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"critter" poems
Nature is a beast you one mere critter knowing nothing of hatred brought slowly to wither but it's all alright now you were not condemned or ****** you still served a purpose so we're burying you with our hands
0
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
snakefood gone too soon
Frisky, little, swimmer danceful wiggle dips Yellowy, orange, shimmer puckering fishy lips Thoughtful, quiet, feller never any yips Lonely, curious, critter Got any life tips?
0
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
GoldFish
I was raised in the wild With all the defiled So my mood was mild While bodies were piled I was a lonely coyote The other creatures didn't know me Because I slinked in the shade To avoid their detection Loneliness is what I had to trade To pass their inspection Other animals couldn't brave the weather Or their fragile arteries were severed They laid there dead I wondered if they ever lived It went to my head What this world can give I saw the buzzards Ring their buzzers Then the maggots fed on their brain While not understanding their pain These images did me no good While I was stuck in the woods And I couldn't see the forest through the trees I was lost If I didn't find a home by winter I would freeze In the frost I tried to find a home in hollowed trees But I was chased out by a bunch of bees And the darkened caves Seemed like shallow graves When that's where bats play But peaceful open meadows Left me susceptible to attack Everything seemed mellow So I had to watch my back Winter was approaching And I saw no solutions The cold air encroaching Like frigid pollution But my shady luck shifted Once I was graciously gifted A powerful and majestic horse That put me on a better course I ride the steed with a leather saddle Made of skin stripped off simple cattle It took the strength of an ox To hold down this fox Yet my domestication Calls for celebration Because now I live in a house Without having to hide like a mouse I can strut like a peacock With a bird of my flock It's a form of animal husbandry Because you're in love with me I'm the insistent critter From a different litter That saw life wither From damage inner I was a raccoon digging through the trash Now I'm a phoenix rising from the ash You're an agricultural guy So vultures circle the sky Looking to harvest your bountiful crop They must smell death underneath it Their presence makes my heart drop And all I want to do is defeat it But even as they get near You remain here We stand together as scarecrows In a defensively unified paired row This is the delightful day You end all my wild ways And eliminate my suffering With your animal husbandry
0
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
Animal Husbandry
I was raised in the wild With all the defiled So my mood was mild While bodies were piled I was a lonely coyote The other creatures didn't know me Because I slinked in the shade To avoid their detection Loneliness is what I had to trade To pass their inspection Other animals couldn't brave the weather Or their fragile arteries were severed They laid there dead I wondered if they ever lived It went to my head What this world can give I saw the buzzards Ring their buzzers Then the maggots fed on their brain While not understanding their pain These images did me no good While I was stuck in the woods And I couldn't see the forest through the trees I was lost If I didn't find a home by winter I would freeze In the frost I tried to find a home in hollowed trees But I was chased out by a bunch of bees And the darkened caves Seemed like shallow graves When that's where bats play But peaceful open meadows Left me susceptible to attack Everything seemed mellow So I had to watch my back Winter was approaching And I saw no solutions The cold air encroaching Like frigid pollution But my shady luck shifted Once I was graciously gifted A powerful and majestic horse That put me on a better course I ride the steed with a leather saddle Made of skin stripped off simple cattle It took the strength of an ox To hold down this fox Yet my domestication Calls for celebration Because now I live in a house Without having to hide like a mouse I can strut like a peacock With a bird of my flock It's a form of animal husbandry Because you're in love with me I'm the insistent critter From a different litter That saw life wither From damage inner I was a raccoon digging through the trash Now I'm a phoenix rising from the ash You're an agricultural guy So vultures circle the sky Looking to harvest your bountiful crop They must smell death underneath it Their presence makes my heart drop And all I want to do is defeat it But even as they get near You remain here We stand together as scarecrows In a defensively unified paired row This is the delightful day You end all my wild ways And eliminate my suffering With your animal husbandry
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75
I don't know much about Jellyfish, but I do know of a girls biggest wish is to become one of those fish and oh, she would fit. The female Jelly of a rare species, one of the most beautiful, divine finds. A very rare kind, that would ever so shine, there's only one of it's kind, it leaves me so blind. The gentle Jelly so breathtaking that it takes away all of my oxygen, The Jelly's, heart breaking. She's so damaged, she's dead on the inside with many different strings loosely draping among with her, it's a representation of all of her past, so terrible, I wonder if I could  fix that? I don't know if there's a Jellyfish that continuously changes colors in a glowing manner, but she would. This is why this Jellyfish would be the rarest. This Jellyfish would glow colors of Yellow,Purple,Gray,Black,Blue, and Red. The yellow would be her happiness, though it may be the rarest of her colors. Purple, would be her scars. Black, is her hidden irrationality that I wont ever let her drown in, in her wonderful blue lit sea. Gray, would portray something like the clouds on a rainy day, something that keeps her happiness hidden. Blue, a very sad colored blue that would be the color of her tears that I try to wipe and keep away, this blue is more distinct than the color of the waters she lives in because it represents only her pain and only comes out of her. Red, would represent her recent scarring's, a recent ****** wound that has just been cut or even a wound that will not disappear. The Jellyfish being through all that she has been through still continues to float among the sea, a weak, but also a strong Jellyfish as my bubbles keep her afloat, I wont ever let the waves engulf her. The persistent sea critter drifts delicately reminiscing, but not forgetting.
0
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Everlasting Oceans Luminance
I don't know much about Jellyfish, but I do know of a girls biggest wish is to become one of those fish and oh, she would fit. The female Jelly of a rare species, one of the most beautiful, divine finds. A very rare kind, that would ever so shine, there's only one of it's kind, it leaves me so blind. The gentle Jelly so breathtaking that it takes away all of my oxygen, The Jelly's, heart breaking. She's so damaged, she's dead on the inside with many different strings loosely draping among with her, it's a representation of all of her past, so terrible, I wonder if I could  fix that? I don't know if there's a Jellyfish that continuously changes colors in a glowing manner, but she would. This is why this Jellyfish would be the rarest. This Jellyfish would glow colors of Yellow,Purple,Gray,Black,Blue, and Red. The yellow would be her happiness, though it may be the rarest of her colors. Purple, would be her scars. Black, is her hidden irrationality that I wont ever let her drown in, in her wonderful blue lit sea. Gray, would portray something like the clouds on a rainy day, something that keeps her happiness hidden. Blue, a very sad colored blue that would be the color of her tears that I try to wipe and keep away, this blue is more distinct than the color of the waters she lives in because it represents only her pain and only comes out of her. Red, would represent her recent scarring's, a recent ****** wound that has just been cut or even a wound that will not disappear. The Jellyfish being through all that she has been through still continues to float among the sea, a weak, but also a strong Jellyfish as my bubbles keep her afloat, I wont ever let the waves engulf her. The persistent sea critter drifts delicately reminiscing, but not forgetting.
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24
Friend Rockstar,             Listen, yield to a robust think-tank,             earlobes skidding against wheat and grain. Terrible story, yes, what happened to that little girl. Sterile teddy nightgowns weeping in the squad car windows. Teacher – Teacher, do you harken my yodels for grace?             I’ve never been maternal.             Put the game on. Abortion.             That’s what I’m about.             Grab a bra. Sling some weight.             That’s what I’m about. Some housefly wings on a weathered corn cob. Some downhome, homegrown twang for those fancy, fussy britches.             Muddy workboots. Sweat-soaked collars.             That’s what I’m about. Him done made me read, sir. What sacraments did we write today?             I can still remember my first broken bone.             I can still remember my first broken *****                         That could be what this is all about. Mary, Mary, you can be contrite,             so knife – so critter – so laze – so stalked.     Who fertilized your seeds? Who reared your sprouts?             Cockle shells and silver bells, honey,             can’t grow up             to be pretty little maids all in a row. Sterile teddy nightgowns – green bells in gaseous gardens. Friend Rockstar, you may have to sleep. This restless harbor is a shivering anecdote spilled from a belly,             a vast, deep cavern with love notes written in milk. Your fried, stern smile was a flaking fingernail adjacent to the crack in the flowerpot. Some garden, I say.
0
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC
Friend Rockstar
Friend Rockstar,             Listen, yield to a robust think-tank,             earlobes skidding against wheat and grain. Terrible story, yes, what happened to that little girl. Sterile teddy nightgowns weeping in the squad car windows. Teacher – Teacher, do you harken my yodels for grace?             I’ve never been maternal.             Put the game on. Abortion.             That’s what I’m about.             Grab a bra. Sling some weight.             That’s what I’m about. Some housefly wings on a weathered corn cob. Some downhome, homegrown twang for those fancy, fussy britches.             Muddy workboots. Sweat-soaked collars.             That’s what I’m about. Him done made me read, sir. What sacraments did we write today?             I can still remember my first broken bone.             I can still remember my first broken *****                         That could be what this is all about. Mary, Mary, you can be contrite,             so knife – so critter – so laze – so stalked.     Who fertilized your seeds? Who reared your sprouts?             Cockle shells and silver bells, honey,             can’t grow up             to be pretty little maids all in a row. Sterile teddy nightgowns – green bells in gaseous gardens. Friend Rockstar, you may have to sleep. This restless harbor is a shivering anecdote spilled from a belly,             a vast, deep cavern with love notes written in milk. Your fried, stern smile was a flaking fingernail adjacent to the crack in the flowerpot. Some garden, I say.
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32
When was the last time I felt a raving hunger for life? When had I but an eternity in moments, on the edge of something vastly different? How was it me and not you who staked her soul high on rolling hills of green, took long draughts to savour, to condense the weight of the world into one precious drink, cup the shortest days in her palm and release them, for her thoughts to balloon into the wild? The delectable now— ripe as berries for plucking in winter, and all things, like music must peter into silence. So I suppose my question to you is not concerned with the stack of newly-minted green in your pocket, nor the fleet of shiny cars, but your pure self, simply being. It’s prodding the heart, a tiny critter fluttering with wings, wondering: when will you ever get a second chance at this— all this storm and inexplicable happiness— or will you go hunting for things, whirling at mere traces of power in your name— or will you turn around only to find a life or a lie, staring back wide-eyed in endless shame? © BT
0
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 6:21 PM UTC
When Was the Last Time
Dear Deer, I eye you See secret critter, you Grass assassin, you Do dewdrops nourish you? Brown round, you Sincerely, Lee
0
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Dear Deer
Adrift on her very first voyage With the sea coursing in through her bow Lay the cruise ship, the S.S. Lumbago There was scarcely a chance for her now But Ahoy! On the western horizon In a flurry of yellow and green That ender of blight and a damsel’s delight And he’s always on cue for his scene It’s Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar! It’s got seating for seventy people And the service is well above par There’s an adequate medical unit And a modest but elegant bar What more could a man ever dream of In a Luxury Budgerigar? Well… The forests of England were burning So the foxes escaped to the city The badgers had taken to looting And the squirrels had formed a committee But who should arise from a manhole With a confident gleam in his eye? That destroyer of woes with a spring in his toes And he’s quick with a witty reply… Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar! With adjustable hose pipe attachment It’s got wheels like a feathery car The forests were dowsed and the fauna re-housed With a three day retreat at a spa It’s a thing to admire and surely acquire The Luxury Budgerigar! But… Susan was stricken with sorrow Twas her darkest, most fearful hour A spider had wrestled her out of her bath And set up his home in the shower But who should jump out of the wardrobe With an innocent look on his face? That singer of shanties, remover of ******* And first in an obstacle race Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar With a sucker for spiders and beetles That deposits them into a jar There’s a tiny wee restaurant to feed them It was given a Michelin star A remarkable thing with retractable wings Is a Luxury Budgerigar So if you should be in a pet shop And you see just the critter for you Please heed this advice: make a note of the price Then proceed to the back of the queue When you ask for your preference of creature Should it whistle, slither or waddle Do as Sir Patrick Stewart did And opt for the Luxury model
0
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Sir Patrick Stewart's Luxury Budgerigar
Adrift on her very first voyage With the sea coursing in through her bow Lay the cruise ship, the S.S. Lumbago There was scarcely a chance for her now But Ahoy! On the western horizon In a flurry of yellow and green That ender of blight and a damsel’s delight And he’s always on cue for his scene It’s Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar! It’s got seating for seventy people And the service is well above par There’s an adequate medical unit And a modest but elegant bar What more could a man ever dream of In a Luxury Budgerigar? Well… The forests of England were burning So the foxes escaped to the city The badgers had taken to looting And the squirrels had formed a committee But who should arise from a manhole With a confident gleam in his eye? That destroyer of woes with a spring in his toes And he’s quick with a witty reply… Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar! With adjustable hose pipe attachment It’s got wheels like a feathery car The forests were dowsed and the fauna re-housed With a three day retreat at a spa It’s a thing to admire and surely acquire The Luxury Budgerigar! But… Susan was stricken with sorrow Twas her darkest, most fearful hour A spider had wrestled her out of her bath And set up his home in the shower But who should jump out of the wardrobe With an innocent look on his face? That singer of shanties, remover of ******* And first in an obstacle race Sir Patrick Stewart! And his Luxury Budgerigar With a sucker for spiders and beetles That deposits them into a jar There’s a tiny wee restaurant to feed them It was given a Michelin star A remarkable thing with retractable wings Is a Luxury Budgerigar So if you should be in a pet shop And you see just the critter for you Please heed this advice: make a note of the price Then proceed to the back of the queue When you ask for your preference of creature Should it whistle, slither or waddle Do as Sir Patrick Stewart did And opt for the Luxury model
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58
Earth is our home. Your mind has just been blown. People, animals, and stones are WAY more important than some stupid phones. Moans and groans yell forth to continue our whining. Dining with a lover, means more than your ******** Pop the next cork on our bottle and celebrate life. Happiness, passion, and love is way more powerful than hatred, greed, and strife. Our plight to survive another day and night. The negative is Death, and the positive is life. Our sight., right, and fight to save the environment and endangered wildlife. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Shoulder your burdens as we all grow older. Weather gets hotter, and sometimes colder. Some are scared pussycats, while others are lions that grow bolder. Close your folder of selfishness, while oil pipelines spread disaster. Do you care while you waste away, as the ecosystem wastes away faster? Litter another critter of pollution. Cleaner air is the solution. Care to find YOUR resolution? Spilling out our guts all over an institution. Garden the seeds of change to fruition. Us, the hoes, should fight the GMOs. Planting organic crops on fertile soil, as vines of life flourish and grow. Blow the wind that feeds flames of bitterness, while water sweeps over, you know? So you don't give a **** about the Earth as your self-pity glows? