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"chee" poems
Merrily swinging on briar and **** Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders, and white his crest, Hear him call in his merry note, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Look what a nice, new coat is mine; Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Brood, kind creature, you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, chee. Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note; Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Never was I afraid of man, Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. Chee, chee, chee. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight: There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care, Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nobody knows but my mate and I, Where our nest and our nestlings lie, Chee, chee, chee. Summer wanes; the children are grown; Fun and frolic no more he knows, Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum drone; Off he flies, and we sing as he goes, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again. Chee, chee, chee.
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Robert Of Lincoln
Merrily swinging on briar and **** Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders, and white his crest, Hear him call in his merry note, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Look what a nice, new coat is mine; Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Brood, kind creature, you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, chee. Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note; Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Never was I afraid of man, Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. Chee, chee, chee. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight: There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care, Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nobody knows but my mate and I, Where our nest and our nestlings lie, Chee, chee, chee. Summer wanes; the children are grown; Fun and frolic no more he knows, Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum drone; Off he flies, and we sing as he goes, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again. Chee, chee, chee.
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72
Breaking the hush of the summer day Chee-keeee trills the bird as it waits for prey Catches one swallows skyward easy Then for the next gets ready. You love its intent solemn eyes The brown neck and the blue shine Its impassive posture that’s only a disguise To pounce on the prey and merrily dine. It perches on the lightest twig A dreamer and a hunter in one rolled Scanning the water for a large swig Big enough for its beak to hold. Sometimes the wait may be long You imagine his eyes in sleep droop Then in a flash proving you wrong The blue streak would on the catch swoop. Rain brings it an ecstatic thrill It loves to be drenched in the showers To reap the harvest of a daylong meal Never tired of long hunting hours. If it ever god forbid so happens You don’t see anymore this creature Know streams have dried up there’re no rains And with them has vanished Kingfisher!
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 7:55 AM UTC
Kingfisher
I On a little piece of wood, Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood; Mrs. Sparrow sate close by, A-making of an insect pie, For her little children five, In the nest and all alive, Singing with a cheerful smile To amuse them all the while, Twikky wikky wikky wee, Wikky bikky twikky tee, Spikky bikky bee! II Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said, 'Spikky, Darling! in my head 'Many thoughts of trouble come, 'Like to flies upon a plum! 'All last night, among the trees, 'I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze; 'And, thought I, it's come to that 'Because he does not wear a hat! 'Chippy wippy sikky tee! 'Bikky wikky tikky mee! 'Spikky chippy wee! III 'Not that you are growing old, 'But the nights are growing cold. 'No one stays out all night long 'Without a hat: I'm sure it's wrong!' Mr. Spikky said 'How kind, 'Dear! you are, to speak your mind! 'All your life I wish you luck! 'You are! you are! a lovely duck! 'Witchy witchy witchy wee! 'Twitchy witchy witchy bee! Tikky tikky tee! IV 'I was also sad, and thinking, 'When one day I saw you winking, 'And I heard you sniffle-snuffle, 'And I saw your feathers ruffle; 'To myself I sadly said, 'She's neuralgia in her head! 'That dear head has nothing on it! 'Ought she not to wear a bonnet? 'Witchy kitchy kitchy wee? 'Spikky wikky mikky bee? 'Chippy wippy chee? V 'Let us both fly up to town! 'There I'll buy you such a gown! 'Which, completely in the fashion, 'You shall tie a sky-blue sash on. 'And a pair of slippers neat, 'To fit your darling little feet, 'So that you will look and feel, 'Quite galloobious and genteel! 'Jikky wikky bikky see, 'Chicky bikky wikky bee, 'Twikky witchy wee!' VI So they both to London went, Alighting on the Monument, Whence they flew down swiftly--pop, Into Moses' wholesale shop; There they bought a hat and bonnet, And a gown with spots upon it, A satin sash of Cloxam blue, And a pair of slippers too. Zikky wikky mikky bee, Witchy witchy mitchy kee, Sikky tikky wee. VII Then when so completely drest, Back they flew and reached their nest. Their children cried, 'O Ma and Pa! 'How truly beautiful you are!' Said they, 'We trust that cold or pain 'We shall never feel again! 'While, perched on tree, or house, or steeple, 'We now shall look like other people. 'Witchy witchy witchy wee, 'Twikky mikky bikky bee, Zikky sikky tee.'
