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Big Virge Mar 2017
I ... REALLY LOVE ... *** ...
ESPECIALLY with ... My New girlfriend ... !!!

I Love ... women ...
but really can't be doing ....
with ... Arguments ... !!!

That's why ... My ... " Pen " ...
is my ... New girlfriend ...

We make ... " Love " ...
and Love the touch ...
of pen to page ....

When we ... Engage ...
It feels just like ...
A ... ****** High ...

NO ... NOT That Way ... !!!
You've got a ... SICK BRAIN ... !!!!!

There's Nothing ... quite like
**** ... Feminine Thighs ... !!!
but ... after *** ...
and ... Cigarettes ...

Some girls give ... STRESS ...
to their ... boyfriends ... !!! ...

That's why I like ...
to ... sit and write ...

Because ........

I Don't get stressed ...
by my ... New Girlfriend ...

Her name ... is ... " Pen " ...

NOT ... Penny ...
or ... Penelope ... !!!

Should I ...
say it again ... ?

My ... " Pen " ... is now
My New ... girlfriend ...
and YES ... we have ...
INCREDIBLE ... *** ... !!!!!!

The kind of ***
WITHOUT ... the stress ...
of ...... *** ......
or other types of ... STD's ... !!!!!

*** like this ...
is ... TRULY ... Bliss ... !!!

NO Condoms ...
and NO ... Colons ... !!!!!!!!!

Except ... for those ...
that fit in ... Prose ...

So ... NO ******* ...
and NO ... Mistakes ... !!!

Helping us to ... avoid ...
Long Term ... Headaches ... !!!

But ... EVEN If ...
by chance ... they do ...

Trust in this ... !!!

They're just ... " Removed " ...
Without ... tissues ... !!!

Or ... with trips ...
to ... " THOSE " ... Clinics ... !!!!!

If ... During ...
or ... because of ... *** ...
We make a ... Mistake ...

NO ... Pregnancy tests ... !!!
or ... Arguments ...

Our friend ... " Tipp-Ex " ...
is our ... " Best Mate " ...
Just like ... THAT ...
Mistake ... ERASED ... !!!!!!!!!!

I'm telling you ... Straight ...
Our *** is ... GREAT ... !!! ...

I think that ... Pen's ...
My New ... " Soulmate " ... !!!!!

She's ... " Tall and slim " ...
and at a ... " Whim " ...
Can change the colour ...
of her ... Skin ...

And ............... If I think ...
She's a bit .... " TOO BIG " ... !!!

She Doesn't ... fume ...
if she gets ... Ditched ...
for ... Another Pen ...
I choose to ... " Pick " ...

This simply is ...
The way of things ...
in our ... *** Relationship ...

" IT'S ... ONLY *** ! "

is what she says .........

but makes sure that ...
it's NEVER ... Bad ...
when she's attached ...
to my ... " Notepad " ... !!!!!!

She's ... QUALITY ... man ... !!!!!
and i'm ... SO GLAD ...
that she ... " Found Me " ...
Through ... " Poetry " ...

She told me ....

" Virge, I love your rap ... !!! "

but then ... Of course ...
I answered back ...

"Come on now Pen,
It's not just rap !
Don't get it confused
like certain crews !
This is something
Beautiful !
What we do,
leaves people moved,
just like you,
whenever you choose,
to *** it up,
in my front room !!!"

She simply said,

"Big Virge that's true !
How about this view ?
Your way with words
makes our love work !"

I'm ... Telling You ...... !!!

She's a ... SPECIAL ... girl ...
who makes me feel ...
On ... TOP OF THE WORLD ... !!!!!

She loves me with ...
Her heart ... FREELY ... !!!!!

and chooses to ....
Just .... let me be ........

Until it's time ...
to just ... recline ...
and let our souls ...
Make Love ... through scrolls ...

It's MORE THAN ... *** ...
when this .... Unfolds ......................

NO GIRL ... provides ...
Such ... " Loving " ... vibes ...
WITHOUT ... " Conditions " ...

