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"cadbury" poems
Handbag~ 1994 exam timetable £5 from my Mum shiny key for the front door fresh-mint chewing gum Handbag~ 1998 keys for work keys for home £20 and a bit of change photo of my best mate and a bloke that's twice my age lipstick~ lacy knickers condoms~ ID card ticket for a bus to town UV sparkly stars Handbag~ 1999 keys for work keys for home spare key for his flat condoms~ contraceptive pills No.7 powder-ivory/matt VISA/Delta debit card paper gel ink pens number of a bloke who says our love will never end Handbag~ 2000 keys for work keys for home key for the gas meter Teletubbies picture book list of baby-sitters new mobile phone herbal teething gel lipstick~ Anadin vanilla impulse body spray children's Nurofen photo of my baby boy really tiny socks under-eye concealer secret stash of chocs Handbag~ 2002 keys for work keys for home pull-back-and-go car baby wipes mobile phone estate agents' cards picture of my little boy list of things to do Boots own brand pregnancy test both windows coloured blue Handbag~ 2005 keys for home card from work tissue full of tears photo of my boy in school that shows his gappy teeth photo of my baby girl and one of both of them a ring that used to be my Mum's Pro-Plus~ Diazepam Handbag~ 2009 keys for work keys for home one SLIM~FAST bar one Cadbury's wrapper Haribo~ Calpol~ tissues assorted Disney plasters treasured stones~ special shells sand and bits of twig money to buy ice creams photos of my kids
0
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 4:52 PM UTC
Handbag 1994~2009
Black soot Shrivelled up Cadbury wrapper eyes You were not my antidote You turned a balanced happy friendly spice 'n' all things nice girl into a hermit with bloodied fingers, a self-destructive narcissist (or did you just coax her out of her shell) well I quit on you the ****** is the **** spoon your prose the lighter your hips the dealer my heart the coffin. I cried I cry I will cry Over your constellation swamps Housing crocodiles Water-borne diseases and piranhas I am naive; I think my youth protects me. My youth enslaves me. Binds me in paper chains.
0
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
Confrontation
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys. Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there. I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,' as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly, maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ********** that does it. But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him. In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime before dragging him home with you for some nookie, so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace. Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes, but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't. Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age (no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad) I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor orgy-pad and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body; a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean **** What more can you want from a one night stand? After a bit of a damp snog and a good old ***** I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking. He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan, with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved all the way up their sphincter? I know I would. After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times, I felt that kicking out was the name of the game. Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed. It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home, and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside. After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would) and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there, or they may have been where I wiped my fingers after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though. 'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected, as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
A Gay Adventure
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys. Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there. I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,' as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly, maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ********** that does it. But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him. In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime before dragging him home with you for some nookie, so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace. Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes, but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't. Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age (no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad) I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor orgy-pad and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body; a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean **** What more can you want from a one night stand? After a bit of a damp snog and a good old ***** I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking. He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan, with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved all the way up their sphincter? I know I would. After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times, I felt that kicking out was the name of the game. Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed. It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home, and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside. After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would) and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there, or they may have been where I wiped my fingers after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though. 'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected, as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
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35
I'm a Hush marshmallow Silky sunshine yellow far from moony mellow spelling spells of Hello Risisng above the Hill Just behind the mill with much love to spill giving you a thrill from your window sill I'm a  ***** flight of non stop delight Naughty grown up child playing husky wild On a dusky night I'm your cadbury almond joy candy Red soft jelly bean box of A.B.C Caramel nut me I'm all you could think I'll be your everything Just to see you smile Just to hear you sing Rainbows I shall bring You're my cuddly bear full of tender care with a hug to share Tender soft whisper Ripe and pulpy pear You're the one i miss with hot lips to kiss You're a life of bliss Passion flame of hiss Sweet sugary delicous You're my sandwich lunch with that crispy crunch I'm your Cuchi munch You're my fruity punch Handsome Honey Bunch You're my sunshine man Hundred out of ten I'm your sol fun girl a Rich Oyster's pearl I'm your  best pen fan.
