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"clubbing" poems
She wears t-shirts of the Beatles And she loves the Rolling Stones She wakes up to David Bowie And she dreams of the Ramones She goes out to dance clubs nightly Till her ear drums both get blown But, she has a deep dark secret That her friends will never know At night when she is by herself When the room is nice and dark She slips beneath the covers With Johann Sebastian Bach She's a closet classic ****** And her name is Amber Clark She just loves orchestral music The rock and roll is just a lark Her friends think something classical Is something for your folks They cannot play an instrument They cannot read the notes They think that  chamber music is What people play on boats But she has a deep dark secret She loves the stuff that Chopin wrote At night when she is by herself And her friends have gotten ****** She slips beneath the covers And she listens to some Liszt She listens to it many times In case there's things she's missed She's a closet classic ****** She has "Baroque" upon her wrist She listens to the music That her friends like to be cool If she told them what she listens to They'd laugh her out of school So, when they go out  clubbing She will join them as a rule But...ah that deep dark secret This girl is no ones fool She listens to Beethoven And she knows each piece by heart She knows where one bar ends And another one will start She can play most every instrument And she knows most every part She's a classic closet ****** But she still knows Boyce and Hart She has cds in her library And most sit there untouched When her friends are gone they don't get played She doesn't like them much She would rather hear a symphony By a composter who was Dutch But there's that deep dark secret And she won't use it a crutch At night when she is warm in bed She listens to Mozart She needs a little Nacht Musique To open up her heart It's a piece that sets her mind a blaze It hits her like a dart She's a closet classic ****** And she keeps her worlds apart By day she sings Bruce Springsteen At night she listens to Composers that her friends don't know They're so old they're new So she keeps her world a secret For she knows what they would do If they found she didn't know Where were you in sixty two But at night she is a ****** And she listens to Mozart She needs that piece of music To shoot an arrow through her heart Eine Kleine Nachmusic She conducts every part She's our Closet Classic ****** shhh.....the song's about to start...
0
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
Closet Classic ****** - (The Street - poem 4)
She wears t-shirts of the Beatles And she loves the Rolling Stones She wakes up to David Bowie And she dreams of the Ramones She goes out to dance clubs nightly Till her ear drums both get blown But, she has a deep dark secret That her friends will never know At night when she is by herself When the room is nice and dark She slips beneath the covers With Johann Sebastian Bach She's a closet classic ****** And her name is Amber Clark She just loves orchestral music The rock and roll is just a lark Her friends think something classical Is something for your folks They cannot play an instrument They cannot read the notes They think that  chamber music is What people play on boats But she has a deep dark secret She loves the stuff that Chopin wrote At night when she is by herself And her friends have gotten ****** She slips beneath the covers And she listens to some Liszt She listens to it many times In case there's things she's missed She's a closet classic ****** She has "Baroque" upon her wrist She listens to the music That her friends like to be cool If she told them what she listens to They'd laugh her out of school So, when they go out  clubbing She will join them as a rule But...ah that deep dark secret This girl is no ones fool She listens to Beethoven And she knows each piece by heart She knows where one bar ends And another one will start She can play most every instrument And she knows most every part She's a classic closet ****** But she still knows Boyce and Hart She has cds in her library And most sit there untouched When her friends are gone they don't get played She doesn't like them much She would rather hear a symphony By a composter who was Dutch But there's that deep dark secret And she won't use it a crutch At night when she is warm in bed She listens to Mozart She needs a little Nacht Musique To open up her heart It's a piece that sets her mind a blaze It hits her like a dart She's a closet classic ****** And she keeps her worlds apart By day she sings Bruce Springsteen At night she listens to Composers that her friends don't know They're so old they're new So she keeps her world a secret For she knows what they would do If they found she didn't know Where were you in sixty two But at night she is a ****** And she listens to Mozart She needs that piece of music To shoot an arrow through her heart Eine Kleine Nachmusic She conducts every part She's our Closet Classic ****** shhh.....the song's about to start...
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80
Walked out on it all, mid-life crisis taken hold, Done nothing but work, pay tax, time to be bold. Dyed hair, had an affair, went clubbing once more, Tried *** in a Maserati but got it caught in the door. Didn’t think it through. Did all but one thing on my bucket list, Travelled, explored and got endlessly ****** No happier, alone, one half of a whole, Ruined it all by having no self-control. Didn’t think it through. Revenge on her mind she accepted me back, Wife threatened me with “back, sack and crack”, Totally livid, intent on harmful litigation, In the end made me pay for her breast augmentation. She didn’t think it through.
