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May 9, 2012, 7:01:02 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




The rivers of winter ice had melted with spring sunshine's awakening and the noises of the forest announced the awakening of the fauna. a young fox stretched her long legs and fluffed up her tail as she yawned awake. this winter had been a lonely one for her, as she did not have a mate. throughout the winter she had felt the tingling feelings of her ****** urges creep between her legs and she moaned slightly as she felt them creeping there again.  she stepped slowly out of her den and took a cool breath of the spring air, bringing her the scents of the amorous flowers and the frolicking prey. she watched two birds in courting flight above har and she sighed at her loneliness. the fox hung her head low and walked softly forward. at some point she closed her eyes and yet kept walking, a few tears of longing falling from her eyes. the tingling urges grew stronger and she fought to keep them at bay. she kept walking a bit, aimlessly, though. she cried out as she stumbled over a heavy rock.
She tumbled into the nearby brook and felt a sharp stone cut her right hind leg. she clambered on to the bank, shivering and soaking wet with the chilled water. she attempted to stand and felt a fiery sting to her leg. she looked and saw a shallow **** marring her orange fur. "ow... ow..." she whimpered as she walked on. as the sun peaked over her, she felt her stomach's pleading for sustenance and she groaned. she could faintly smell a rabbit nearby and crouched low, going over how to stalk her prey. she sniffed for it and it seemed to be close, on the other side of a group of trees. she flanked around as best she could and spotted the furball. she licked her lips hungrily and pounced. the rabbit was dead in an instant as she tore its throat out. she chomped at it once and then felt a feeling of dread. she gulped once and heard a wolf growl nearby. i'm wounded... i can't avoid it now.
.
she thought. she heard the wolf running toward her and was bowled over by it. when she stopped
Rolling she was on her back. looking up at the wolf, a young grey, white chested wolf, at the beginning of his manhood. he snarled at his prey as she whimpered beneath him. then to her surprise, he sniffed at her and tilted his head, the tenseness of the hunt gone from his yellow eyes. the wolf took a step back and looked her up and down, stopping as he saw something. he spoke softly, almost caringly, "you are female... and in heat... i apologize for interrupting your meal."
the fox looked at him curiously, "You...?"
he glanced at her and finished her thought. "...do not harm females. it is a code of honor i choose to live by."
she sniffed at him, "you have no mate, no lover."
his breath caught. "nor do you, young fox, lest he'd be satiating your body's desires, and his as well."
she felt the tingling between her legs again and attempted to say something, but was stopped. the wolf said, "nor do i wish to take advantage of females either."
The fox replied suggestively, "you spared my life, surely theres some way i could repay you, handsome wolf."
the wolf looked at her, eyes dilated and his breathing rough. he shook his head, "no.. i couldnt. its not my place."
she could feel the urges burning inside her, she wanted to release them, she wanted this wolf to release her. "chivalrous, i see. then, dear wolf, alleviate my longing, my pain, and i shall alleviate your own."
the wolf took a step closer, his own longing feeding his fire. "beautiful fox... your offer intigues me... you- you are wounded..." she looked and saw her leg still bleeding. "let me aide you, dear fox." he took a few steps and lay beside her, licking her wound. with each lick, the pain receded and was replaced by a wave of pleasant ache. the bleeding stopped and he stopped licking, for the moment. he sniffed her, his cold nose brushing the swollen flesh, and as it quivered between her legs, he knew she was ready for him. "my den is close by, young fox."
She nuzzled against his chest and felt his heart pounding. she took his paw and pressed it against her own chest, letting him feel her heart. "you know we cant wait that long, here.. in this group of trees." she gestured to the spot a few feet away. the wolf quickly walked into the tangle of trees, followed by the fox. the wolf had hardly stepped inside the treeline before the fox began nudging at the furry bulge between his legs. "you're not quite ready yet, dear wolf." the wolf whimpered a few times as she licked at it, taking his smooth member in her mouth and enticing it with her tongue. once it was throbbing in its full glory, she licked one last time and said, "now you're ready." and raised herself in preparation for him. he got into position on top of her and with one paw she guided him inside her. she gasped as he stretched her a little. she glanced over her shoulder and
realized that he wasnt that much bigger than her. he looked nervous and she realized something,
This is his first time... mine too... lets make this memorable.. she experimented with different positions, and after finding her favorite, set about making this wolf howl.
the wolf ****** slowly at first, drawing out the ecstasy. only when she began to whimper amorously did he begin to ****** harder, faster. she joined him, as he pulled back, she leaned forward, leaving only his tip inside her. when he ******, she leaned back on him with a wet squish. the wolf's tongue lolled and his eyes were glazed over in sweet agony. he howled softly at first, and as the ****** came, he howled again, echoing with the fox's cries as the ecstasy reached its ****** and rocked their bodies. the wolf staggered slightly at the passionate waves of ******. he pulled out his member and looked at his mate. "come with me to my den, so we can sleep, dear fox." the fox looked at him and nodded, grateful.
* * *
The fox and the wolf walked quietly to his den, set inside a secluded cluster of trees. the den itself was set in the ground, like a cavern, just large enough for the two of them to lie down comfortably. "its going to get cold tonight," said the wolf. "we should... share body heat." he had a faint twinkle in his eyes as he glanced nervously at her. when she tilted her head to him, the wolf looked down at his paws. the fox licked his muzzle and laid down next to him. the wolf's grey fur was thick, and she was  already beginning to feel warmer. she felt the wolf's heart beat a little faster, and he curled around her. his furry tail wrapped around the fox and she purred slightly as she nuzzled him and rested her head on his foreleg. for a moment they lay there, eyes closed, listening to the others' breathing, when he whispered to her, "i never did catch your name, young fox."
she grinned at him, "my name's Sasha, the only fox in this forest. and what be your name, dear wolf?"
The wolf opened one eye slightly to look at her, "my name is Ronan, i'm the last wolf of my pack."
she held him in her gaze a few beats and replied, "i haven't seen many wolves 'round these parts, where do you come from, Ronan?"
the grey sighed and said, "Farther north, over the mountains and into ice country. the food became scarce and the pack withered away, all but me. i treveled over the hills and mountains, through forests and grassland, and i kept going, finally stopping here. what of you? you said yourself you were the only fox in this forest."
Sasha swished her tail back and forth for a moment before, "i was separated from my family during a blizzard. i- i couldn't see anything, and i couldn't hear anything over the wind. i wandered aimlessly in the whiteout, tripping and stumbling until i bumped into something big. then again, i was just a kit and everything was big to me, but i looked up and saw a pair of eyes looking at me. i was so scared the snow beneath me turned yellow.
The monster bent over and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and carried me for a long time. i was so exhausted i fell asleep in its grip. when i woke up i was in a chilly den. i looked and realized that the monster had been a snow-white she-wolf. she sat at the enterance to the den and kept looking outside, waiting for something. when the snowstorm cleared out, she turned to me and said, 'little fox. have you a family?' i shook my head as i realized they were gone. from then on, the wolf raised me and taught me how to survive. then one day a few years ago... she was gone..."
Ronan was watching the fox as she told the story. "i'm sorry."
"don't be, ronan. ever since she left ive been alone. no fox to breed me, no one for a lover. until you came along..."
ronan licked her muzzle, "no need for loneliness now." sasha smiled and was soon asleep, warmed by her lover.
*
The sun rose and shone brightly into the entrance of the den the next morning, waking sasha from her slumber. she yawned and felt around for the grey. she felt nothing. she stood up and looked around the empty den. did he... leave me? a single tear fell when she imagined the possibility. "no.... please no..." she whimpered. her breath caught as she heard something rustling the grass outside the den. sasha shrank back and hid behind her tail, peeking over it slightly. she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and feel it rising in her throat as the rustling got closer and closer. she squeaked, "who... who's there?"
she flinched as a dark mass blocked the sunlight, its shadow stretching across the wall. the mass stepped slowly forward and sasha shut her eyes tight, fearing what might come next. "sasha?" it was ronan. "what's the matter?"
she gasped at him before rushing forward and burying her muzzle in his chest fur. "i thought you'd left me..."
with a paw, ronan stroked the fur on her back. "i'm a wolf, ***. loyalty and chivalry are the only things i know." she buried herself deeper in his fur and scolded herself for not realizing that. "i caught breakfast, i figured you'd be hungry after i interrupted your meal yesterday." she looked behind him and saw a small pile of ****** rabbits. sasha licked her lips hungrily. "its all yours, dear fox." she looked gratefully at Ronan before pouncing on the pile of carcasses, tearing into one and bloodying her maw. ronan watched her with pleasant  affection. the den was filled with the sounds of flesh being rendered from bone and the snapping of Sasha's teeth. she feasted upon the **** until she could eat no more, her belly now filled. two rabbits still lay uneaten, and ronan devoured them slowly, savoring the ****** meat as it slipped down his gullet. sasha lay nuzzled up against him while he ate, toying at his tail and
otherwise teasing at him. he gave her a look of amusement and somehow got into a game of tag with her.
He chased her around the den and she dodged his paw as he reached for her. when he did finally touch her, sasha dove between his legs and poked his furry belly. leaving him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. he then chased sasha outside and they continued their game within the cluster of trees around them. sasha laughed, a liquid smooth, crystal clear laugh. ronan watched her jump around him, the sun's rays catching her fine orange fur in such a way that it seemed almost like fire. he watched her a moment and loosed a soft howl. she's so beautiful... he thought.
* *
Simon Soane Jul 2013
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
thankfully not in a medical way
i don't have to pop pills everyday
to keep an essence of danger under control
and to stop my head doing backward flips and forward rolls
to curtail bad thoughts and contain OCD
wake up and think "what's happening to me?"
but sometimes i'm full of mazey bomb blasts
and crazy contrasts,
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
I say work i'm not even gonna give 50% percent never mind double
but i'll stay just below the warning threshold so i don't really get in trouble,
i do see my sick days as extra days of annual leave
but my bums on my seat most of the year and at least one Eve.
I'm always ducking and diving, i hide and they seek,
but i hit my targets every week.
They can say put down your pens,
strip your pencils of lead,
you can't stop me writing in my head
But you'll sometimes dictate what time i go to bed.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
Nearly every road i walk down i've got a ***** cat friend
there meowing never drives me round the bend
but if me owing then just a letter i'll send.
I’ll rescue  spiders from the bath, without any exception,
But I’ll clean their webs and evict them when I have a house inspection.
Giving up pork, on a parity with pigges at last
But then i broke my faste with bacon for breakfast
Watching lambs a gamboling there frolicking is fab,
but i'll see you on a plate later if i'm craving a kebab.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite.
Money and the capitalist structure baffles, no thanks, no ta
but before i go out a quick sub off Ma and Pa.
I'll pay for a taxi, i don't care about the amount,
while checking fervently the statement from my bank account.
Cash cannot be eaten it just gets you into Eton
but i'll rifle through my pockets for pennies to get an eat on
i don't adore you, i'll say your the means to an end
but then i spend some more and ask for a lend.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite.
I'll say anarchy  is everywhere, petition and abstain
then  read in the late edition who i think should take the reins.  
I scream smash the system without any regrets
but then start stubbing out where they deem no cigarettes.
I'll say **** big business they are always looting tons
while cutting out Asda coupons to get the soup with croutons.
i'll say **** materialism, to that i am adverse,
"ohh if you want to get me some trainers Mum can you make em Converse? "
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
One Saturday i found it hard to move
crying out for water, more than needing food,
stomach emptier than the packets in my pockets
Early winter scribble
spoiled by the ripple of rain,
deadened and dull
on a precious day,
the time I crave
passes through a husk
full of caves.
Each inhabitant curses
and burns
the stagnant soil under their feet,
I want something to eat.
I need to drink.
The cold slab of sink
lures flesh to rest,
unsatisfied
with retched offerings
flung from a scorched earth
so next Friday, a few beers and l I’ll hit the hay
Ten beers later, where’s the MDMA?
And my staunch resolutions go up my nose
Chatting through the night, striking a pose,
Music accentuated, stars sparkling hard
World’s discussed in magic back yards,
Focused and fraught in tumultuous thought
Ten cigs in an hour
An hours too short,
As the morning comes, I start feeling a mess
It slowly disintegrates the treasure in my chest,
Feelings of strength crumble to a feeble frame,
Spears in my head, WHOOPS I’VE DONE IT AGAIN.
You’ll stop this time, I curse and lecture,
Two bottles down next Friday etc etc,
I’m a schizophrenic hypocrite
I remember an uneventful Tuesday when i wasn't working
belly full of rice
and i saw you twice,
two times a day,
on a day in lieu,
time stood still,
smiling at you
i thought i'm gonna have to write about you,
so i park myself in a bar after a joint in Netto carpark
and start using words to build an arc
and if you you do wanna walk in two by two,
can i walk in with you?
Is it this green ride that's getting me high
or the regret i seen in the gleam of your eye
that as soon as we said hi we said bye,
as disappointed as the catcher when he dropped the rye.
If i may be so bold,
if you were cold
i wouldn't hail these stones
i'd pummel Jack Frost until he knows he's lost,
i'll leave all the lights on to hasten global warming
make Obama declare winter a season of mourning,
If you met an iceberg of Titanic  proportions
i'd cut through it quicker than the Ripper does back street abortions.
If you were in prism
i'd try to unrangle the science of triangles
so i could build you a pyramid with all the right angles,
my stomachs in knots;
the most tranquil of tangles.
Then i saw you get out of the lift
and i wanted to play you a rift
until you exposed your midriff
because you set me adrift from chains and shackles
my mind goes crazy and fills with cackles,
i crackle with lightning, my energy heightens
my heart tightens
and not cos of cholesterol
cos i think you're special
and celestial!
I got dreams from naught, my head feels taught,
i prised a lesson from your eyes,
love is the greatest prize.
But now that's gone, all things
pass evolution in transience
faces that were everything lost to balance
blue it merge
but seldom a residual surge
and your bark today was worst than your bite
it said something softly,
i sow the seeds for the sycamore trees
we can carve our names on next summer.
Under an endless stretching sky
you wrote you
and i wrote i,
the lights in our eyes don't lie
they are gateways to the suns inside,
our hearts couldn't hide from this brightening tide.
I'm a Schizophrenic hypocrite
I remember this guy from work, cooed to me
look at the **** on this page 3
he drooled over Nuts magazine like he belonged in a zoo
i bet he frequented strippers too.
He said seen this clip, it's ******* great,
it ad turn a couple of queers straight
it was these two twins with rouge lips being rude,
the way she chomped on her like food
and they defo loved it,there is  no doubt
it's just just ***** Eskimo ******* kissing snouts
and sharing with her sister the joy of getting licked out.
Wonder how they looked in the family car?
giggling about some exciting destination,
like all kids displaying a lack of patience,
“are we there yet” chorused with glee and duality,
dressed in the same clothes to ensure parity.
Ice cream for tea.
Maybe they might be way into drugs
or addled with addiction
lacking hugs
and sore from the friction.
Not liking the glare
feeling scared.
maybe?
He said nar they love it up them baby.
But then,
i have it
about 3 or 4 times a week
after the 5th time of hitting snooze,
or a heavy night on the *****,
or sometimes no beer,
even after a sonnet of Shakespeare
a sudden urge comes over me,
GET THE LAPTOP!
GET THE *******!
Then it's
Japanese teen lesbians spitting,
finger ******* wearing mittens,
****'s ******* Britions,
oap creampies
***** covered eyes
***** flicking,
extreme suction,
**** destruction,
Captain Birds Eye gobbing
Batman ******* Robin,
A ten inch plumber ******* in a kitchen sink drama
Robert de Niro unpeeling Bananarama
Marty doing the Doc
a gimped up Kirk whipping Spoc
Rita  ******* Norris
Gail licking Fizz
Sally doing Dev
and Kevin doing ki.............Kevin, get out of the room.
Back to
a **** doing a ******
a pre op pleasuring granny
two ***** one *****,
then i chuck my muck all over my tunic
flip over and continue reading The Female ******,
I'm a Schizophrenic Hypocrite,
i've gotta split.
Poetic T Feb 2016
Years had past since PTD's cases, all was now
Play and fun. But the little man missed
The chase of what could be found
Mysteries,
Riddles,
Enigmas
Of what was hidden from view. He was
A bright young fellow now
Six years old.
Words are longer as gurgles faded into
Memories past thoughts. He had come
Home to mummy,

"How's my little man,

"I have a loose toothy peg Mummy,

"Well no playing,
"As we don't want it lost for the tooth fairy,

So little man played with his cars
"Brummmm,
Brrruuumm,
Screecchhhh,
"That was close the baddies nearly caught us,

He played till it started to get dark, then heard
His mummy calling from down stairs.

"Little man time to get ready for bed sweet heart,

"Ok mummy I'm changing now,

A jumper did fly socks also too,
Trousers flew in the air landing waist
Side up on his head too.
Jester
Clown
Fun
Times of an imagination as he runs around.
But in to jimjams he must now do,
his favourite ones were
Captain Carrot Space Ranger.
He has all the books reading them to sleep
His favourite story before he slumbers in to dreams.

~Captain Carrots Space Race~

Trix sat in his comfy seat, his friends
All waiting for his words of as the race was
Set in the dust nebula
 Atria
Its dark in space only stars glitter.
But in the dust cloud it was like rainbows blossomed
A light show of the universal beauty.


Right my fluffiest friends its time to launch.
       3
  2
1
Rockets ignited and away they went,
Captain Trix was nibbling on a cucumber stick.
Then from no where the naughty
  Cat Captain Frost
Bashed and knocked at their ship, and off the
Race course they fell. They tumbled into a pocket of

Darkest space. Captain its  dark  in here, the lights
Faded and all was dark.
  Trix  could hear teeth chattering.

Be calm my friends, there is nothing scary in the shadows.
Take out your carrot coins, and nibble, chew,
And with that, once finger licked and all was chomped
All that was heard was trix voice, right can we all
See? yes captain carrot vison is a go.


They set a course out of this darkest place and
Out they popped into normal space, colours gleamed
As they saw they were in last place.
Rockets burst into action and they flew in
And out, weaving through the clouds
One pasted, two pasted, three pasted
Now they were in second place.


Who should be in first place naughty  Captain Frost
He had a coat as white as snow. but that was
As far as his niceness did go. He was a naughty
Kitty and everyone did know.
Sir he is blocking our path, we cant get through
Ok secret decoy time fluffy friends.

           3
     2
1
Cats attention set adrift sir, and into space it wondered,
In sight of Captain Frosts view. Out came the holding
Claws, and the space wool did bobble and excitement
Was the pleasure of kitties day. While they entertained
Themselves, Captain Trix did glide on past.
Full speed ahead as they race past the finish line.


Yawns were the calling of the night as the story
Ended as eyes blinked soon to be shut

"Mummy Captain Carrot [Trix] won the race,

"Yes he did darling and that's why meanies are always last,
"Sweet dreams my baby now off to sleep,

The night drew on as eyes slept through, and little
Mans dreams were of carrots and rabbits
That whizzed through the night sky, ZOOM.
Morning broke through his curtains and
Yawns did come and go. Slippers were
On as cold it felt, and downstairs
He wondered dressing gown and all.

"Mummy what's for breakfast?
"Was that me Mummy?

"Open wide little man, goodness me....,
"There is a gap where there should be a tooth?

"O' no I have a missing toothy peg,
"***** trained detective is on the case,
"I think I may need a new name?
"Junior Trained Detective,
"No that's not right does ring true?
"Buddy The Trained Detective.

"That's the nickname you gave me mummy,

"That's excellent little man, I love your choice,

His mummy smiles and gives him a hug and
Kisses his forehead, they search under his pillow
"Nope? Mmmm... may have to get out the cap
And magnifying glass -o

"Mummy this is too small for me?

"Don't worry little man I thought this day may come,

Out of a box she pulls his new hat out, he tries it
On, perfectly it fits on his head and his detective
Days have started again. Fist my bedroom under
The pillow I will seek my tooth be it here or there.
But pillow case removed quilt removed o' so slowly
For a tooth we don't want to lose it, but nothing appeared.

"One place now searched with a keen eye,
"Now so many other places for it to hide,

He thought of where a tooth would place hide and
Seek from its home in the mouth, under the
Bed he thought.Torch in hand he wiggled under
The wooden from and what we he see but his
Car that vanished quite a while ago, I wondered
Where that went? a sweet, a pen, a coin for the piggybank.

"Mummy its not under or over the bed,
"I looked hard, but no where can it be found,

Little man was frustrated at the thought that the
Tooth fairy would not be rewarded with a tooth.
Right let me think? he thought of that night, it
Was their in bed, when story time was read.
It was their when mummy give him a kiss goodnight.
In the morning it was gone

"Captain Carrot,
"Trix where are you,
This is no time for hide and seek,

He found him tucked in his quilt, sleeping soundly.
"There you are sorry to wake you,
He looked in his hair "Nope not there,
Looked in his tail it was white and fluffy
"Nope not there,
He thought once again? if he were
Captain Carrot where would he keep his
Best friends tooth safe if it feel out in dreamy sleep.

A smile etched across Buddies face at the thought of
Where he would keep it safe for him.
In his little fingers did search around, and then
A little white rock, no a tooth was found.
Captain Trix had kept it safe in his uniform pocket.

"Mummy, mummy,
"The case Is solved I found my tooth,
"Detective work solves a puzzling case again,

"Where was it my little man?

"Captain Carrot had it snuggly warm in his space rucksack,

"That's fantastic,
"Now where does a tooth now found go,

She smiles rubbing his hair, off to his bedroom
He runs tooth proudly in hand.
Lifting his pillow he gently places it with pride
In the place where the tooth fairy could easily
Reach and find. Leaving a special present for this
Little boy who had found his missing toothy peg.

"I think I may keep this cap,
*"Let Buddy the trained detective solve cases again soon,
Meg B Dec 2014
You were always
an early bird, and I wasn't,
but my favorite thing was
to stumble out of my slumber
and hungrily look at my phone for a text saying
wake up
to which I would hurriedly respond,
though three hours later,
and you knew I would,
so as soon as I did as you predicted
you would command me to
drive the less-than-ten-minutes to your apartment
so you could cook me some
breakfast,
and we could get lost in each other.

You made me eggs and bacon
and always a biscuit with my choice of topping,
and you'd put on whatever CD we
currently found relevant,
that one time I know it was Ne-Yo,
and I chomped on my plate full of yummies
so cheerily
as you made me listen so closely to
lyrics you knew I would
just
get.

10 AM and I was somehow
thrilled to be out of bed,
enjoying the way the sun peeked behind the clouds
and stroked my cheek
as we shared a smoke on your porch.

You were the kinda guy that
made me like mornings,
that made me
feel the weight of the words in songs,
that made me appreciate art
and notice how pink
the sunset was,
that made me want to read the newspaper
so I could pick your brain and
pay attention in class so I could
tell you what I learned,
that made my world brighter
and my burdens lighter.

You were you and
you made me a certain kinda me and
**** do I sometimes still wanna
wake up
and eat some eggs while you
tell me your dreams and
your stereo plays.
Adam and Eve lived here
before she went vegan
and chomped the wrong apple
dropping them both into deep schtuck
with a difficult learning curve
before they got up to speed
as our progenitors
and began begetting.

With only two to start with
there had to have been a lot of ******
with begats here and begats there
and still, the gene pool stayed clean
without fits and starts
so there must have been a Divine Profiler
in the sky keeping the books straight
with our future at stake.

But there is a question?
In the beginning there were only two
so was Adam the midwife
and if so
where did he learn the skills
the whole midwifery bit
the gentle initial slap
to get the first wail ever on this earth

Interesting theological
and philosophical thoughts
not even thinking
about baby clothes
and the like
I suppose breastfeeding
was a must before Baby Formula

Deep thoughts for Easter
My computer is having a hard time getting on line today, That is why there were two Number One Paradise on line. The other one is deleted now so if you liked it the Like has gone with the poem
mark jarrad Sep 2010
There goes mary...
On her way down to the shop
She's off to buy some liquorice
And lots of fizzy pop...

Sweet tooth mary...
With her teeth as black as sin
She gave the children nightmares
When she smiled her mouldy grin

She chomped her way through toffee bars
And bags filled to the brim
With sugar cakes and frosted flakes
But mary's fate was grim

For mary learnt a lesson
A price for her sweet taste
She spent her cash on candy
And never bought toothpaste

That night as mary lay in bed
With sweet wrappers beneath
Toothfairies came with hobnailed boots
And kicked out all her teeth !
This poem was  published in 2008 ,  in a book entitled ' IMMORTAL VERSES' .
Ellis Reyes Apr 2013
Harry the Hippo was a circus fave
For 15 years on the center stage.
He delighted kids young and old
Balancing ***** on his oversized nose.

Year after year
Show after show
Harry delighted
with his big, whopping nose.

No one under the big top
could have guessed
What horrible thing
Would happen next

From the front of crowd,
in a colorful seat,
A blond haired boy
tossed Harry a treat

Harry chomped it down
and continued his act,
Then
Suddenly
Harry stopped,
And fell flat on his back

Harry rolled right
Harry rolled left
then
Harry died a
Painful...
choking...
death

The Ringleader called for the hippo doc
Who told him that Harry died from
Anaphyalactic  shock
Brought on by a child’s
Peanut lollipop
virgil deckard Mar 2013
Limp, lingering, low
it hangs overhead
like a nagging grammatical error
It hangs overheard
like the sagging breast i never looked for/


we chomped at the bit til our teeth fell out
but i never liked food much anyhow
well hung, but only on semantics
rusty, rotten, ridgid, romantic
Its starting again because lord only knows
I can hold a grudge so much better than a pose
Kush Mar 2016
With my friends, I goose-stepped down a dingy street, us all chomping down on pigs’ feet meat

My wet ears, inexperience glistening, opened up to the city eagerly listening

Heard orders for ****** and boy toys which, essentially, created walls of white noise

Found my way onto a queen-sized lump of trash and determined it a quality place to crash

Woke up suddenly to find the third eye of my mind permanently blind

Watched my body plunge into the absolute abysmal solely due to a habit of feeling terribly dismal

Started painting an accurate portrait of daily life using the ornate hues of continuous strife

Made a recipe for misery with some sassafras and a dab of the other side’s greener grass

It wasn’t until I chomped down on a half-finished Baby Ruth that my noggin’ tuned into the truth

Turns out, birds of a feather are held together by the absolute weakest of tethers
SWB Aug 2011
The sun burning through clouds

never chomped so loud,

I'm surprised the moon's still alive.



Breaking ice in the town,

our minds floating around

cold wind throwing crystals and knives.
Poetic T Feb 2016
Trix* sat in his comfy seat, his friends
All waiting for his words of as the race was
Set in the dust nebula Atria
Its dark in space only stars glitter.
But in the dust cloud it was like rainbows blossomed
A light show of the universal beauty.

Right my fluffiest friends its time to launch.
       3
  2
1
Rockets ignited and away they went,
Captain Trix was nibbling on a cucumber stick.
Then from no where the naughty  Cat Captain Frost
Bashed and knocked at their ship, and off the
Race course they fell. They tumbled into a pocket of
Darkest space. Captain its  dark  in here, the lights
Faded and all was dark. Trix could hear teeth chattering.

Be calm my friends, there is nothing scary in the shadows.
Take out your carrot coins, and nibble, chew,
And with that, once finger licked and all was chomped
All that was heard was trix voice, right can we all
See? yes captain carrot vison is a go.

They set a course out of this darkest place and
Out they popped into normal space, colours gleamed
As they saw they were in last place.
Rockets burst into action and they flew in
And out, weaving through the clouds
One pasted, two pasted, three pasted
Now they were in second place.

Who should be in first place naughty Captain Frost
He had a coat as white as snow. but that was
As far as his niceness did go. He was a naughty
Kitty and everyone did know.
Sir he is blocking our path, we cant get through
Ok secret decoy time fluffy friends.
          3
     2
1
Cats attention set adrift sir, and into space it wondered,
In sight of Captain Frosts view. Out came the holding
Claws, and the space wool did bobble and excitement
Was the pleasure of kitties day. While they entertained
Themselves, Captain Trix did glide on past.
Full speed ahead as they race past the finish line.
for the full version of what this is part of have a gander here :)
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1542436/*****-trained-detective-the-missing-toothy-peg/
an earlier draft of this barely satisfactory missive ex post facto, i chomped asper with upper dentures upon evincing a couple of typographical errors, in up rye or draft, and did not wanna dodge being a spell bound stickler for typing words correctly.

though no obligation to trot out this fixation sans zero misspelling tolerance, a compulsion with any concomitant obsession found me reposting before a repast of dessert - so there Ghost of Marie Antoinette, wherever you might be hiding - i can have my cake and eat it too!

Minus trimmings and over stuffed ego freezers,
but altruism, civility, Dharma *** ethnocentrism,
gratuitous homogeneous internationalism,
karma mosaic opportunism, quitessential righteousness,
unpretentious vivacious wide world yipping,

brouhaha dutifully emphasizing friendliness,
antithetically booing critical, popularly pugnacious
spoiled trump petting uber western yikyak,
zealous antipathy craving everything.
---------------------------------------------------------
a hypothetical, mental, rhetorical thought question
   occurred to me just moments ago
sans, milk of human kindness bubbles frothily
   upon major American holiday,

   whereat figurative bro
   thar and sisters exhibit philanthropic ambitions
   especially, towards indigent that crow
for bare necessities

   other than
   when Thanksgiving rolls around, and dough
nuts to dollars even most frugal misanthropes
   play feigned charitable card egoistically glow
with ambient benevolence, civility,
   diligent energy, and friendly hello

and sundry pleasant greetings
   hook hood be some
   soon tubby rich entrepreneurial stranger
   ready to make shares available vis a vis  IPO

   to dirt poor anonymous guarillas G.I. Jane or G.I. Joe
   who cross paths with each other,
   even those one doth not know
when ordinary biases, callousness,

   denigration...doth full low
out the mouths of hoity toity MainLiners
   towards working class people - mow
awe less trying to remain financially afloat,
   and with plea for handout
   would receive an emphatic NO!

Thee exception to unspoken aristocratic rule
   arising on feted buzz
   feed ding occasions where oboe
players invoke cobra to deliver riches galore to the 'po

whom sincerely show gratitutde,
   yet wonder why status quo
reserves select calendrical dates for handouts
   proffered after standing in a row
of similarly bereft individuals aware at stark

   outpouring overt nurture minded, humanity
   (with perchance a guest appearance by Sean Hannity),
this public denouement,
   an atypical venue for his television show

where generosity spills forth
   from said personality and others alike
blithely, demonstrably, fortuitously, happily,
   jubilantly, lovingly, modestly, poignantly,
   where an announcer speaks thru a mike

to open their doors and hearts asper,
   those down and out
   pushing belongings along the pea king pike
of broken tureens with
   only a mangy dog as companionship,

and though I admit tubby hyperbolical,
   hypocritical, hypothetical hypoteneuse of hippopotamus
   no charity less valuable then self and spouse,
   whom both experience spike
in anxiety since net income purportedly
   below the poverty level, though we reside

   within subsidized housing (outliers
   here at 2 Highland Manor Drive),
   yet random acts of an effortless smile,
   cordial greeting to passersby, or
   waving fellow drivers right of way,
Page Number Three:

such minimally polite services today,
the most within my limited monetary hi say
means, which behavior aye strive ray
   dee to maintain zero cost politesse, which doth pay
highest dividends, which reciprocal acknowledge may
be the greatest reward,

   whether or not a response elicited tis quite o kay
the satisfaction arising breeching comfort zone
   viz exposure therapy lighting up gray
matter analogous to a cerebral Christmas tree
   and any regret avoided, asper congenial efforts    
   generate “hi” kickstarts my day.
Eric Martin Dec 2016
She begs me for mercy
But I don't hear her pleas
She sees I am blood thirsty
She falls to her knees

I love to watch them squirm
I love the way they are dominated
She wants it and it will be on my term
I love how much I am hated

In her mouth outlined with tears a put my ****
She looked so hungry that I just had to let her start feeding
But she must of bin because she Chomped down on my stock
All I saw when I looked down was a stub that was bleeding

The End
Oona Feb 2017
You were six years old when your parents took you to the art museum
and you almost died. Fell down four flights of stairs,
yet stood up with nothing more than a scrape on your bicep.
Mom will call this day a miracle, the day her daughter escaped
almost certain death
. Sometimes, though, you wish you could have hit your head
a little harder; chomped down so ******* your tongue that part of it
could have fallen off (and maybe then you could be beautiful.)

The problem is, your mom tells her coworkers that it’s
God’s Gift of Life that you’re still here. Sometimes she squeezes
your hand so hard you’ll worry she’ll break your bones,
which are already so thin, just the way she likes them. (Because
a near-death experience does not justify something like
chubby fingers.) (Even to your mother, who held you in her arms
as you whimpered at the bottom of a staircase and kissed
your forehead as she told you it would be okay.)

Your friends tell you that you’re meant to be here, and they
love you, they really do, and your tongue tastes flat and boring
in your mouth as you clamor for an interesting story to tell, a tale
of survival that will make them miss you
even when they have you, and yet you find
nothing: nothing.
Strangerous Aug 2022
One windless evening the bass started biting
just before sunset as I glided along
the bayou in a pirogue with a ******
of the paddle here and there for direction.

I was casting a topwater up against
the bank among the cypress trunks and stumps
and overhanging limbs and shrubs and twitching
and popping the bait until the fish struck.

To see and hear and feel the violent burst
of each strike and to set the hook firmly
in each jaw and each battle kept me out
until the mosquitoes and the gator came.

At first a bumpy head at least a foot wide
and three feet long with big shiny black eyes
inched toward the pirogue and me as if we
were just what he had in mind for dinner.

I dropped my rod and thought I’d better paddle
fast and hard before Wally got too close
but Wally sensed panic and to my horror
I saw the swish of his tail fifteen feet back.

The gator accelerated smooth and quick
and locked its gaze upon the very spot
the paddle broke water to push me away
as the jaws snapped shut and cracked it in half.

I slid away watching as the gator shook
its monstrous head free of the broken splinter
and I realized now he’d be coming again
for me down the bayou with half a paddle.

The pirogue rocked on the wave Wally made
during all the commotion and sure enough
he came again stalking the little boat
now stalled and adrift so I had to act fast.

I untied and lifted my stringer of bass
gasping and wet like a shiny green fleece
and hefted and hurled it aiming precisely
at the slashing jaws of the reptile beast.

The gator struck at the fish with a splash
of his big toothy head and chomped down on three
huge bass and swallowed them whole in one gulp
then snapped up three more that were still on the string.

So Wally was happy for now as the sun
went down and I wondered how to get back
to the dock half a mile away in the dark
with Wally nearby and perhaps hungry yet.

Then I got an idea and picked up my rod
and cast the old topwater past Wally’s head
and chugged it back popping in front of his face
where soon he attacked it and hooked himself good.

Wally went down with a **** and a swirl
and made such a wave I grabbed the boat rail
with one hand while holding onto the rod
which bent almost double as the line stretched tight.

The pirogue took off like a rocket boat
as Wally swam up the bayou to flee
the pressure and drag and the alien hook
underwater and then on top with me.

In no time I neared the dock in the dark
and slackened the line until Wally shook free
then glided right up to the dock and *******
and got out fishless but at least in one piece.
© 1997 by Jack Morris
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
authors note
Hey Everyone! This is a little peom I made with one line from each of my peoms fused together. It's a little strange but I wanted to represent all of my work. I hope you like it!!! Crandall*





I feel safe with your power
You chomped me and swallowed me whole
you're pitch dark eyelashes, like pitch dark strings
your kindness, happiness, gorgeousity

corporations are evil
crandall's art was super great
our wurld is a mess

you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it
i hear your screeches as you sing along to katy perry's "swish swish"
towers of grape, rolling bouncing
my fingers would slide down it like a sheet of paper on a river of melted butter

paper-thin beetle wings,
fear
i love the little *****

eggs remind me of you
the next day i saw you your eye was the size of a glob of clove powder
Or an ant on a log
peoms

That was your licky number,
Don't be ashamed of your hobnobs.

I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death
the repriduction of the universe
howdy doo
darknes.
my princess, my darling, my murderer

the ocean, salty like my tears
My thoughts were running wild like snip snip
i  g u e s s  t h i s  i s  j u s t  a  c r u e l  w o r l d

i smell you
take the nuts
Your kneecaps
hope you like this strange peom i created!
please leave feedback and comments below! :)
PadrePio Jul 2017
It was a dark silvery night

And the moon had gone a-hiding

And the birds had ceased a-chirping

When I beheld a ****** sight

A gripping, chilling tale of fright.


It was a high and lofty place

And there I stood a-shivering

And in that terrace a-trembling

When down the lane I saw a face

A tall, thin man walked in a daze.


It was a large and rusty ax

And in his right hand a-swinging

And in its blade, the blood a-dripping

When… ‘Horrors, horrors!’ and I gasped!

He drank the blood, and then he laughed!


It was a round and severed head

And in his left hand a-clinging

And in its neck the wound a-gaping

When suddenly, he chomped and chewed!

He ate the head! Oh God, the head!


