet, and warm.


I remember those days when we'd d nothing at all
We'd watch, TV talk and eat, but those were the best parts
Of us.
I remember being able to do anything with you,
I even touched your ******* one time
But then I fell off the bed
{Insert laughs here}.


I remember all the good and the bad
And everything in between.
The love {making} and the fighting,
And the "uh okay"'s.
Loving you was tiring.
I remember everything, the feelings, and the words
But I would do it all over again if I could.
I love him.
Arborvitae Oct 2014
Relaxed in a state of absolute calm,
The air of serenity a soothing balm
To ease the imminent struggle ahead
As I sit on my throne of porcelain and shed
The anticipation tugging at my bowels
And out come the mud dogs wearing brown cowls.

Out they come and my tension is released,
In a violent cacophony the silence has ceased!
It has been replaced by a beautiful sound
Like the music of nymphs, with voices all crowned.

The release is a final stinky-sweet ender,
As the *** paper flows my world lights up with splendor!
The sunlight filters through my one bathroom porthole
And the warm rays splay playfully across the hairs of my *******.

This is the moment, ***** all the rest.
Nothing else can compare...a good **** is best.
B Mar 2013
i got pulled over tonight
i wasnt driving
guess the drivers color
race
or origin
and you will win
a free trip to prison
nah, that's not where we went
but it was something they wanted to do
put us behind the bars
they said they saw 3 cars
one was the leader one was middle and one was third
they put on their lights
my stomach chirped like a bird
each one of us out
one by one
first the id's
then out the car
lined up in front of the police car
padded down
searched
you smell like ****
have you been smoking **** today?
yes
i have been smoking **** today
when
silence
and then they move on to other questions
full search
pockets emptied
jacket
pants
inside jacket pocket
both sides
spread em wide
haha
but still i smile
he doesnt know
the truth behind
where it is
or what he smells
it's a smell of smoke
a tease
something that he will never find
no matter how hard he tries
he will never know
that this whole time
it was in my *******
Jake muler Dec 2015
When the world gets more ******* in the *******
Gas prices go down then? It's a catch 22 for real
Ryan Kairis Feb 2017
This one goes out to the ones who know what I mean
The ones who sit on the pooper, let go of nothing but a scream
A holler, a yell, a desperate cry, must be a dream
A **** me, why can’t I, send one floating down the stream
The ones who have seen their self esteem
Boil down to a terrifying extreme
I pooped today, we say
Just kidding, haven’t done so in 3 or 4 days
And we wait and we wait for it to pass past our way
But the train is a freight, blocking our path through the gates
This clogging I have deep inside my *******
Is a constant pain and urge, a persistent struggle
A puzzle really, a puzzle it is to my mind
How much prune juice must I guzzle until I can **** this time?
The toilet paper waits to wipe off my ***
The pebbles and streaks after the log runs
Don’t cover your eyes or ears, ladies, we all know that you do
You can’t hide from the truth, no perfect angel praying in pews
Although the fees of the males will claim they never poo
Everyone knows you all drop some gnarly doo doos
And that, too, some food for thought, to bite off and chew
Swallow your pride, give a big ol’ high five, when you release a number 2
And back to my problems, you know, how I can’t drop a ****?
Paul Revere can even say, this one, he’s already heard
And the hurt that I flirt with, the coming close to victory
All but escapes me, sitting to ****, flowing just a ***
It *****, I will say, I will say that for sure
If I may, I will pay it, I will pay to no longer endure
This feeling inside me, the prolonged clenching of the cheeks
I tell of this issue from a heart wrenching, a remember when we
****
Every day of the week
Robert Guerrero Apr 2014
For a kid with the name Aledro things get difficult
I'm a bully at my high school
I don't play any sports
Even though the coaches want me
I'm 6'3" and 246 lbs
I lift 500lbs with no problem
But instead I pick on kids like grape vines
I don't mean to be mean
I'm just trying to take out my own emotions
Show somebody that I have feelings too
Yet when nobody listens I turn violent
I've gave some kid a wedgey so bad
His ******* ripped
I almost drowned some kid in the toilet
Broke a kids nose
I wish I could take it all back
Tell them I'm sorry
But they ended up killing themselves

17 years old I could go to jail
Honestly I wish the cops would take me now
I'm a murderer not just a bully
I made somebody else's life worst
When I tried making mine better
Guess I'm a failure
Needing more than pills and a counselor
I wonder how long my name will last in these pages
I doubt it everyday a murderer writes his name in here

Not much else to say
I wrote a letter to my mom, my dad, the principle, and the parents
Of all those kids I bullied
The very ones that died
Even wrote letters to all the kids I still bullied
It wasn't long
Just an apology and saying what I've done
Also where they could find my body
When it drifts back to shore
After these pills, this blade, and this gun
Drift me off to that special place in hell
I know the devil kept warm for me
Midnight Apex Aug 2022
The pieces have all fallen down,
I look like a **** foolish clown,

I fell on my ***,
On Cold Winter's grass,
I think I now want to drown.