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Mr. And Mrs. Spikky Sparrow
I On a little piece of wood, Mr. Spikky Sparrow stood; Mrs. Sparrow sate close by, A-making of an insect pie, For her little children five, In the nest and all alive, Singing with a cheerful smile To amuse them all the while, Twikky wikky wikky wee, Wikky bikky twikky tee, Spikky bikky bee! II Mrs. Spikky Sparrow said, 'Spikky, Darling! in my head 'Many thoughts of trouble come, 'Like to flies upon a plum! 'All last night, among the trees, 'I heard you cough, I heard you sneeze; 'And, thought I, it's come to that 'Because he does not wear a hat! 'Chippy wippy sikky tee! 'Bikky wikky tikky mee! 'Spikky chippy wee! III 'Not that you are growing old, 'But the nights are growing cold. 'No one stays out all night long 'Without a hat: I'm sure it's wrong!' Mr. Spikky said 'How kind, 'Dear! you are, to speak your mind! 'All your life I wish you luck! 'You are! you are! a lovely duck! 'Witchy witchy witchy wee! 'Twitchy witchy witchy bee! Tikky tikky tee! IV 'I was also sad, and thinking, 'When one day I saw you winking, 'And I heard you sniffle-snuffle, 'And I saw your feathers ruffle; 'To myself I sadly said, 'She's neuralgia in her head! 'That dear head has nothing on it! 'Ought she not to wear a bonnet? 'Witchy kitchy kitchy wee? 'Spikky wikky mikky bee? 'Chippy wippy chee? V 'Let us both fly up to town! 'There I'll buy you such a gown! 'Which, completely in the fashion, 'You shall tie a sky-blue sash on. 'And a pair of slippers neat, 'To fit your darling little feet, 'So that you will look and feel, 'Quite galloobious and genteel! 'Jikky wikky bikky see, 'Chicky bikky wikky bee, 'Twikky witchy wee!' VI So they both to London went, Alighting on the Monument, Whence they flew down swiftly--pop, Into Moses' wholesale shop; There they bought a hat and bonnet, And a gown with spots upon it, A satin sash of Cloxam blue, And a pair of slippers too. Zikky wikky mikky bee, Witchy witchy mitchy kee, Sikky tikky wee. VII Then when so completely drest, Back they flew and reached their nest. Their children cried, 'O Ma and Pa! 'How truly beautiful you are!' Said they, 'We trust that cold or pain 'We shall never feel again! 'While, perched on tree, or house, or steeple, 'We now shall look like other people. 'Witchy witchy witchy wee, 'Twikky mikky bikky bee, Zikky sikky tee.'
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84
Walkin' thru the grocery store section, To that aisle, yeah, it's not just con-cession... Turn every crunch into Hea-ven, -yeah (Oh, you are...) Crun-chee on the coldest day Taste buds explode, every, 'kind-of-way' Make me wanna savor every moment of cheese-y, slow-ly You pleasure me, my taste, taste buds, you put it on! Got the taste-y, know how to turn it on... The way I nibble on a pair, a clutch of fried corn, not an ear... I take it easy, baby, so we can last long! Oh! you, you feel crunchy 'in-my-mouth,' salivated, not full... Mouth like tasting, like an, an amazing plan Feel your taste, my mouth a pulse-Oh! Oh, yeah -Ya, ya me in store aisle, so nor-mal Tostitos and Doritos, I say No Mas! And so, no chip will, will replace you! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Please respect, it's just Cheetos, No, no, I don't want no Doritos! No matter what you ask it's not Dorit-o-os! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Nothing taste quite like Cheetos, No Tostitos, no Doritos, nor a burrito. I sound Spanish or Latin when I end words in a -oh, Oh, OH YEAH, Oh-o... When I end my words in 'O' Sounds like I know Something like, I'm not loco? Cheetos brands, -favoritos (Favorito, favorito, ba-by) Morning I don't like to 'Eat-oh' Breakfast, eggs or -gritos Instead I woof, -the Cheetos! And know I voted, twice for Obam-ma, Didn't even have, -American Mom-ma! Car tires, Yoko-hama... Back to my Latin voice, now, Oh-o... You say to get that face and taste -eh he bang-bang You say why doesn't it explodo like me mi bang-bang? For me those chips you know there is no other No question, fill your mouth, tongue, smother Yo no other makes me sing it so suave Impressive crunchy, disputes 'saliv-eh' Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh? No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah! Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos, No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos You want friends you better break out cheesus There's no other way now to please us! Oye! crunch Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! When I end my words in 'O' Sounds like I know I know... Something like, I'm not TA-CO? Cheetos brands, -'favor-AH-ri-tos' (Favorito, favorito, ba-by) Morning I don't like to eat no Breakfast, eggs or -gritos Instead I woof, -some Cheetos! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! This is how we do it up in Long Island,  boroughs, No tacos, burritos and no churros all we ever want is those Cheetos! Ay-o no burrito Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh? No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah! Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos, No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos You want friends you better break out cheesus There's no other way now to please us! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC
Des Puh -CHEETOS(remɪx)
Walkin' thru the grocery store section, To that aisle, yeah, it's not just con-cession... Turn every crunch into Hea-ven, -yeah (Oh, you are...) Crun-chee on the coldest day Taste buds explode, every, 'kind-of-way' Make me wanna savor every moment of cheese-y, slow-ly You pleasure me, my taste, taste buds, you put it on! Got the taste-y, know how to turn it on... The way I nibble on a pair, a clutch of fried corn, not an ear... I take it easy, baby, so we can last long! Oh! you, you feel crunchy 'in-my-mouth,' salivated, not full... Mouth like tasting, like an, an amazing plan Feel your taste, my mouth a pulse-Oh! Oh, yeah -Ya, ya me in store aisle, so nor-mal Tostitos and Doritos, I say No Mas! And so, no chip will, will replace you! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Please respect, it's just Cheetos, No, no, I don't want no Doritos! No matter what you ask it's not Dorit-o-os! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Nothing taste quite like Cheetos, No Tostitos, no Doritos, nor a burrito. I sound Spanish or Latin when I end words in a -oh, Oh, OH YEAH, Oh-o... When I end my words in 'O' Sounds like I know Something like, I'm not loco? Cheetos brands, -favoritos (Favorito, favorito, ba-by) Morning I don't like to 'Eat-oh' Breakfast, eggs or -gritos Instead I woof, -the Cheetos! And know I voted, twice for Obam-ma, Didn't even have, -American Mom-ma! Car tires, Yoko-hama... Back to my Latin voice, now, Oh-o... You say to get that face and taste -eh he bang-bang You say why doesn't it explodo like me mi bang-bang? For me those chips you know there is no other No question, fill your mouth, tongue, smother Yo no other makes me sing it so suave Impressive crunchy, disputes 'saliv-eh' Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh? No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah! Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos, No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos You want friends you better break out cheesus There's no other way now to please us! Oye! crunch Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! When I end my words in 'O' Sounds like I know I know... Something like, I'm not TA-CO? Cheetos brands, -'favor-AH-ri-tos' (Favorito, favorito, ba-by) Morning I don't like to eat no Breakfast, eggs or -gritos Instead I woof, -some Cheetos! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! This is how we do it up in Long Island,  boroughs, No tacos, burritos and no churros all we ever want is those Cheetos! Ay-o no burrito Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh? No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah! Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos, No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos You want friends you better break out cheesus There's no other way now to please us! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS! Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
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83
Crickets sing midnight songs With melody of "Chee-cee, Chee-cee, Chee-cee." The rain drops Slide off leaves Above and Splat With rhythm of Plot plot, Plot plot. The gravel recites A raspy verse With a crinkle crunch, Crinkle crunch Under my step. I think I am alone, But for these Soft voices singing Sorrowful lullabies As I walk the long path To dawn.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
Midnight Songs, A Poem About Solitude
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC Dear mother My guardian angel and protector Am afraid to tell you He was staring at me When i went to the loo His cold gaze pierced my back And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book From head to toe i was studied I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me To him i was a piece of an apple pie I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips Lust was painted all over his mane covered face Mom i was really scared I regretted stepping in that club When i returned to my seat he bought me beer My liqour thirst was hard to bear I betrayed my masculinity And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity My mind was having a cold war with my soul Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body Where did i stand??? He welcomed himself in my table With a gecko like grin etched on his face "You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs He winked as his blinking broke the speed record I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn He thought his tactics had worked I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast He hastefully followed suit "Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer "Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull I heard a deafening yell The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car So dear mom its not my fault am in jail Am here because i fought Mom am not a law breaker Am here because i am homophobic
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
Mom IAM HOMOPHOBIC
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC Dear mother My guardian angel and protector Am afraid to tell you He was staring at me When i went to the loo His cold gaze pierced my back And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book From head to toe i was studied I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me To him i was a piece of an apple pie I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips Lust was painted all over his mane covered face Mom i was really scared I regretted stepping in that club When i returned to my seat he bought me beer My liqour thirst was hard to bear I betrayed my masculinity And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity My mind was having a cold war with my soul Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body Where did i stand??? He welcomed himself in my table With a gecko like grin etched on his face "You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs He winked as his blinking broke the speed record I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn He thought his tactics had worked I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast He hastefully followed suit "Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer "Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull I heard a deafening yell The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car So dear mom its not my fault am in jail Am here because i fought Mom am not a law breaker Am here because i am homophobic
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kid: what are those words? me: I'm writing poetry. kid: party tray? me: poetry. kid: polo tree? me: poetry. kid: poe uh chee? me: close enough. I love it like when people sing incorrect lyrics. But more, because kid has the cute and is missing a tooth.
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May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
the beauty of mispronunciation
2: City life is still strong, clubs reek with the boom chee boom chee boom, beats of a forgotten culture. The suburbs are quite now, families of four tucked into their beds, their Streets are post-apocalyptically barren. Snails drape the sidewalks because they believe they're protected under the shadows of night. A few cars on the freeway, search for somewhere to return. 3: In the city, drunken bodies drag themselves to find the nearest form of shelter, throwing shouts of gin and tonic to anyone who would let them be heard. A teenage girl sneaks back into her white house with a picket fence, hopping to God her parents don't wake up. Truck drivers route their way, trying to make it through the night. 4: The world seems to be resting. the distant hum of a car and faint sound of crickets are the only things in the air, but neither of them can be found. Four is my favorite hour. Walking the streets it is only you, it makes the world seem, in a way, that it is especially yours. Reality seems to be frozen, until that one car comes to breaks the trance. A world free from others cannot last. 5: The commuters shuffle into their cars to make their way to a sustainable future. The eyes of the world flicker open, still containing a haze of sleep. The world that was simply yours begins to gain occupants, slowly the sun rises lifting sleep from it followers. We have regained consciousness, the world seems less special. Until the next night my friend, until the next night.