0
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 10:05 AM UTC
Didn’t Think It Through
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly, it proceeds to massage my spectacles, rinsing the grime away from my eyes, there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals, but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter, I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast, but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak, impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him, as I trek my way further into this metropolis, I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction, it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
0
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
Unworldy Newborn
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly, it proceeds to massage my spectacles, rinsing the grime away from my eyes, there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals, but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter, I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast, but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak, impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him, as I trek my way further into this metropolis, I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction, it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
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12
*********** - thoughts sought, taught and wrought, aggressive games. Fighting clubbing sick, Afghanistan camouflage. .
0
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 8:49 AM UTC
Tanka of Testosterone
...and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a sound? ________________________ My poetry performed— before a crowd of johnny-jump-ups Their faces toward me in unison— they listen Intense, motionless energy Velvet applause of purple and Yellow yelling! Encore of performing in the perfume with a troop of lilacs They will remember me While I— await their return to May through billowing miles of drowsing sachet breathing euphorias between the lingerie of clouds What happens after ecstasy? Grieving in life’s presence? Loss of mind to self-possession? _________________ ...and when my sense of smell gives out I will hold on for a while to the walker of hearing trying not to stumble past the song of thrush beyond me in the blurring leaves once so clearly— crinkled, shiny, and infant green…. _____________ As a child I held on to nothing for dear life I could cup a storm in my hands! Could run with the rhythm of a horse! I could fly in my mind’s eye if the ferns I used were only wings! If I pretended hard enough I could eat my own home-baked mud pies! If only I could be— more than a fledgling of eight so earthbound, clumsy   _____________ But while the lilacs were out of town thunder met the flash and gutted summer! I ran for dear life! from the amazing distance of its echoes pelted by its gentle gift Snagged by growing things— the clinging prattle of their momentous tendrils....   ______________ Lovers run off the path past water lilies along the swollen veins to the river toward a grave and pounding heart The Ancient Flood was jealous.... Now when the wind softens and rain is tossed last, and only from the leaves may their encore be cupped in the hands of some passer-by Remembering— that either because of a trifling wind or the weight of time... a tree fell here clubbing the river’s bank senseless
0
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
If a Tree Falls
...and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a sound? ________________________ My poetry performed— before a crowd of johnny-jump-ups Their faces toward me in unison— they listen Intense, motionless energy Velvet applause of purple and Yellow yelling! Encore of performing in the perfume with a troop of lilacs They will remember me While I— await their return to May through billowing miles of drowsing sachet breathing euphorias between the lingerie of clouds What happens after ecstasy? Grieving in life’s presence? Loss of mind to self-possession? _________________ ...and when my sense of smell gives out I will hold on for a while to the walker of hearing trying not to stumble past the song of thrush beyond me in the blurring leaves once so clearly— crinkled, shiny, and infant green…. _____________ As a child I held on to nothing for dear life I could cup a storm in my hands! Could run with the rhythm of a horse! I could fly in my mind’s eye if the ferns I used were only wings! If I pretended hard enough I could eat my own home-baked mud pies! If only I could be— more than a fledgling of eight so earthbound, clumsy   _____________ But while the lilacs were out of town thunder met the flash and gutted summer! I ran for dear life! from the amazing distance of its echoes pelted by its gentle gift Snagged by growing things— the clinging prattle of their momentous tendrils....   ______________ Lovers run off the path past water lilies along the swollen veins to the river toward a grave and pounding heart The Ancient Flood was jealous.... Now when the wind softens and rain is tossed last, and only from the leaves may their encore be cupped in the hands of some passer-by Remembering— that either because of a trifling wind or the weight of time... a tree fell here clubbing the river’s bank senseless
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69
I'm the type of person who can either sit by herself under a weeping willow Reading quietly or writing poetry about life being an inside inferno, Or who can go clubbing with her friends, get drunk and show up at 5 in the morning. That's me, I either spend my day being in an immense joy, or spend it mourning. I'm the type of person who is everything and its contrary, I can fall in love with the same person whom I hated yesterday, I can forgive in two seconds someone at whom I've been angry I can be strongly willing to leave, and then I suddenly decide to stay. Once I realised I wasn't in love with the person I had been waiting for, two years after And realised at the same second that I wanted the person I had just lost. My brain and heart didn't quite agree with each other, But now it's to late to get back the girl I love the most. One minute someone's my best friend, then she gets on my nerves One minute I really want something, then I just change my mind, One minute I find myself pretty, then I suddenly hate my curves One minute I wanna open my eyes to the reality of the world, then I wish I was blind. I suddenly realise why some people can't see me, I'm so hard to live with, too difficult to stand, I'm actually working on myself to be the person I want to be, Because if I don't react, she's not coming back, ya'll understand ? To all the Lost souls wandering around the Earth, If you have problems, believe me they all come from you. You'll have to give your life another chance, a rebirth, Otherwise you'll be the person you never wanted to.
0
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Nevermind the Lost ones.
I'm the type of person who can either sit by herself under a weeping willow Reading quietly or writing poetry about life being an inside inferno, Or who can go clubbing with her friends, get drunk and show up at 5 in the morning. That's me, I either spend my day being in an immense joy, or spend it mourning. I'm the type of person who is everything and its contrary, I can fall in love with the same person whom I hated yesterday, I can forgive in two seconds someone at whom I've been angry I can be strongly willing to leave, and then I suddenly decide to stay. Once I realised I wasn't in love with the person I had been waiting for, two years after And realised at the same second that I wanted the person I had just lost. My brain and heart didn't quite agree with each other, But now it's to late to get back the girl I love the most. One minute someone's my best friend, then she gets on my nerves One minute I really want something, then I just change my mind, One minute I find myself pretty, then I suddenly hate my curves One minute I wanna open my eyes to the reality of the world, then I wish I was blind. I suddenly realise why some people can't see me, I'm so hard to live with, too difficult to stand, I'm actually working on myself to be the person I want to be, Because if I don't react, she's not coming back, ya'll understand ? To all the Lost souls wandering around the Earth, If you have problems, believe me they all come from you. You'll have to give your life another chance, a rebirth, Otherwise you'll be the person you never wanted to.
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24
I. Summer pictures litter her walls Glitter infestations Second grade yearbook And a signed portrait of that one indie celebrity. What’s his name? Jimi Hendrix? Or Rob the Bone Crusher? Was it that guy from New England? With the Iced Tea, and the apartment? You know that really, really big condo. II. in 1995 you were all hot and heavy ******* and bumping in the clubs Sinking your teeth into whatever Or whoever you could find Like ****** and some of that crystal **** You said you liked the way it felt When it ran down your veins III. I remember the nights you cried You said you’d feel this way forever And I said well…probably. IV. 7 AM, you’re still out clubbing. Out on the streets like a little hoodlum Looking for your fix in the alleys Of a suburb of your suburb of Minneapolis. Anything you can shoot, smoke, snort or swallow You’re down.
0
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
Untitled
The good girl stays home The good girl cooks and cleans The good girl has kids The good girl watches you go clubbing The good girl watches you lie and believes The good girl sets her life aside to please you The good girl knows NO better One thing you don't know about the good girl SHE GOT SOMETHING PLANNED FOR YOU For she is now a Women That will no longer except BULL ****
0
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
GOOD GIRL
got so drunk at their little, ahem, initiation ceremony: drank a bottle of whiskey when i heard we were going clubbing wearing lycra shorts... the man with the biggest bulge and the biggest stick... never understood male group psychology... or any group psychology for that matter... it isn't exactly a throng of noblemen following Henry VIII. i joined the lacrosse university team for a bit, left it when the time came to buy the equipment - i didn't think getting smacked by the defenders' longer sticks was worth it, to be a striker with the shortest stick - too physical - i thought i'd seek some other physicality, got stuck-up on rock climbing, and mountaineering for a while, nothing serious, a bit of easy bouldering on the edinbrugh crag, the one lining the skyline at holyrood park, the salisbury crag, just west of arthur's seat - i'm not going to lie about clinging off the matterhorn or something - but i did an expedition with the mountaineering club near Ben Nevis once... Glen Coe / Coire nan Lochan... and i figured, with all this talk of light pollution, well, "pollution", to think that a bunch of street lamps can blind away the stars of what former poets spoke of: about the illumination of the heavens for the blind eye to see... we camped outside one bothy (basic shelter) set off fireworks, drank whiskey, played music, burnt a fire in the bothy... but to be honest... i was not amused by this whole theory of light pollution... i looked up at the sky, and the number of stars was no greater than the number seen in a bright lit city... i know they say all those telescopes amplify the chance of peering into the heavens at night and see more stars... but why cite light pollution, when, in a remote highland hideout the number of stars didn't increase in number... i've heard a girl from australia cite that, in the outback she said more stars could be seen... even without a telescope... so the scottish highlands are unlike the australian outback? is it just me... or is it simply ******** this whole light pollution argument? it was dark out there like in an **** after black coffee and charcoal tablets.
0
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
after black coffee & charcoal tablets
got so drunk at their little, ahem, initiation ceremony: drank a bottle of whiskey when i heard we were going clubbing wearing lycra shorts... the man with the biggest bulge and the biggest stick... never understood male group psychology... or any group psychology for that matter... it isn't exactly a throng of noblemen following Henry VIII. i joined the lacrosse university team for a bit, left it when the time came to buy the equipment - i didn't think getting smacked by the defenders' longer sticks was worth it, to be a striker with the shortest stick - too physical - i thought i'd seek some other physicality, got stuck-up on rock climbing, and mountaineering for a while, nothing serious, a bit of easy bouldering on the edinbrugh crag, the one lining the skyline at holyrood park, the salisbury crag, just west of arthur's seat - i'm not going to lie about clinging off the matterhorn or something - but i did an expedition with the mountaineering club near Ben Nevis once... Glen Coe / Coire nan Lochan... and i figured, with all this talk of light pollution, well, "pollution", to think that a bunch of street lamps can blind away the stars of what former poets spoke of: about the illumination of the heavens for the blind eye to see... we camped outside one bothy (basic shelter) set off fireworks, drank whiskey, played music, burnt a fire in the bothy... but to be honest... i was not amused by this whole theory of light pollution... i looked up at the sky, and the number of stars was no greater than the number seen in a bright lit city... i know they say all those telescopes amplify the chance of peering into the heavens at night and see more stars... but why cite light pollution, when, in a remote highland hideout the number of stars didn't increase in number... i've heard a girl from australia cite that, in the outback she said more stars could be seen... even without a telescope... so the scottish highlands are unlike the australian outback? is it just me... or is it simply ******** this whole light pollution argument? it was dark out there like in an **** after black coffee and charcoal tablets.
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44
I don't think you get how difficult this is for me. Do you? At home, I can never be alone, always around my family because they are convinced I am a danger to myself and they have to keep constant watch over me. It's more like I'm trapped. I do not feel cared for, or loved (even though they do) but it feels like a prison where privacy and solitude no longer exist. On campus, I cannot be myself. This writer, poet, loner, silent girl who only speaks to people who seem decent or whom initiates a conversation because she is too scared to do it herself. This insecure girl who must now change to acquire friendship, company. She only wants to be liked, accepted, and to belong. **** on Wednesday, clubbing, flings, shisha. I do not understand why it takes so much to have a friend that would stay. I smoke, and that would be the limit, but my loneliness begs for so much more. In public, I want to just shout out who I am and who I could really be. I want to walk up to strangers and spark up a conversation of similar interest. Ask how they're doing, or if their family is well. Let them know I could be their friend and allow them to cry on my shoulder about the trauma they've been through. But I cannot. No one smiles when I smile at them, they only walk faster and turn their heads away. Why is it that simple acts of kindness or just friendliness can be such a disgusting and rare thing? When I'm alone, I can be myself. I can cry and shout and sing and write and dance and do stupid things. I can smoke and laugh and scribble and put on make-up and take selfies while no one's watching. I can be at my worst, and I can be my best when I'm alone. It's a blessing and a curse but it's solitude which I treasure so much. It's funny how much I crave companionship; a friend, a partner, a love interest. Yet, I wish to be alone. Why is that?
0
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
stuck.