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Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 9:45 AM UTC
Sunshine man and Sol fun girl
#*Chocolates have tasted many Dark bitter white Candied and sweet Local And from different parts of the World Loved them all ,when I ate them Yet One, I love the most Is Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Unwrapping the purple-golden wrapper The aroma sweet Melts in the mouth always a lovely treat Sweet memories of childhood it brings many Of sharing the love and care*#
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
Chocolates
Our friends called you a ghost, But you were always a dove to me, Hanging back, voice low, A quiet presence Or unnoticed absence. But then you were that but at my side, Consistently, and often, A warm weight at my elbow Pressed tight on too-small couches Looking at my folded hands At intervals throughout the movie, And my breathing was artifice, Exaggerated, So every intake touched my arm to yours. And I was surprised to hear you laugh When you rarely had before And I could pretend it was me at your side That made it so; I was still young enough to be Distracted by the thought of kissing, And you were so, So distracting.
0
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Cadbury
I remember when I was a little kid Easter used to be a big thing We used to eat our cadbury eggs Paint our boiled eggs the day before And we would go out and hunt Once they had set the day before We used to go to the sunday masses That would teach about Easter And of course Peter Cottontail Would be once again hopping down that bunny trial But somehow it always seemed funny to me Even as a child That somehow a bunny was supposed to lay eggs And somehow little chickens were involved Somehow it had something to do with jesus And that we were supposed to be honoring him By painting easter eggs And opening up our easter egg baskets Now that I am older I don't really celebrate it as much I am caught between the crossroads Of childhood the fun and glee it used to hold And the part of me that thinks about these things way too much
0
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 4:36 AM UTC
Easter
Sometimes I'll hear your footsteps in the empty hallway And your laughter in the vacant living room I'll smell your perfume in the musty closet And feel your wit in the silent dinnertime gloom Sometimes I'll wait for your smile Standing at the gate at 2:45 And wonder what you're doing, how you're feeling, and what you cooked last night So I'll call you up after office hours but there's nothing to say Still, just listening to the silence between us is enough to make my day I'll lament over the memories we can't make and the inside jokes we'll never know The premiers we're missing out on The feelings I'll never show                                                                        I know you're doing your best to protect and shield me always but all I really want is a Cadbury and a protective embrace Because I want to hug you all the time, everyday And not just when we're saying goodbye before you get into your car and drive away Happy Father's Day. © Copyright
0
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
Father's Day
If I had to I would paint him like this; His hair thick streaks, shielding Hidden face, arms placed protectively about a shield of strings, his fingers float out joy. My Boy Lies immersed in his own Invisible sound, Happiness hidden, and found, Underground. Silence Sings Out Loud. I would paint him like this. If I had to I would paint her like this; Her hair tangled in a golden kiss against the mischief of her face, all sorrow erased by half moons of mirth Hands of Nurture placed deep in the Earth. In stability she is free, in life she is re-born, eternally stubborn. I would paint her like this. If I had to I would paint them like this; Colours clashing to complete the cadbury brown of hair, Blue and Red swirling and stairing their way down to Purple. If I were to paint them, I'd create a staple of a third and final canvas. Both Him & Her, Boy and Girl, complete _ _ This is their similarity.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC
Paint With Complete Colours
They told me that I need to let you go No one wants us together -- I think they want you for themselves You are my best friend Since I can remember Life without you Doesn't seem real Rattling in tubes, pressing onto my tongue, melting down my throat Hard, smooth on my fingers, Flecking onto my face while I lick the cold Bins meant for days, I devour in one Bars meant for friends, I do not share I never blamed you when the shakes came & my life fell apart You were my savior -- I thought You took care of me, warmed my heart You and I, never alone No one understands us Some accept us, yet they raise An eyebrow at my appearance I am an anomaly for dating you Your other suitors didn't look so well I pride myself in that Though I hide our happy facade I never thought you'd do this to me I thought you loved me But you love that I love you & you care nothing about my pain Yet -- I can't I can't let you go I love you too much Every day I try but you are so close You are right there You ask me to love you and I cave In a false security, a black hole I know I will suffer from In only mere minutes Our time together is too magical to give up But only a matter of time until I -- No, I cannot dream of it You will treat me right one day & we will be happy together
0
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Mr. Cadbury
As he sat at the table , eating his fish A warm fire burned nearby. She sat on the sofa somewhere nearby wondering if all she could do was cry. As the nostalgic feeling came and went, she remembered the days they used to spend, He would let her climb on his back, and they would walk here, there and that. She remembered the way they used to be, He was her all, her meant to be. What hurt her now more than before was the way he saw her , loving her no more. It is true, she say, I messed up but is forgiveness never enough? And So as she lie here in the arms of an angel to keep her safe and warm, She cried once more and took a bite of a sweet sweet Cadbury chocolate and stared into the night........
0
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
Cadbury street
Just like the recent change of the emerald favorite to the bitter taste of coffee, the battering gale force winds hammering on the door, as it screeches to be let in, as it wails of its sorrow. Reminiscent of the innate excitement of the jiggle of bells, and half eaten carrots and an emptied glass of whiskey the passing of casserole dishes full to the brim to borrow. Knocks on the door loud and swift kettle boiling and the offering of chocolate sweets all wrapped up in their shiny rainbow wrappings, Nothing but good wishes and hope for the New Year. But, what of last years resolutions? The faded floral wallpaper  is still peeling, and cuts that wounded just down to the marrow have not healed. A ****** bandaged seeping fear. Change you arrive when planned or as unexpected as the snow in Summer. You tap on our windows,or you blast through the panes like dynamite Exploding.Damaging. Injuring. In a split second you find yourself cracking open a rounded blue tin to discover a surprise,a green coffee sweet for better or for worse  in this small little ways the world changing. Changing.
0
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Cadbury's Roses
I always told my friends to think of words as chocolate When someone writes beautiful things It's Galaxy, it's Cadbury's to me You hold them on your tongue and you savour You want more, it's sheer gluttony, But people applaud you for that, You don't get fat on words, People won't judge you when you sneak downstairs late at night for a midnight snack of words. You're still a size 12 when you've overdone it on the words. And poetry? Well that's the best chocolate there is.
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Literary Confectionary
BuzzFeed, Twitter, Facebook, & Hello Poetry Hockey games, Cross Country stats, & Big Gulps 45 computer screens, 8 light fixtures, Google Earth, & stock board Squeaking and stomping, should I close the door? Hard to hear what's under the mustache from back here Candy, gold fish, green tea, raisins, ****** pretzels, & I should've brought a Cadbury creme egg There's a ******* screen in front of my face... Lots of scrolling, so distracting That knuckle crack was really loud, oops. He says be realistic aka don't think you'll get your dream Oh yes, I will -- I laugh inside I'm not like you. My nail biting is loud and it's gotten bad this semester So bad that teachers think I'm raising my hand to speak I shake my head, no, rosy cheeks, hot face, let me just eat my nails please. I don't know what I'd do without my parents because they know everything about surviving... & Tumblr too Why are you putting your footprint on a school computer? I remember when we wanted to live in this area because we loved our families so much -- sacrifice for school systems, families, and safety blankets The skin on my nose, it burns from tissue overdose Thank god for Vaseline - feels good on the surface What's it like to have a student loan? What the hell are these yellow stains on my sweatshirt -- looks like pollen My house is for sale "You tell me life isn't that hard" "Will you stand above me? Look my way, never love me?"
0
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
Personal Finance Is 2.5 Hours Long
I love my morning coffee, It is hot and strong, Like a firm handshake or a warm hug first thing in the morning, It gives me the masculine strength to start the day and venture into the life of a parent raising a son. The aroma is familiar and friendly, One that takes me back to my days at university – the first round I mean. When time was flexible, and it was ok to live on porridge and rice for five days, and then smoked salmon and cadbury’s chocolate on when I got paid, because there was always someone to buy the next beer. In that four bedroom shared house, with guests every night, I drank my coffee black, because the milk was always out. Come to think of it, the toilet paper was often out too… so I kept a secret stash. These days, I add a dollop of thick cream to my coffee in the morning for richness and indulgence, It whisks me off to a place of my dreams – Pari Where I imagine myself in flowing skirts, and bright red lipstick As I laugh loudly to jokes spoken in beautiful **** French by tall handsome men, Here I can speak French, laugh in French, make love in French and I am honoured as the beautiful Aussie goddess I am. I’m not sure where said 8 year old is whilst I am in France … I guess he is there riding his bike with the locals and whatever 8 year olds do… but he is not sipping my coffee. I drink my morning coffee from a great big mug with painted dragon flys on it, The dragon flys reminds me, everyday is new beginnings, A chance to transform what was before, To sore high and far, And that nothing is ever stuck in one place. As I towards the end of my cup, I swirl the coffee and the cream back together, The temperature has dropped, The taste is not as strong, But the impact on my day is for ever, as I return to my place and my life to hear the words ‘mum, what’s for breakfast’. I love my morning coffee.
0
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
I love my morning coffee
I love my morning coffee, It is hot and strong, Like a firm handshake or a warm hug first thing in the morning, It gives me the masculine strength to start the day and venture into the life of a parent raising a son. The aroma is familiar and friendly, One that takes me back to my days at university – the first round I mean. When time was flexible, and it was ok to live on porridge and rice for five days, and then smoked salmon and cadbury’s chocolate on when I got paid, because there was always someone to buy the next beer. In that four bedroom shared house, with guests every night, I drank my coffee black, because the milk was always out. Come to think of it, the toilet paper was often out too… so I kept a secret stash. These days, I add a dollop of thick cream to my coffee in the morning for richness and indulgence, It whisks me off to a place of my dreams – Pari Where I imagine myself in flowing skirts, and bright red lipstick As I laugh loudly to jokes spoken in beautiful **** French by tall handsome men, Here I can speak French, laugh in French, make love in French and I am honoured as the beautiful Aussie goddess I am. I’m not sure where said 8 year old is whilst I am in France … I guess he is there riding his bike with the locals and whatever 8 year olds do… but he is not sipping my coffee. I drink my morning coffee from a great big mug with painted dragon flys on it, The dragon flys reminds me, everyday is new beginnings, A chance to transform what was before, To sore high and far, And that nothing is ever stuck in one place. As I towards the end of my cup, I swirl the coffee and the cream back together, The temperature has dropped, The taste is not as strong, But the impact on my day is for ever, as I return to my place and my life to hear the words ‘mum, what’s for breakfast’. I love my morning coffee.
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25
You were so fine, the way your lips intertwined with mine, so genuine, it was indeed unadulterated bliss. I wish I could taste your beautiful kisses again. For they were purer than the freshest lemonade, more intoxicating than applejack moonshine, sweeter than a Cadbury chocolate fish. I need... uhhhh, I want to kiss you badly.
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
I Wish For Your Beautiful Kisses Baby
I saw your heart before I knew its colour. You remind me of Cadbury's dark chocolate The one that always calls out to customers Even when they pretend it's not there. Brown eyes..the colour of brown sand Dark yet soft, closed yet looking at me Sleepy circles of brown. Your eyes called out to me And like one in love with chocolates I answered. Now brown is my favourite colour.
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
Brown Eyes
Sat in the flat On the door I heard a tap Cadbury chocolate appears It must be thursday Andrew's here....... Thinking what to do I thought I'd show him a poem or two Looking aound The poems we found We had a look but they were not in a book On line they were The words on the screen were there Maggie said Lets make a rhyme Andrew answered Yes that will be fine Some words from you A few bits from me Now it is time For a cup of tea
0
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 8:58 AM UTC
chocolate buddies
Eating Cadbury's chocolate handed to you by sultry Amazons as you float gently down the river Seine in Paris while accompanying Frenchmen in berets gently play their harmonium thingy as the younger Brigitte Bardot lets her blond hair tumble gently over your face as she softly hums in your ear songs by Smokey Robinson, & meanwhile Hendrix's long sweet jam Voodoo Chile blasts from enormous banks of speakers being towed alongside by Viking longboats crewed by Republican politicians & overseen by the ladies of ***** riot now free from the prison cells of Siberia, as Tommy Cooper performs magic tricks & near extinct animals, birds & insects mate freely among floating clouds of vapoury spring dew, while deliciously gorgeous Thai ladyboys slowly peel grapes for me before setting off in a fluttering cloud to use their wiles & charms on Republican conventioneers, as you relax & smoke ***** & share a hot-tub with God. Joy.
0
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC
Joy ...
Title : i don't love you, I LOVE YOU! Poet : Phyll Genre : Love/Confession/ Dedication/True-Love Year : 2018 P/Sw No. : Unlimited Edition I don't love you,I LOVE YOU! As Authored By Phyll Triciah Babe, Sorry but i can't do this any longer. I can't live with this guilt inside me, So today i choose to confess to you, Hope you'll find it easy in your heart to forgive me for having lied to you all this while. It's today i choose to tell you that; I don't love you! All this while, I've lived to think that i loved you. But with what you've shown me, I just can't continue to love you You don't deserve to settle for less, For you are an angel. And angels like you, Don't deserve to be half loved. Please, Forgive me for what am about to tell you next, I just can't hide it any more, And since you're far I'll text. How i hope you'll not judge, For you are my choco fudge. Just so you know, I can feel it deep inside my heart, It's so huge and real. I think the cage in my heart isn't big enough to accommodate it, But some I'll paste into actions, So that none goes to waste and am sure you'll love the taste. Sorry for loving you, Which was half love for sure, Like the size of a calf. But Instead, I should have LOVED you, Which is so full, But i was a fool. And so from today; My moonlight in the dark you'll be. It's no longer a secret, Cause i want to say; I LOVE YOU Triciah. Much more than a love song, You are the lace that ties me, For am the shoe. Without your heart my love, I'm nothing much more than a sad song. I see a brighter future for us, projected deep in your eyes, whenever i look into your eyes, Come on now and follow my lead, And let's cover our love with a lid, And save it for our future kid. Any girl like you deserves a gentle man. So be my Queen, But sorry, I won't be your King, But your servants for life, I wish to be, For i want to always do you right, Just for our love to remain tight, And cuddle every night, After a pillow fight. Triciah my love, I can't deny the fact that, You're more than a dream come true, For i never thought I'd be right for you, But you've proven that together we can fly high than a kite, And see our haters in the size of a mite. Without you babe, I Phyll feel broke. No doubt that I'm half, Cause I'm incomplete without you. But with you sweetie, I'm fully whole, Much more than the whole milk. Full without even a single hole, For haters to plunge a pole. Without you my Cadbury, I'm torn, And aggressive than the storm. I just can't compare you, Not to anything in this world. You are priceless sweetheart, Not even diamond nor gold, Can compare, To how worthy you really are. I have a wish to make; I want to wake up every morning to your sweet face my Queen. So please, Be my better half, And forever you I'll have, Always by my side, For i want you, And only you Triciah. Mob love baby love ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHT BY PHYLL DEDICATED TO MS.PHYLL [email protected] +254704183858 (C)2018.