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
My favorite hours to go out are from 2am until 5am
2: City life is still strong, clubs reek with the boom chee boom chee boom, beats of a forgotten culture. The suburbs are quite now, families of four tucked into their beds, their Streets are post-apocalyptically barren. Snails drape the sidewalks because they believe they're protected under the shadows of night. A few cars on the freeway, search for somewhere to return. 3: In the city, drunken bodies drag themselves to find the nearest form of shelter, throwing shouts of gin and tonic to anyone who would let them be heard. A teenage girl sneaks back into her white house with a picket fence, hopping to God her parents don't wake up. Truck drivers route their way, trying to make it through the night. 4: The world seems to be resting. the distant hum of a car and faint sound of crickets are the only things in the air, but neither of them can be found. Four is my favorite hour. Walking the streets it is only you, it makes the world seem, in a way, that it is especially yours. Reality seems to be frozen, until that one car comes to breaks the trance. A world free from others cannot last. 5: The commuters shuffle into their cars to make their way to a sustainable future. The eyes of the world flicker open, still containing a haze of sleep. The world that was simply yours begins to gain occupants, slowly the sun rises lifting sleep from it followers. We have regained consciousness, the world seems less special. Until the next night my friend, until the next night.
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... ... !DUMPING C:/SYSTEM/CACHE/ROOTNAMEBOOT! ... ... OK? Y/N Y/N ... ...DUMPING... ... ... ...Jaymisun Kearney... ... ... ...Lenore Lux... ... ... ...Donovan Chee... ... ... ...Zan Balmore... ... ... ...Lenneth Blackwulf... ... ... ...Shay Berit... ... ... ...Wren Rain... ... ... ...Miriam Marcus... ... ... ...Malakai Kraken... ... ... ...PROCESS COMPLETE... ... REBOOT? Y/N Y/N ... ...SYSTEM RESTARTING... ...
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 4:22 PM UTC
Clear Cache
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness, plus intellectual whimsy aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness, could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae furthering, feathering and figuratively undermining jestingly, poetically, and zealously oozing, gushing, bubbling over with faux snobbish suave re: pulse sieve literary fatuous haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre ning all the while chuckling to me self, and indifferent if some anonymous browser with Dutchman's breeches rolled up upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee disparages mine harmless badinage, hence if ye might qualify as such nitpicker, who doth cavil - dee crying wading thru quagmire of verbiage, a gentle reply to thee might be more wise to turn energy toward, how in many another country the village people haint so free spouting, sporting, and spoiling, vis a vis intellectual sparring (albeit innocent) black barbs hatch chee ving, and raising urgent attention against he (who **** squelching constitutional rights) re: pressing, rescinding, reviling, et cetera access toward key underpinnings within these fifty constituent United States of America beckon alacrity for obliging citizens across all points of the compass to alee v8 his indiscriminate flee sing, sans bedrock nation could tee tear on the brink of calamity, which political plug quite inadequate to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending many a sacred liberty, and foo to you reprimanding against any agree gee us objection to pen about polly lee ticks and/or religion!
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
No Inflated Cheekiness For This Logophile
I comport myself with quiet pridefulness, plus intellectual whimsy aware that "FAKE" pretentiousness, could be mistaken foreign egotistical vitae furthering, feathering and figuratively undermining jestingly, poetically, and zealously oozing, gushing, bubbling over with faux snobbish suave re: pulse sieve literary fatuous haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre ning all the while chuckling to me self, and indifferent if some anonymous browser with Dutchman's breeches rolled up upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee disparages mine harmless badinage, hence if ye might qualify as such nitpicker, who doth cavil - dee crying wading thru quagmire of verbiage, a gentle reply to thee might be more wise to turn energy toward, how in many another country the village people haint so free spouting, sporting, and spoiling, vis a vis intellectual sparring (albeit innocent) black barbs hatch chee ving, and raising urgent attention against he (who **** squelching constitutional rights) re: pressing, rescinding, reviling, et cetera access toward key underpinnings within these fifty constituent United States of America beckon alacrity for obliging citizens across all points of the compass to alee v8 his indiscriminate flee sing, sans bedrock nation could tee tear on the brink of calamity, which political plug quite inadequate to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending many a sacred liberty, and foo to you reprimanding against any agree gee us objection to pen about polly lee ticks and/or religion!
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