I don't think you get how difficult this is for me. Do you? At home, I can never be alone, always around my family because they are convinced I am a danger to myself and they have to keep constant watch over me. It's more like I'm trapped. I do not feel cared for, or loved (even though they do) but it feels like a prison where privacy and solitude no longer exist. On campus, I cannot be myself. This writer, poet, loner, silent girl who only speaks to people who seem decent or whom initiates a conversation because she is too scared to do it herself. This insecure girl who must now change to acquire friendship, company. She only wants to be liked, accepted, and to belong. **** on Wednesday, clubbing, flings, shisha. I do not understand why it takes so much to have a friend that would stay. I smoke, and that would be the limit, but my loneliness begs for so much more. In public, I want to just shout out who I am and who I could really be. I want to walk up to strangers and spark up a conversation of similar interest. Ask how they're doing, or if their family is well. Let them know I could be their friend and allow them to cry on my shoulder about the trauma they've been through. But I cannot. No one smiles when I smile at them, they only walk faster and turn their heads away. Why is it that simple acts of kindness or just friendliness can be such a disgusting and rare thing? When I'm alone, I can be myself. I can cry and shout and sing and write and dance and do stupid things. I can smoke and laugh and scribble and put on make-up and take selfies while no one's watching. I can be at my worst, and I can be my best when I'm alone. It's a blessing and a curse but it's solitude which I treasure so much. It's funny how much I crave companionship; a friend, a partner, a love interest. Yet, I wish to be alone. Why is that?
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6
Happy birthday Yasmin, my precious friend, My love for you, I wish to extend. Experiences filled, with joy and laughter, Special memories, we shall recall after. From the beginning, you made me smile, Accepted me, without any trial. Never judged or jumped to conclusions, Exciting friendship; random infusions. I cannot ask, for anything more, So many things, I simply adore. Hope this birthday never ends, In my heart, time transcends. No more fake I.D, you’re legal to go clubbing at last, All the worry of getting in, left in the past. So Happy 18th Birthday, my special friend, Good times await us, just round the bend.
0
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
Happy Birthday, Yasmin
Fly so fast the years they do and my mind is not as once it was, forgetting things such as dates and names and going round as though I´m lost, in every room I stop and wonder why did I come in here, what is it, that I´m looking for, not a clue I fear. Have you seen my reading glasses Yes! she says, you´ve got them on your head, and what about my car keys I´ve looked everywhere, including in the shed, and when I bend, why is it that I always grunt and groan, and my back today, is not the best of backs I am so racked with aches and pains. My eyesight´s not as sharp these days and my hearing, Sorry, what d´you say, no longer do I walk upright and my thinning hair is turning grey, but although the body´s ageing and the memory´s fading fast, my brain still thinks I´m eighteen and I can do things, as I did in the past. So I´m off to run a marathon and the channel I shall swim and when I get home from clubbing I´ll be heading for the gym, I´ve parked my zimmer in the corner and my pillows I have plumped, the douvet I have pulled up tight as I start to snore and dream, and trump.
0
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Ageing, But Not So Gracefully
i couldn't stand the heat, spent most of the time in the shade, everyone made fun of the guy standing by the pool reading a book, pretending to be a sundial; i was called the whiskey-man; one night i slept outside and by the time i woke up my glass of brandy disappeared; mingled with the "auctioneers" of a good time; boy one of those kenyan girls was hot... oomph, she looked like oiled coal, slimy bits and raw *** i know i was a tourist... played a stupid drinking game with two english girls, snogged one at the end of the game, wasn't invited back to the room for a ********* spent hours at night looking at the tide splashing the shore, cried at the painting so alive all the museums and galleries became graveyards of appreciation; it was a holiday resort, i admit, although one bartender asked me to do a local tour of the place, go clubbing, supposedly a colonial ******* i was upon first reading; but the heat though! god almighty, couldn't stand the temperature, i was literally an ice-cream cone most of the time, took to the shades, wrote a short story for my grandfather about an elephant dunking his trunk into a bottle of brandy... one day got chatting to a scottish pair and a russian couple, told the scottish guy about travis' 12 memories album, i was originally asking for a cigarette, so we drank and chatted about mickey mouse politics of america... the scottish guy eventually ran off and jumped into the kids' shallow pool veering on blind-drunk-happy... another time i too jumped into a pool with my clothes on... ******* this heat... ha, hmm, those kenyan macaques were funny esp. on prompt of being fed on the balcony... but boy that baboon was a menace, a real anarchist, charged in like a donkey with meningitis and stole food... although one baboon had massive haemorrhoids... and given his fat pinky *** it was even funnier to watch. oh yeah, and this guy muhammad wanted to take me to a crocodile sanctuary of his... i sort of refused the invitation, and no, i didn't go on the zoological escapade of a safari to see the Masai tribesmen... just gave c. g. jung's modern man in search of soul to one of the caretakers of the resort.