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:44 AM UTC
i don't love you;I LOVE YOU
Title : i don't love you, I LOVE YOU! Poet : Phyll Genre : Love/Confession/ Dedication/True-Love Year : 2018 P/Sw No. : Unlimited Edition I don't love you,I LOVE YOU! As Authored By Phyll Triciah Babe, Sorry but i can't do this any longer. I can't live with this guilt inside me, So today i choose to confess to you, Hope you'll find it easy in your heart to forgive me for having lied to you all this while. It's today i choose to tell you that; I don't love you! All this while, I've lived to think that i loved you. But with what you've shown me, I just can't continue to love you You don't deserve to settle for less, For you are an angel. And angels like you, Don't deserve to be half loved. Please, Forgive me for what am about to tell you next, I just can't hide it any more, And since you're far I'll text. How i hope you'll not judge, For you are my choco fudge. Just so you know, I can feel it deep inside my heart, It's so huge and real. I think the cage in my heart isn't big enough to accommodate it, But some I'll paste into actions, So that none goes to waste and am sure you'll love the taste. Sorry for loving you, Which was half love for sure, Like the size of a calf. But Instead, I should have LOVED you, Which is so full, But i was a fool. And so from today; My moonlight in the dark you'll be. It's no longer a secret, Cause i want to say; I LOVE YOU Triciah. Much more than a love song, You are the lace that ties me, For am the shoe. Without your heart my love, I'm nothing much more than a sad song. I see a brighter future for us, projected deep in your eyes, whenever i look into your eyes, Come on now and follow my lead, And let's cover our love with a lid, And save it for our future kid. Any girl like you deserves a gentle man. So be my Queen, But sorry, I won't be your King, But your servants for life, I wish to be, For i want to always do you right, Just for our love to remain tight, And cuddle every night, After a pillow fight. Triciah my love, I can't deny the fact that, You're more than a dream come true, For i never thought I'd be right for you, But you've proven that together we can fly high than a kite, And see our haters in the size of a mite. Without you babe, I Phyll feel broke. No doubt that I'm half, Cause I'm incomplete without you. But with you sweetie, I'm fully whole, Much more than the whole milk. Full without even a single hole, For haters to plunge a pole. Without you my Cadbury, I'm torn, And aggressive than the storm. I just can't compare you, Not to anything in this world. You are priceless sweetheart, Not even diamond nor gold, Can compare, To how worthy you really are. I have a wish to make; I want to wake up every morning to your sweet face my Queen. So please, Be my better half, And forever you I'll have, Always by my side, For i want you, And only you Triciah. Mob love baby love ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHT BY PHYLL DEDICATED TO MS.PHYLL [email protected] +254704183858 (C)2018.
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107
the european concern, these days, is to utilise words: without an allahu akbar conviction... how certain is this: hollowing-out of language... before a meaning of life is attested, it's the truancy of meaning in language that's worth being investigated... how pulverising is this: hollowing out of words... and whichever word might denote ethnic antagonism: i utilise as shallow ventures, drowning face-down in a puddle... that's not me: about to start a ku klux manifesto... these days it's really about excuses... how best to excuse oneself from the fact that: we think we're living in a village (given the internet), but in fact: this metropolis, gargantuan, is choking us... on the daily basis of being congested, constipated: in a commute. me? sometimes itchy for a verbal-diarrhoea. it was an experimental procedure....             in south wales, Glasbury, i was the sole white boy    sitting with the Cadbury crew... subsequent reasoning follows:         what are the boundaries of language, and what's the standard etiquette?    a reaction, i guess:    people at s.o.a.s. saying you shouldn't read Kant.             **and if language can't cushion violence... if language can't cushion violence...**   and if language is subjected to the many internet little hitlers and snowflakes...              i might just be sued for copyright infringements when i use any word of my liking... sooner or later it'll all look a bit like:   the A to Z... with © before every word.                language is supposed to cushion violence...         if this motto is disavowed...              alt-right neo-con                   and when my ethnicity was compared to rats...                                 i'd like to hear jazz from auschwitz... or the blues...                      or rap, for that matter...   are cruel as it sounds, there was no extermination      procedure with the blacks in america... someone evidently spoke of basketball breakdance  and all that african cool...                        now we can say: african-american,              shame we can't say mohawk the same way... culinary problems...         the reds didn't use enough spices          and craft the taj mahal broth...                    and if my ancestors were a bunch of *************                  no wonder news outlets speak of   premature depression among the post-colonial      children of this hue.