Yes, ’twas a high and lofty place

And there I stood a-shivering

And in that terrace a-trembling

When down I gazed and saw a face

A tall, thin man below my terrace.
matt d mattson Oct 2014
How loud the dead men walked
Stumbling grumbling bumbling
How horribly they stalked
Moaning, groaning, loudly owning
All the night in which they walked
Our conversation died
But still the dead men talked
Of brains, and organs, kidneys, spleen,
We broke and then we baulked
Bustling hustling soundless rustling
Towards the exit almost out until we knocked
The vase that shattered splattered and we scattered
The dead men stopped, with dead heads cocked
Towards the sound of breaking glass
We stared dead eyes as all were shocked
Then the keening, awful screaming full of meaning
Sprinting, running, breathless fleeing from the dead that came careening
Heedless, reckless, mindless feckless,
Almost out but we were blocked
Stuck and captured cowed and caught
How we tried but were outfought
Chewed and chomped by jaws so locked
And now I to feel dead and rot
Taking over, bleeding stopped
Eyes are going legs are shot
Stiff and moaning and not knowing
How horribly us dead men walk
Katie Panushka May 2012
The Earth opened her mouth and swallowed me whole

She started with my feet and moved slowly to my heart
I felt my muscles relax as she chewed, chomped and tore me apart
She jabbed at my eyes, she scratched at my spleen
I cried out for help but was never seen

I'm under her fingernails, smeared on her face
The scars on my back can never be erased
I gasp Quick! for air but could not breathe
From her loving arms I will never leave

The Earth opened her mouth and swallowed me whole
She keeps chewing and chomping
                                              but she'll never be full.
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
Your lips were blood red
Dripping with fervor
Your teeth were shining white
Like pearls or snow
Your tongue was a snake tongue
Forked and ready to last out with hurtful words

So entrancing
You ate me up with this mouth
You chomped me and swallowed me whole
You never said sorry
i wrote this peom about a woman. i didn't know she would hurt me but she did
please leave comments and feedback below!
PK Wakefield Mar 2011
hey, it came about that i was
and it was thus that i am
          
                 or is

and will be was
but so of now i will be
if  only yet but not still a while
   and if so i'll do some thinking
and some thoughting
    or stand or eat (or sometimes both) or sometimes neither
and if by day
so too at night
                                      I'll come to these
                                      the dead length of
                                      heavy words
                                       which writ by men of learned haste
                                        i,ve chomped the morsel of
                                        their fat and narrow tidy
                                        skinny wide messes
                                     in chapters and verse
                                    
yet what will stodgily
revolve to fore is central
the chiefest realization
of my riggling dearth
is that all is simply unsimple
a great prfounding
a small and illustrious sound
                                                           ­              (everything is paradox
                                                         ­                so too are i as you
                                                             ­            and you or i
                                                               ­          a truths a lie
                                                                ­         or lying truth
                                                           ­              and if you listen hard enoughyoucanhearalmostnothingrattledeeplyfirmingorfirmlydeepening­ . . ,
Destiny sans mine family of origin domicile
   locked in a full nelson,
   and...eventually wrestled
   to the ground as pile of jagged rubble!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Synonymous with fragile hulk
   (pitted against backhoe and wrecking ball)
   incredibly resilient,
   when incessantly whip lashed
   until unanchored off mooring

thence, her frail exterior (rabidly
chomped via humungous steely toothed jaws)
bowed, teetered and collapsed
stern weight accosted, beckoned, and caved, 
spot on dead reckoning,

   non bash full machination yen
suffering being most weather beaten
   since about nineteen ten
embodying painstaking craftsmanship
   from way back when,

effort to build an enduring domicile
   ruled as blueprint for a den
not necessarily of thieves,
but extra ordinary ship shape,
   rich n hard folks (The Leipers)

fancying innovative
   Hercules hue men, and women 
who wrought their family genealogy
   via quilted pen
predecessors of Barbie and their ken
Erected by strong strapping young men.

Since February 28th 1968
   mighty noble domain occupied
by thine now octogenarian widower father
echoing with ghosts,
   who formerly inhabited 324 Level Road
(plus spirit of deceased mother), 

a plethora of past occupants came to life
when’re he visited berth of his lady friend
who lives in the langhorne area
haggled with Gambone builders
   to pocket a *** of cash
resigned immeasurable

   blood, sweat and tears all for naught,
nor without Miley Cyrus astride
   the demolition destroyer
which hundred year old mansion
once a stately summer resort
   (to the upscale who owned 
the Bell & Clapper),

   a respectable haven for well to do Philadelphians
whar English ivy obscured visible slated patio
upon said pseudo pier viewer proffered view
where lily padded fishpond aqua culture bounded

(where froggy went a court'n
   hopping tubby a prince) below decks
which once renown estate
accrued facade as mere dark shadow 
sitting like a charade along,

   the outer limits of the twilight zone 
casting shadowy silhouettes, 
   sans lovely bones the edge of night
versus former vestige of former radiant glory
prompted this prodigal son to be somber and brood
perchance never to set my eyes, whereat 

no artisan gentrified abode of vested gentry 
thus, debilitating, hunkering,
   and landing plain trampled
so much uniqueness expended viz zit by the hands 

of thine extraordinarily dexterous
   hands of me papa,
who spent immeasurable energy
and countless precious blocks of time 
to gentrify, mend and rescue
   from natural degradation

(whence thee bell tolled the hour
   maws gouged gored a gaping hole 
from this fixer upper, 
   the entire complex edifice
Like fate of humpty Dumpty

   did crumble and fall 
vis a vis, our own Roman version
Thence, my father removed a sign
passersby (whether on foot or via auto de fe), 
would never know, nor glance to read

historical indication, viz the original occupants 
i.e. captain Leiper, and listed in registry
steered his shipshape tract titled "Glen Elm",
a vast vibrant 100 + green acres
before dilapidated home
   listlessly lumbered ponderously

with nary hub buyer shaking hands at acceptable price
thus, the sad outcome as indicated above
mine dada did agreed
   on a deal with contractor 
who bought scrappy spit of land

Acres bandied crumbs
   dealt enough finances "bread"
hence (as explained)
   by the end of November 2012 
demolition crews 
   bull dozed childhood crucible
   of memories without fail.
Lou Nov 2017
I am an anorexic with a gluttonous mouth for bad table manners and my own feet.
I relate to 364 licks to the center of the tootsie pop to only find out it was just dirt and high fructose corn syrup.
Like my personality it is a disappointment. Maybe the world would of been better to let this one go.
C'est la vie my family, whom leaves me at the table with a cold meal I refuse to acknowledge as food.
My father's own teachings red on my face and my mother's lessons bleeding from my ears. Welcome to church today we will be eating the lord.

Cause I feel something must fill me more than nihilism which by nature fills me with nothing but more space for my lack of motivation and self deprecating.
I need to be nothing so I must eat just that.
I want to save someone so they can eat me one day.
If I gave myself up to be eaten on Sunday's due to lack of interest in feeding myself,
I'll put a spin on my suicide and say its for my followers.
I wonder what I would taste like.  
Arrogantly I'll claim myself as zesty a flavor of Passover dinner or just Christ. I can picture the burning cross on the sauce bottle.
I'd eat it.
But I may have consumed so much of Christ's body and blood, I must be what I eat.
I wanna be the devil in deserts of my passions.
The fats that I was told not to indulge just for me to steal and hide under my grandmother's shadow without shame as did Lucifer.

"For my sake", she would say,
Force fed in line to ingest the breast and white meat of Jesus with no seasoning. Just gross.
That token of him a flake disk ******* of Bible versus and boxed wine, the same meal to have fed a congregation.
A congregation that must have starved and ate each other to really live, that's probably how we have Catholicism.
My halo childhood head would crave the cheap red dry and knew what the point was to drink his veins and get drunk off of me.
I was fed not my saviors life but my-self lie, placed into my mouth as a tasteless disciple, cannibalizing my identity for salvation.
"Save me", is a phrase I never said,
Cause I thought I was made in his image.
"Feed me", was more like it.
as I chomped on my fingertips and hair.
So I conclude I must be passover for I have been eating myself.
And I am not zesty.
I'm boring and salty like I would be later on.
Chopping from the branches of trees low hanging meat,
hearts and hands boiled into my idle grip cauldron. All theories and none of it stone soup for anyone's soul.
What useless things are my hands without knifes and forks.
I am simply their slave as I was to my addictions to eating saviors.
Now I'm useless, godless and starving.

Gandhi was bony, spicy and tasted like young women.
Crowley tasted like young boys and patchouli
LaVey was chewy dark meat but too Gainey for me
And Nietzsche...Nietzsche was good,
in spite of the syphilis just not enough to go around.
Had to overcome that man.
I tried just about everything to cure my hungry nihilism.
I've binged on fortunes from cookies that have more faith in me than I have in myself. Sentiment in sugar, not so sweet but bland and stale as my eyes and heart.
Confucianism is a light diet kind to nature but I am not willing to share my plate nor am I that kind.

My teeth still picking saviors out.
The taste of the lamb of god hasn't washed out of mouth for years
I tried to burn it out with the devils fruit but its just humanities ******* in a gardening hose blasted in my mouth.
I can still hear the nails on my dinner plate go into his wrists,
the blood being dropped on  marble as the nuns lashes crack me,
To lick it off the basilicas floor.
I am the last at my families table undecided to starve at a feast of philosophy.
Or gnaw on the bones of those I already ate.
I'm certain with a good cookbook of my creation,
with remnants left over of condiment hymns,
two slices of existential crisis,
One molded cheese of absurd ideas
and a garden of seeds I planted from the bowels of dead Messiah's.
I will have a meal.
One that maybe you all would like to partake in.
Em Dec 2018
A mosquito chomped me!
It hurt, so I got mad at it.
I shooed and swatted it away,
over and over again,
but it wouldn't leave!

Minute after minute
Swat after swat
Mr. Mosquito went splat
And a small wave of victory overcame my hurt.
Small.

The chomp was still there
but the mosquito wasn't
Did my revenge really make a difference?
went for a more childish style
eh take it as u will
leave me alon
Pettiness can hurt :)
Nat Lipstadt Apr 21
~for all the old poets,
especially one so denominated, my old faithful friend…~
<>

the
THEY,
emboldened and italicized,

are whispering and whimpering,
even
whining
that I’ve gone
wimpy,
lost possess of mine
facilities and faculties,
no longer able and capable
to command, demand, in hand,
import
a decent poem
from & in the English language(s) to
purport,

lost my edges,
hide behind the hedges
of inconsequential ancestral
and incestual rhymes,

these
THEY
do oft appear as voices in my
now emptied and unemployed head,
but familiarity breeds contemporary
contretemps of contempt,
for they are remiss,
in dismiss when the eyelids
flutter,
the noble temporal lobes
mutter,
’tis thy~thyme ole man,
for spillage of your

FPOTD
(first poem of the day)
thus kneecapping the cancer
of a restless dark hour period
where failures and faults,
of lines
crossed and uncrossed,
bear you to pieces,
bare your lifetime
laundry list
of pulsing, palpable,
fulminating and always ruminating faults
of which penance cannot be bought
by the bags of pennies and sordid assorted coins
that THEY
will find in the back bottom of thine closets,
along with the manuscripts
of the discarded and forlorn,
unloved and unpublished poems that you chose
to have buried with you,

lest you think that
eternal rest
will best
them voices,
they will accompany you
to permafrost of forever dark,
their once and future demise,
a travesty of
justice…

enough.

lists of to do’s;
the exercise of delaying death
for one more day,
by trodding on the treadmill
that postpones the inevitable
that can
always tun longer and faster
and cannot be outdone, outrun,
but
this poem
disgorged and disbanded,
it’s bytes,
will not bite mark me
in the forever future
their bytes are alive now,
free to be chomped and well chewed,
and once fully digested,
be return to our Mother
Earth

where some disclaimed poems
go to be buried
within it’s eternity
Without further ado
i offer my literary missives anew
fur ye to ponder and brew
from meister mwm of his motley crue,
whom dwells in a nada very complex edifice
which numb burr oof offspring equals deux
whereby this spouse i.e me kind of resembles an emu
whence money a edified reader considers
dis goy wit sum brain cells 2 few
chomped on by an carnivorous elder gnu
and said two female progeny sired
from one ova plus super seminal glue

swimming swiftly via viscous hue
genetic heritage comprised predominantly Jew
with one late uncle Lou,
who himself wed a milch cow,  she frequently did moo
which found me to rue
what comprises reality to be true
that all humans originated from the primate zoo.

**** Sapiens Sale hums lot
witnessed vicious thermal winds that blew
thick mass of cremated ashes
across rubble strewn,
and severely cratered landscape!

The devil made mince meat
as like one huge lumbering ogre
and grim reaper
rolled up into one
not so jolly green giant did slay
good will to all men,
and spat out pox with an emphatic nay
triumphing over godly salvation
using eponymous accursed pitchfork
made merry and rolled in the hay

simultaneously sneering out in delight
at wanton death and decay
whereby civilization forever mutilated
perforated said spindled
and inappropriately sensually fondled
world wide web structure
where once proud arm strong spikes radiated
now sundered in total chaotic disarray!
nivek Sep 2014
puke and puke again
how much did I eat?
I chomped and chewed it all
swallowed it down with  barrels of laughter
Bit and chewed all and ever after
smiled at those who would bring me into their circle
and what a circle it was
More square than any squared could be
I stood, a Poet, unknown, in the midst,
In the very centre, and puked, all I could puke
Jay earnest Jun 2020
The next day I decided to go to my friend Pat's house, I practically lived there and even had a bed in his room, why his family tolerated it I don't know. But I'd be there around five days out of the seven - it was my sanctuary.
"Yo Pat, I'm coming over"
"Ok, seeya in 15" and I'd be there in 15.
And he was also of legal age to buy alcohol which I still couldn't at that point; he always bought me all the Mickeys and Steel Reserves I wanted.
"yo Pat, can you get me some *** ****?"
"That **** again? Alright be right back"
And he'd go out and get it for me, why I don't know considering he rarely drank.
And he had a cool hookah set-up which I'd buy the flavors for so I think that was the trade-off. We smoked that **** for hours, and got horrible nicotine highs and were basically asthmatic after inhaling all of that vapor, but it was something to do, and we'd even invite our Turkish friend over, Babook.
Babook thought he was black and liked to argue hip-hop and would quickly wear out his welcome but he provided some amusement we thought.
"KANYE WEST IS THE GOAT OF RAP NO CAP FAM"
He would say all these phrases that in 2012 were very corny and try-hard but now are part of the youth-vernacular
"bro, Babook, what the **** does "GOAT" mean?" I'd say.
"The Greatest of all time fam. And he is, Kanye slayed with that Dark Twisted fantasy fam, and don't get me started on Graduation fam"
Fam, fam, fam, fam, fam, fam. I hated him.
And he would tug at the hookah and spill the coals on the deck like a ***** and Pat's dad would inevitably come out in his drunken slumber and yell at us.
"WHO DROPPED THE ******* COALS ON THE DECK? YOU PUNKS, CLEAN IT UP!" He would yell while wobbling around and then would stick his wineglass out.
"PAT, FILL HER UP. I'M HALF-EMPTY"
"Dad, you drank 3 bottles today"
"****** FILL IT UP *******!" He'd yell, with his big inflamed tomato nose, and greasy pores which oozed out all of the alcohol from his system.
Pat filled the glass to the brim and it started to overflow.
"AND DON'T HIDE IT FROM ME YA LITTLE PUNK OR I'LL KICK YOUR ***" he'd finally say while wobbling back to bed and sleeping like a corpse in 2 in the afternoon. I felt bad for him. He'd had a hard life. He lost his wife early, or Pat's mother, so I couldn't blame him. He was a very funny guy too for the most part, but his drinking was out of control.
      Eventually Babook got bored and decided to leave after dropping some more coals, and Pat's dog George skittered out from the corner. He licked my toes. He was a pitbull but a big *****. He'd get taken by Ryder, the little rat-terrier chijauaja every night and it had changed him I think. But George loved scritches on his head, and he loved biscuits of which I gave him plently. I ****** on my berry hookah, and he chomped on his biscuits.
It would've been more interesting if an errant flock of wrens did it. Did you see it happen? Poached eggs, up to 18 per day, cures Alzheimer's Disease as eggs supply the cholesterol needed to rebuild shrunken brain cortex; cortex shrunken by statin (blood-fat reducing) drugs. Hillary Clinton just craps in a bucket & throws the contents of the bucket out the kitchen window when nobody's watching.
J Aug 2017
Chomped Down
Hard man,
Timex change,
And I'm cut to pieces.
Time and again.
Its ******* funny,
How people
With their .......................
Gamex ....... Think that they could control me man.
But I'm cut off and jammed for all time now man.
Thatx it then....
Please God let the time pass quickly,
So I can get up again.
This is the most difficult time I've ever had. .... I was so close too.
To achieving something again.
Never again though man.
Ninety years April 9th 1929
after maiden USA début
hoop fully more than a few
remain, a filial connection
I can cultivate and hew

cuz, the ghost o' me late
mother, would be Jew
(red eye with swollen tears),
bull lent beef ****, aye rue
permanent AWOL of papa,
whose paternal Zayda, I never knew!

He, pulled off a top aerospace
rocket launched secrete tete a tete
impossible mission an ace legendary
sharpshooter, sans Aaron Harris
firearms passion never did abate

spewed spear shaped ammunition
in league with the missus to create,
who no surprise hapt tubby his bedmate
launched payload with joint consent
(plus bonus) re: private effort to satiate

call of the wild hit targeted bullseye
(eggs cell lent lucky shot) did initiate
genesis nine months later begetting
an audacious, industrious, rambunctious
bouncing baby boy with black curls atop pate

christened Boyce Brandon Harris
bright eyed infant bestowed with brilliance,
brawn, and bravado quickly evinced late
tent smarts landed lad admittance schools
geared to those who did accelerate

with mathematics and sciences, which
positive accolades since a lil whippersnapper
family and academicians did accentuate,
thus stellar classroom dedication, diligence
dogged nose to grindstone did accommodate

him being courted by prestigious storied
halls of education kickstarting promising
future and adequate income to accumulate
ample to live comfortably within middle

class economic (March madness) bracket,
and provided basic creature comforts fate
blessed him, and Harriet Harris nee Kuritsky
with this sole son and two daughters, I advocate
as exemplary siblings (despite) contention,
which required lifetime to agglomerate,

and estranged relationship with me father
coalescing into pleasant raport, adolescent
chomped at the bit, and
did fidget, cower, and alienate
experienced palpable tension
as though a "FAKE" wall,
I could not eradicate!
Mild dystopian cracks open
cobwebbed laden figurative door
to my super charged
subconscious shrouded self -
portal carelessly left ajar
steeped in dark shadows,

wherein spooky monsters creep
along edge of night,
outer limits of twilight zone
serve as makeshift restraining: bar
21st century alchemist busily massages
a fictional holographic projection
to contemplate car

re: ying the terrestrial firmament
into spasms of expiration, which whim far
fetched since the following conjecture
contrived within overactive imagination
of yours truly - such peculiar notions par
for the course sans striving

to become adroit
teasing out ethereal material
analogous to embrace
plasma up holding star
reed cosmic funereal invocation
loosing prognostication silencing war.

So without further ado
I offer to continue
embellishing literary above
iterated missive anew
for ye to ponder and brew
from a mister wordsmith
comprising wife as counterpart
complimenting beastie boy
aptly named duo motley crue,

whereat dwells within complex edifice
housing he who begat
offspring numbered uno and deux,
whereby this husbandly spouse i.e me
resembles a cross eyed
cryptogram solver
geeky long haired pencil necked geek
artificially inseminated yik yak
with fertilized egg of emu

unbeknownst to many edified readers
might consider myself brain cells few
explainable from being
chomped on by a carnivorous oldish gnu,
nevertheless unaffecting ability
to sire female progeny
re: guarding biological process
concerning human reproduction
viz ova linkedin with seminal glue

swimming swiftly via viscous hue
biological processes extant
from equator far north
to Inuit housed in igloo
nonetheless, genetic heritage
comprised predominantly of Jew
genealogy heritage indeed
Ask Jeeves, cuz he knew
with one very late Uncle Lou

who suffered mad cow disease,
and considered hims
a milch cow and frequently did moo
calf full when bovine brand new
which found me to rue
what comprises reality to be true
that all humans originated
from the primate zoo.
Hislizard Nov 2020
Withing four walls
Her agony echoed
Fingers dug in the upholstery
Leaving oval marks

White replaced black
The grip on both loosened
Caramel was chomped and chewed on
If only it lasted longer

Ere it was seen
She heard
Her agony echoed
Within four walls
Solitude breeds malignant nemesis
couched as woe seated heavily
within mine angst
riddled quavering psyche
blinding clairvoyance
debilitates enthusiastic frequency
wavelengths propagate unfounded
probable future destitution

predicated upon intractable lifetime mired
within groveling penuriousness
"dirt poor" accursed fate
pervaded plentiful not ready
for prime time playing years
repercussions long fostered anguish,
when offspring begot
(particularly the whip smart eldest)

she jockeyed herself as winner
with good n plenti horsesense
chomped at the bit, albeit figuratively,
when aforementioned progeny
attained age of awareness
underscored by livingsocial
in the horn of plenty
regarding estates generally

dripping exuberant wealth,
where plush domiciles within MainLine
accentuated luckless financial pitfall,
asper yours truly afflicted mental illness
mine generalized anxiety, panic,
obsessive compulsive disorder...
ascribed to existence squandered,
nee imprisoned impenetrable prison

found me captive undermining
ordinary healthy development
sabotaging approximately five decades
constituting better part sans mein kampf,
which total three plus score orbitz,
yet far and away psychologically afflicted
nsync and linkedin with
emotional, mental, and social trauma

(learning difficulty compounded
dilemma repercussions extant today),
now healthily sublimated,
courtesy painful pubescent exhumation
poetry metier write
cathartic, holistic, narcotic...
plus weekly therapy sessions
also exercise in toto with meditation

supplements summoning forth
inner Wizard of Oz
to traverse cratered abysmal pits
gingerly sidestepping death traps
awash with skeletal wreckage
indelible scars perforating
air supply condemning me
aging baby boomer nsync

lead zeppelin plunges
corporeal essence gripped
stranglehold asphyxiates
sputtering torturous undulations
irrepressibly avast impossible mission
livingsocial counter intuitive
rather hermetically sealed simian
accustomed himself being alone.

— The End —