0
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
while in kenya
i couldn't stand the heat, spent most of the time in the shade, everyone made fun of the guy standing by the pool reading a book, pretending to be a sundial; i was called the whiskey-man; one night i slept outside and by the time i woke up my glass of brandy disappeared; mingled with the "auctioneers" of a good time; boy one of those kenyan girls was hot... oomph, she looked like oiled coal, slimy bits and raw *** i know i was a tourist... played a stupid drinking game with two english girls, snogged one at the end of the game, wasn't invited back to the room for a ********* spent hours at night looking at the tide splashing the shore, cried at the painting so alive all the museums and galleries became graveyards of appreciation; it was a holiday resort, i admit, although one bartender asked me to do a local tour of the place, go clubbing, supposedly a colonial ******* i was upon first reading; but the heat though! god almighty, couldn't stand the temperature, i was literally an ice-cream cone most of the time, took to the shades, wrote a short story for my grandfather about an elephant dunking his trunk into a bottle of brandy... one day got chatting to a scottish pair and a russian couple, told the scottish guy about travis' 12 memories album, i was originally asking for a cigarette, so we drank and chatted about mickey mouse politics of america... the scottish guy eventually ran off and jumped into the kids' shallow pool veering on blind-drunk-happy... another time i too jumped into a pool with my clothes on... ******* this heat... ha, hmm, those kenyan macaques were funny esp. on prompt of being fed on the balcony... but boy that baboon was a menace, a real anarchist, charged in like a donkey with meningitis and stole food... although one baboon had massive haemorrhoids... and given his fat pinky *** it was even funnier to watch. oh yeah, and this guy muhammad wanted to take me to a crocodile sanctuary of his... i sort of refused the invitation, and no, i didn't go on the zoological escapade of a safari to see the Masai tribesmen... just gave c. g. jung's modern man in search of soul to one of the caretakers of the resort.
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63
The ranch-bound bovines, in dehydration, yet wary of Kool-aid, declined to drink. They grazed in wonder, cowed rumination: where does “beef” come from?  A herd tends to think of pasturage, water, and basic needs. Ranch-hands assured them all was in order; privileged guests enjoy the finest  feeds. Cows, content on this side of the border try Buddhism, yoga – or simply gaze… though things in the distance loomed ominous (those lots at the edge of the well-hoofed ways) – and a stench wafted into their consciousness. Yet calves frolicked on while the bulls mounted heifers – dreamed vegan dreams as they nibbled grasses some earned doctorates, others went clubbing; all loosed sustainable methane gases. Soothing their calves with fables and stories where cows are the measure of pastured life they deflected the gist of the young ones’ queries, affirming that Truth means avoidance of strife. “It’s best to just graze. Don’t ask questions dear. We’re on this planet without any clue. We evolved. From just what is a little unclear – but Cow Science has proved that it’s true.”
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
When Cows Come Home
The vibration The pacing The loving The hating The spending Never ending The thoughts they keep racing The drinking The drugging The 5am clubbing The meaningless sexing The endless regretting The lying The cheating The I hate this feeling The panic No sleeping Anxiety streaming The shaking The fright The continuous night The struggle with words I just want to be heard The thoughts they're racing The thoughts they're racing The thoughts they're racing Paranoia Hallucinations It's been weeks since I've slept The walls seem to be screaming from the secrets they've kept I'm over the edge I've lost all control This madness is driving me off of the road But maybe down there I'll find some peace All I really wanted Was to go to sleep
0
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Mania
you are my sister despite the lack of blood relation mi hermana de una otra mama ok, so it doesn't rhyme but so what? remember the time we went clubbing in new cal? i felt like cinderella on the stroke of midnight... and "our" boys funny that we called them that they were never looking to be owned but we had good times together nonetheless
0
May 9, 2010
May 9, 2010 at 8:17 AM UTC
Kitty
Bruising,kicking,clubbing, chanting,ranting,yelling, from afar their judgement is pronounced, scourging,ravaging,encompassed, their foes enmassed, as their woes crawles to them. Ensnared in rageous mobbing. No attention given, Brutally abased at fraternities delight, Blood splitting, Blood gushing, sands soaks in blood, as of mud from heavy downpour, fraternities yelling,mobs cheering. As their lynching delights them all. No saviour! No mercy! Woe! Woe! Woe! They rants in accord, from their chamber miserable voices screams. Only but whispers heard, in cold fatique voices. One said i am not guilty! another said we only came to collect what he owed me! Another said i live in heaven where milk and honey flows i lack nothing,i am innocent another said yesterday i paid my tuition,i paid my dues i am innocent. In cold blooded, lynched them all. their hell fire came to them alive they were burnt they were wasted as of unwanted beasts! oh! Aluu what have you done?! Who were those innocent 4 you killed?? Don't you know the pain of mothers labour at birth?! They are not different from you they feel pain! they feel torture! they feel torment! wont you scream if i club you? won't you flee if i burn you fire?! They sought to flee they sought to hide they pled for mercy but you were their miserable nightmares! You were there foes ragging in woes massacre!!! The boys were your children they were your brothers oh! Merciless Aluu!!! What have you done to the futures untold?