My eyebrows have started to droop,
A circular life in a hoop.

It's hurting so bad,
Now I'm ******* clad,
I think I just need to ****.
Vince Chul'Theg May 2017
Flood gate motorcade
Spirit sprite's lemonade

Walnut wig
Lipsticked pig

Throw me down a love grenade.

Five foot five
Brown skin live

******* pucker
Real good ******

Kiss my neck we both will thrive.

Hold my hand to cross the street
Me, your mama meet and great

Supply the sticky
Never picky

Poetry makes my man feel neat.

I want to love you all the time
Nose hair, **** cut, I don't mind

Always love me
Always hug me

Get into this heart of mine.

Spring time makes you itchy, sneezy
Wash feet of the hungry, needy

Lifetime bond
Warm palm frond

You said you don't just want, but need me.

Your love for me is unconstricted
Throw out fear, that wolf’s evicted

Be my champion
Handsome companion

Ensure our spirits stay soaring, lifted

><<>> <<><<

Side-note:

(Who taught you to love like this?
Who taught you to love like this?

You  know it’s because you love yourself
in a way that’s ******* rare, right?

This is why you can afford to give this much?
It scares me, but not in the horror movie way.
It scares me, not in the feeding-the-bad-wolf-way.
It scares me because your love is becoming the platform upon
which I am learning to love myself the way I deserve to. My love for myself is catching up with the love you have for me.

How you look into my eyes is indescribable.
I think you see something in here that I don’t. I’m getting there.

This is how you inspire me.
This is why I need you.

This is a race we will both win. We will both win this one.
Hand in hand, marathon ribbon cut sand.)



I'm afraid to say it
I'm afraid to say this

But I think I have to

I more than want you

Circle the block
Drum core, piccolo, fife.

You might just be the love of my life.

Good morning.
I love you.
and Happy Birthday
Sam Temple Sep 2016
inserting the curved blade
right next to the *******
of a downed doe
he made a smooth and easy slit
right to the base of the chest plate
the entire gut pile slid near into his lap /

surely my skin matched the grey eyes of death
as I watched him snip
a long green ******
from a steaming red liver…
the heart was next pulled and gently placed
into a hat holding a giant liver
his eyes twinkled with pride
as he looked up at me /

my first **** was a good one
317 yards
set the crosshairs
right at the backbone
bottom edge of the neck
223 bullet hit the front shoulder
and rolled into the armpit
sent bone fragments shooting
through the lungs and heart…..
I was a murderer /

the hollow carcass matched my heart
as I shouldered the load
and trudged back the 1.2 miles to camp
only stopping twice to re-adjust my doom
the smell of blood
the weight of killing
and a fat alfalfa fed doe
led me to a difficult conclusion /

at 15 I had spent 8 years tagging along to ever trap line
each fishing trip not during class hours
multiple poaching’s
and now my first legitimate ****, solo…
my head spun /

wrapping the body in a mesh bag
and hanging it in a Juniper
I looked up at my shame
and over into my father’s eyes…

it was the last time I killed…
outside of the occasional mosquito
or spider … /
y i k e s Dec 2014
i love you,

my beautiful peach

you are majestic

and brave.

smart

and beautiful

you are stupid,

and nave

and just a bit lame

but you are my peach

and i love you
Francie Lynch Jun 2018
I won't drink your bourbon.

         Well, I won't buy your beer.

I won't ride your Harleys.

         Oh Yeah. Well, our cars don't need your wheels.

Says who?

          Says you.

Did not!

          Did too!

No way, Jose.

          I'm telling.

You're a scaredy-cat.

          I know you are but what am I?

You're a *******.

          I'm rubber and you're glue.

If you love it so much, why don't you marry it.

          It takes one to know one.

Will not!

Will too!!

La la la la la la la. I'm not listening.
Yes, it does sound like school yard taunting and bullying.

— The End —