0
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
concerning racism (verbal-diarrhoea)
the european concern, these days, is to utilise words: without an allahu akbar conviction... how certain is this: hollowing-out of language... before a meaning of life is attested, it's the truancy of meaning in language that's worth being investigated... how pulverising is this: hollowing out of words... and whichever word might denote ethnic antagonism: i utilise as shallow ventures, drowning face-down in a puddle... that's not me: about to start a ku klux manifesto... these days it's really about excuses... how best to excuse oneself from the fact that: we think we're living in a village (given the internet), but in fact: this metropolis, gargantuan, is choking us... on the daily basis of being congested, constipated: in a commute. me? sometimes itchy for a verbal-diarrhoea. it was an experimental procedure....             in south wales, Glasbury, i was the sole white boy    sitting with the Cadbury crew... subsequent reasoning follows:         what are the boundaries of language, and what's the standard etiquette?    a reaction, i guess:    people at s.o.a.s. saying you shouldn't read Kant.             **and if language can't cushion violence... if language can't cushion violence...**   and if language is subjected to the many internet little hitlers and snowflakes...              i might just be sued for copyright infringements when i use any word of my liking... sooner or later it'll all look a bit like:   the A to Z... with © before every word.                language is supposed to cushion violence...         if this motto is disavowed...              alt-right neo-con                   and when my ethnicity was compared to rats...                                 i'd like to hear jazz from auschwitz... or the blues...                      or rap, for that matter...   are cruel as it sounds, there was no extermination      procedure with the blacks in america... someone evidently spoke of basketball breakdance  and all that african cool...                        now we can say: african-american,              shame we can't say mohawk the same way... culinary problems...         the reds didn't use enough spices          and craft the taj mahal broth...                    and if my ancestors were a bunch of *************                  no wonder news outlets speak of   premature depression among the post-colonial      children of this hue.
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My Pantry I panicked in the storm, afraid nothing to bargain or trade sustenance or reprieve bewildered and bereaved to acquire or do without I walked for miles in doubt through the tempestuous skies I looked at the field behind my eyes I circled around and found my pantry still abound the sheesham shelves were old the walls covered in mold a smiling monsoon coconut ladoos likened to the moon stolen biscuit jars they’d travelled from afar half eaten cadbury’s bars reminiscent of sibling wars jars of kindness marmalade bitter and timeless   pickles of surprise cakes made of rice curiosity in spice caddies an old healer of maladies my fears left me to wander my will now fed and stronger I had no reason to despair my pantry overflowing, I had so much to share
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Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
My Pantry
Mr Cadbury (Hershey's) Left me wanting more But they did not have my size
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Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 4:30 AM UTC
Beware of Christmas (haiku)
overground ticket office closures - 30.09.18 welcome to draconian just like poetry and criticism jump barrier at the road caledonian no staff on shop floor or camera crew doing voyeurism. don't be fooled cuts will travel benefit vigilantes are getting up tooled taking full advantage of deficit. beggars and scammers are like cadbury they are a good receiver going to waterloo to direct to canonbury poetry not going well with arriva. 51 stations are to be closed not going to dent or groove barnsbury is next to be exposed for benefit to no paying customers it will improve. RMT not wanting to slash they no ticket officers play a crucial role begging sadiq khan is **** cash we need a human not a machine with no sole. welcoming to the best ever city machines are on and automatic back to humans queen did sing with no pity ahead of times proves so graphic. will share my views travelwatch get poetry online i will be first to break the news ticket office closures is transportation decline.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 9:10 AM UTC
overground ticket office closures