0
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 4:28 AM UTC
Jungle Justice
Bruising,kicking,clubbing, chanting,ranting,yelling, from afar their judgement is pronounced, scourging,ravaging,encompassed, their foes enmassed, as their woes crawles to them. Ensnared in rageous mobbing. No attention given, Brutally abased at fraternities delight, Blood splitting, Blood gushing, sands soaks in blood, as of mud from heavy downpour, fraternities yelling,mobs cheering. As their lynching delights them all. No saviour! No mercy! Woe! Woe! Woe! They rants in accord, from their chamber miserable voices screams. Only but whispers heard, in cold fatique voices. One said i am not guilty! another said we only came to collect what he owed me! Another said i live in heaven where milk and honey flows i lack nothing,i am innocent another said yesterday i paid my tuition,i paid my dues i am innocent. In cold blooded, lynched them all. their hell fire came to them alive they were burnt they were wasted as of unwanted beasts! oh! Aluu what have you done?! Who were those innocent 4 you killed?? Don't you know the pain of mothers labour at birth?! They are not different from you they feel pain! they feel torture! they feel torment! wont you scream if i club you? won't you flee if i burn you fire?! They sought to flee they sought to hide they pled for mercy but you were their miserable nightmares! You were there foes ragging in woes massacre!!! The boys were your children they were your brothers oh! Merciless Aluu!!! What have you done to the futures untold?
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94
Your wikipedia page is as boring as you playing mage and adoring the exploring of maps and falling for traps without fighting the wight in the dungeon at night. Your life is climbing a hill with no path in sight, no one who will respond to you begging to bond so you're rubbing your wand while I'm clubbing with your blonde b*tch, which I ditch, leave behind, beyond cheeky I grind before the eyes you crave as you drop to your demise from the eye sore, pink in the stink, so vile, I smile because you didn't make a save file.
0
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 5:39 PM UTC
SkyRIP
Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers.. You know them You've seen them I hope you aren't one of them... I don't drink Not anymore For my entertainment I go to the store I go out after dinner That's when the show will start I go and watch the people Who shop at Wal-Mart Cowboy boots, a tutu, and yoga pants with *** with a muscle shirt and top hat worn by a man named REX a pair of pants just hanging a pair of crocs and leather vest with "she loves me for my money" emblazoned on the chest These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes I don't go clubbing There's no fun in that Late night trips to Wal-Mart That, is where it's at A woman dressed in plastic a man all painted blue and how many people have you seen that look like escapees from the zoo These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes Underpants, and stockings garters and blue jeans size 50 denim jumpers Stretched like skinny jeans Men wearing high heels Women wearing...well Use your imaginations From a distance you can't tell These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes Body parts free to see ******* and legs and butts And people with their little dogs The ugly, squeaky mutts We know them and we watch them Take their photos Yes....we do. dress right when you go shopping Or we may take one of you!!!
0
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
Attention...Walmart Shoppers
Attention Wal-Mart Shoppers.. You know them You've seen them I hope you aren't one of them... I don't drink Not anymore For my entertainment I go to the store I go out after dinner That's when the show will start I go and watch the people Who shop at Wal-Mart Cowboy boots, a tutu, and yoga pants with *** with a muscle shirt and top hat worn by a man named REX a pair of pants just hanging a pair of crocs and leather vest with "she loves me for my money" emblazoned on the chest These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes I don't go clubbing There's no fun in that Late night trips to Wal-Mart That, is where it's at A woman dressed in plastic a man all painted blue and how many people have you seen that look like escapees from the zoo These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes Underpants, and stockings garters and blue jeans size 50 denim jumpers Stretched like skinny jeans Men wearing high heels Women wearing...well Use your imaginations From a distance you can't tell These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people In their finest shopping clothes These are the people Yes, you know the people We've all seen the people At Wal-Mart, so it goes Body parts free to see ******* and legs and butts And people with their little dogs The ugly, squeaky mutts We know them and we watch them Take their photos Yes....we do. dress right when you go shopping Or we may take one of you!!!
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69
∅⚢☢⚧☯✰⚩✿⚥∅☢⚧☯✰⚢✿⚥☠⚩☯⚧✰ We paint your breeding world as queer and every man a closet queen. Your days like Noah’s now appear… our King arrives to crown the scene. Oh Father of progressive souls whose neo-pagan mercy reigns, bring union to fragmented wholes as lovers rattle rainbow-chains. We’re clubbing with the scribes of *** (our fairy-dusted lying press) who pay out cash for background checks while prying more and praying less. The starry heavens twinkle gay and rainbows end in gold, you know). To see it any other way would harsh our high and end the show… Your family paradigm descends upon the Roman road to hell where reproductive reason ends in demographic show-and-tell. God’s wisdom pleads in vain. What’s life when mobs are primed for anarchy – assaulting yet again Lot’s wife in Sodom’s dead democracy.
0
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Rainbow's End
Old soldiers in the firing line, Community clubbing time, Let's honour them in rhymes, Now in the vault of the unleashed, Their courage released, For the job, they were the right men, The flower of past generations, People to treasure, through the ages, In theatres of combat, such stages, Designer beers wanted here, On Anzac Day, we give them silent cheers.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
ANZAC DAY TRIBUTE
"1)..You take your girlfrend. An go clubbing,after you marry her you want to stop her from clubbing.....my brother,you think a miracle will happen?? 2)...You have 8 tribal marks ,stretch marks scattered all over your body,but you still want tatoos......aahh my frend,are you a zebra?? 3)...You be 6 feet tall,you still wear 6 inch high heels..my sister,you want to whisper to God?? 4)....You take pictures inside different types of cars,yet you go say you are not a cheater..aunty, are you a mechanic?? 5)..You gather different pictures of girls in your phone and you go expect your girl to believe you are not cheating..abeg uncle,areyou a photographer?? 6)...He gave you an engagement ring for over 5years but he never married you..my dear,are you lord of the rings? 7)...You claim you ate pizza but you go ***** Polony and vetkoek..my friend,are you. a magician?? 8)...Your girl be licking ice cream but you be drinking pure water.,.my friend,are you diabetic?? 9)..You are 18 years old and your sugar daddy be 70 years old and you go call him baby..aahh my sister,that one should be your ancestor"
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
STOP IT
Hey Guys I'm way past half time I passed The great divide of 30 More than 20 years ago I had like AIDS for decades I'm a narcoleptic And I have raving ADHD So excuse me Please If I need one or two PickMeUps Before Breakfast Brunch Lunch Dinner and Bedtime Or a man PickMeUp From the Dance floor If I go night clubbing
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 4:50 PM UTC
PickMeUp
When I heard about it I was hurt, saddened, mortified. I couldn't believe someone I remembered to be so full of life had died. I remember playing D&D; for hours at a time. I remember our characters always doing something out of line. I remember your brother (as our DM) playing a little frog to help us get back on track. I remember stealing only pens and that same little frog eraser at walmart, just to have security stop us outside and ask me for the nail polish back. I remember our photo shoot, and the picture of us standing back to back. And the one that looked like you were staring at my shirt, we all had a big laugh about that. I remember when you and I became close, and were together almost everyday. I remember how reckless we were, but wasn't that always our way? I remember karaoke nights, going clubbing, parties at Casey's, and trips to Niagara Falls. I remember through everything what a good friend you were to me, I remember that most of all. I love you and miss you Jon. I will always remember you.
0
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
Written 8/15/12 for J.C.
an old dream of mine was to hit the rave scene / clubbing scene in ibiza... never done so, i look at it now like a massive sack of ***** with little white tadpoles swarming around to a rhythmic wanking.
0
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC
ambition