That's ... THE CRIME ... !!!!!

Whenever I write ...
It's a ... JOYOUS ... Ride ... !!!

Even when ...
My Anger ... finds ...
A place within ....

" Poetic " ... lines ...

But ... EVEN ... then ...
" My Pen " ... Still Shines ... !!!!!

and let's me know ...

" Hey Virge it's fine
I'll Love You til',
the day you die !"

She is ..."  My LIGHT " ...
and my ... SUNSHINE ... !!!!!
and is ... " The Love " ...
that ... FILLS ... My Life ... !!!!!!

When I just .......... sit ...........
and HOLD ........ " My Pen " .......

She ALWAYS sends ...
My brain ... these scripts ...
that ... in the end ...
are ... Celestial Gifts ... !!!!!!!!!!

Negative ... or ... Positive
The balance reached ....

REJECTS ... needless
........... Vanity .........

but Welcomes ... MORE ...
.......... Humility ..........

That;s why ... The *** ...
is ... SO **** GOOD ... !!!!!

because ... My Pen ....
will NOT BE .... " Pulled " ...
Away from ... ME ...
for Cars ... Babies ...
or .... BIG MONEY .... !!!

She just ... " LOVES ME " ...
Through ... " Poetry " ...

Like My Mother ...
did ... DAILY ...

From ... UP ABOVE ...
These days ... My Mum's ...
STILL LOVING ... Me ...
Through ... " My Pen " ...

UNCONDITIONALLY ... !!!!!!

So ... NO WOMEN ...
NO ... Arguments ...

Just .....

Me and ... " My Pen " ...
as .... " ****** Friends " ...

Until ... I FIND ...
within ... " This World " ...

A Truly ... **** ...
SPECIAL Girl ...

Who ... in the end ...
when we're in ... Bed ...

Makes me ... " Feel " ...
just like ... " My Pen " ...

and makes these words ...
run through ... " My Head " ...

Because of her ... WOW ...

I Really ... Love *** ... !!!!!!!!!
As far from *** as you could imagine, but my love for this art is expressed in this piece
We are all talking much louder
Than your shoulders can translate
There are escaped sovereigns hiding from
Modern anthems of star spangled spasms
Underneath our hearts there are cars and cartridges
Condoms and consoles coiled around our flagpoles
We are through being told what not to do
So whenever we fool around with tiny tyrants
Please know that we are talking about you
And I am supplying your mind with ecstatic silence
In order to finance these fading fitness regimes
And measure your symbols in systematic struggles
We are all insignificant bundles of nerve fibers
Hoping to one day be born again
As an alchemical magus fluent in many languages
milkymoon Mar 19
her faced oozed frangelico;
a sweet reminder that she was top shelf.

you striped her skirt to the floor,
eyeing her chastity belt made of condoms.
unbeknownst to her father, you stole the key.

his shotgun alarmed you but not enough to stop.
the laws about minors stumped you but not enough to stop.

unlocking my belt, she prays.
on her knees.
mouth open.

she carefully places the cross that looms over her bed in the bin.
marriage can wait, this can't.
you realize in the morning God wasn't with you.
but the hole in your ****** was.
Condoms condemn ordinary men
To a lifetime of nothing special
*** becomes a substitute for salvation
And we enter into a new fascination
With our Self-ishness
Explications are seldom necessary
Especially if they are solely hereditary
S I N Dec 1
I remember my own Conceiving,
Stridulation of a loosen springs
Of jalopy parked somewhere in the rear
Of an upper level of a parking on the
Skirts of town forgotten by me but
Remembrance still is vivid as if I am
Creeping on my four to to the shaking
Out of tune a little vehicle with lights out
Both rear and front and litters of used Condoms with ***** filling and leaking
From its rubber carcass and butts Smothered though some flickering still
In the darkness of night on the skirt of
The forgotten town where misty and Panting glass was to and fro to and fro
Up and down and sidewise with a chance
Limb or feet splattered against sideways Windows leaving a print of sole with
All its interlaces and wrinkles and crinkles
And toes with torn flannel out of passion
Or just lost on the skirts of the town
Forgotten by Everyone but me where I am standing
Watching my own conceiving by monster
Of a doubled backs back in the car in the
Town where lights of out but reek was
There as if inherent in the very concrete
And all blocks and bricks and levels and
Tiers and I remember there my own
Conceiving as I was standing there on my
Own four and creeping up to swaying Lizzie and getting on my hind double
And approaching the panted and misty
Window with my both eyes reflecting
And glancing back at me at which a
Moment ever I arise with sweat
A-dripping down my temples and back
And cheeks and arms and breast
And wall in front of me in the dark
Town forgotten by everyone but me in the
Car where I remember was my own
Conceiving
Maddie Cribbs Jan 25
I miss our Rick & Morty Marathons
and your attempt teaching me how to play Fortnite.

I miss the "I love you's"
and texts filled with blue hearts.

I miss your smile lighting up the room,
the gazing into each other's eyes,
and our quirky giggles
as we glanced at each other.

I miss lying by your side,
holding each other so tight.

I miss ******* anywhere
whenever we got the urge.

I miss our movie dates
and convincing our parents
to stay out late.

I miss our late night drives
and the way you'd mess with me,
turning the radio volume up and down
every time I danced insane
in your passenger seat.

I miss our first kiss on the rock
at Getty Heights Park
and our last in your car
dropping me off.

I miss sneaking out my bedroom window
and our late night smoke sessions.

I miss you sneaking up behind me,
picking me up
and throwing me into the pool.

I miss you holding me from behind,
looking in the mirror
as you whispered, 'I love you.'

I miss doing your English homework
and the inappropriate jokes
you'd leave on the shared doc.

I miss our long hour phone calls,
talking about whatever came to mind,
laughing hysterically.

I miss all your dogs,
but most of all Coco
and taking her to the vet.

I miss your family
and your mom's dinners
and persistence of getting me to eat.

I miss cheering you on at all your
hockey and football games
and supporting you through your decision
to join the Marines.

I miss getting caught,
and getting condoms thrown at us.

I miss our long texts;
good morning and goodnight;
good luck and it'll all be okay.

I miss "bby"
and "your my princess" to "queen;"
"prince" to "king."

The list continues,
missing everything about us.

But most of all,
I miss you.
...more than all the memories we shared. I always thought it would be you.
b e mccomb Jan 29
they write poems about
boys who are flowers and
sunlight or oceans and salt spray
boys who are soft and lovely

when they write poems about
men they are all whiskey and
loud voices or sneers and fists
men who are angry and violent

i’ve yet to read a poem
about someone like you
because they don’t write poems
about people who just are
who they are with no
exceptions or exclamations

i call you my boy
because you’re soft
but you’re really a man
(the clunky boots prove that)

but now that i’m writing this
poem i hesitate to call you
a man because heaven forbid
anyone think you
are made of sharp angles
and muddy truck beds

and i was scared
because they say men
carry guns and threats
and aspartame compliments
and condoms
in their wallets

but you just carry
a coffee cup
a smart phone
with stickers on the case
and a tiny spatula hanging
on your keys

so i handed you my heart
not ripped out but
scored and carefully
torn around the edges
slightly warm and still
faintly bearing

and you took it
held it in your hand
smiled at it
smiled at me

and placed it in one
of your pockets
under the phone
and the keys and
the wallet and
the coffee mug where
it couldn’t possibly
fall out

and let it warm for awhile
waited for the beat to
grow back stronger
until you held it fully
circulating and rejuvenated
but you didn’t hold on

you handed it back
set it gently in the
hole i had left
in my chest

and i felt the blood
start pouring through
my veins like i never believed
was possible for me

and i swear that even though
you said i could keep my
heart if i wanted to
i swear that i would
give it back to you
again and again
for the rest
of my life

along with the rest of me
my body and soul
completely
you can have me
no guarantees
just me

cracked open and sometimes
still the blood seeps out
but i am healing and learning
to trust that you will
hold me while i continue
to learn to trust myself

growing is painful
and messy and sometimes
people grow a little
bit crooked

but it’s okay for me
to cry on your shoulder
instead of alone
where the darkness
chokes and claws
through my throat

it’s okay for me
to grow
it’s okay for me
to love you

to love my boy
whose eyes are the sky
to love my man
whose hands are the earth

my boy who still watches cartoons
and plays video games til late
and my man who answers my questions
even if he has to look them up

my boy who leaves love bites
on my neck like we’re in junior high
and my man who will go downtown at
midnight to get concealer for them

my boy who buys me nugs
my man who cooks me dinner
my boy with his single dimple
my man with his scruffy beard

my man with his sturdy
strong hands
my boy who makes up silly
names for things

my boy who teases me mercilessly
and my man who hugs me tight until
the panic passes and stands
beside me when i’m afraid

i still get butterflies in
my stomach when you
walk in unexpectedly
and on days when the
sun doesn’t shine you
still make me smile

so here is a poem about
a boy made of orange september
sunlight and april afternoons
kisses on cheeks
rosemary and lemon zest

a poem about a man made
of electric july nights
a crunch on january snow
fluffy white smoke clinging to the ceiling
shimmering glass swirls of orange peel

i am fiercely
inadequate at expressing
concrete emotions

but the emotion you evoke
in me is a tidal wave of
calm and chaos all at once
and if the world were burning
i’d like to go down with your
mouth still on mine

it’s yours
everything i’ve got
you can have
anything for you

my boy
my man
my whole world
copyright 1/18/19 by b. e. mccomb
Michele Burke Jan 16
I have a local liquor store.  

It has wine, *****, fireball, gin, anything you want to drink.
Plus soda and fizzy water.
Lots of candy.
And an odd sort of soups, baking stuff, spam.
Condoms.

They put a bowl of water outside for dogs every day.
And feed the dogs treats when they come in the store.
They play with the little kids who come in for the candy.

The people working there are awesome.

John is a loner.  Lives in an RV. He spends hours coming to and going from work.
John always stands up when I come in. And welcomes me.
He is tall with long hair past his shoulders. And a beard.

Craig is nice. He loves his family.
Treats me nicely.
He is small, with short hair. Shaved. But the top is curly.
Always on his phone.

Chris was Christine.
He has tattoos. And a daughter.
And a wife; not sure how that works.
He listens to his customers.
He is humorous.

They make my day pleasant.

I like my local liquor store.
If this is love, let it be known
that I have finally opened by bones,
to the possibility of forever.
My skin was paper, watered down to none
so I wear diamonds and steel stitched with velvet.
Golden threads have found their way in,
intertwining with the veins where ice flowed.
Now I have been opened, and I am reborn,
            the way my eyes have glowed
              lately,
                because of you.


If this is love, let it be known
that the strangers who have taken hold of me,
felt my skin press against theirs,
whispers in the night, bad intentions
that we have wrapped in sheets and
burnt cigarette butts, used condoms,
              (tonight I will love you, and tomorrow you won't care)
they are nothing more than the ghosts of the past.
You shouldn't worry, my daisy.
I am the wolf and they are the sheep.
They should run away from me
their innards are ash.
Like the promises they made, as empty as dust.
My daisy, you are whole and real,
My fingertips will find you
and I will be in your arms.
              just as you deserve to be in mine.


If this is love, then let it be known,
that I was born to live, rage and die and love again,
aren't we all?
aren't we all destined to be built
like trees and mountains
and then see a sun, a moon, a sky like you
       for ones like you, no matter how high up we are
          we will fall.
I have gathered all the fire,
that was spat out of the lips of pretty women with lion teeth.
I have taken all the ice,
that was used to stab me from the hands of men with voids for hearts.
I have taken all the stones,
that was used to **** me from the eyes of the ones who have repaid with betrayal.
I have become a kingdom; small.
but unyielding,
I watched you climb the wall,
like the prince that you are
      you wear the crown like a king,
        the king you are.


If this is love, then let it be known,
making love is for listening to the sounds of heaven
escape our lips,
    (Ammir is a prayer, a familiar taste on my tongue,)
I have never known heaven,
    how does one become a believer of the Higher Being
    the angels that dance on twilight skies,
    the secret gods in the woods,
    the many forms of a God whose presence
merely lives in the kindness of strangers
when all I've known was the pain of
always trying to be loved
   when it was all just stepping on a bed of thorns
    to something that was a kind of hell,
that no one wanted?
Then you arrived in a chariot,
     the color of hope.
A heaven is a place where you and I will
share a bed,
and the sheets become our kingdom.
Your body's on mine,
we are the son and daughter of the Air,
we turn into a storm,
a storm of
     endless,
       infinite,
          sunsets
sunrise, the moonlit beaches
Your name, on my lips,
and mine on your lungs
we breathe the same air

to make love again
and become it.
Jude kyrie Dec 2018
Birthdays and forevers

Jude writes as a woman again

Its my birthday
40 *** no not that age.
I turn In the bed the lounge lizard I met at the bar
last night wants one more go at me.

I tell him I need to take a call my mom
she calls me first on my birthday its a ritual.
She says her friend is coming in from Columbus Ohio
She has her son with her
she wants me to join them for dinner tonight
give them  a California welcome.

I went,
mom gave me
the men don't marry easy women speech
and told me she could see my *******
through my blouse.
I was ready for the boring night
of platitudes from moms friend.
But it was then I met him.

He was so beautiful
why do the young
have  to  be  So ******* beautiful.
He noticed my *******
I think he was fascinated by me
to my shame I flirted with him.
We went outside
I lit a joint and we shared it.

How. Old are you I asked
Old enough
  he said and held my gaze.
I took him home and ****** him
it was beautiful
not like the bar trash I usually got.
I wanted to give him everything.

My mom was mad the next day.
She said leave him alone he's only 23
But I didn't
I wanted to undress for him again.
And I did.

He would not go back home east
with his mother?
In truth I wanted him to stay
I let him stay at my place.
I never do that

I have not found anyone in ten years
I wanted to spend even  a weekend with.
But he touched me, deeply,
So ******* innocent
I gave him everything.

He had no job or money.
I found him playing Nintendo
after work and drinking my beer and wine.
He was a bit intoxicated one night
and I got mad and threw him out.

He phoned me twenty times a day
So I let him back
I undressed  for him as always
and he took me to the Bed
He had no condoms
but I Had missed him so much
I just wanted him.

It was eight weeks later
I realized I was pregnant?
Young guys like him
are full of fast moving fishes.
I sent him away back to Columbus
He was crying
and told me he loved me.
But I could not trap him
to parenting a baby.

A year later he
He was outside my door
he said he loved me
and couldn't live without me.
I tried to stop him coming in
but his beautiful eyes got me again

I undressed for him
and we made love on the bed.
The baby awoke in the next room
And he went in to see her.
He looked up at me
and he knew ...he knew

He said nothing
and picked up our daughter
holding her close to his heart.
He kissed her head
and comforted her,
Its alright honey
daddy's here
he whispered to the child

A year later

Our  second child
was born two weeks ago
hes a beautiful boy.
He has his father's eyes.

As for me,
I found my soulmate
nobody ever said
he had to the same age.
Jude writes as a woman again
Hey
This does not mean I understand women
Any better
laura-jessica Dec 2018
highschool

drug deals and parties,

drunk texting and ***,

condoms and bathroom make-outs,

diets and binges.


highschool
-
Ryan O'Leary Aug 2018
Burka.

   Banning the burka,
   dust masks, motor
cycle helmets, welders,
Phantom of the Opera,
Alcoholics Anonymous,
The Lone Ranger, Zorro,
Batman and Condoms.
Head covers are illegal.
even the small head!

La France, quelle liberté?
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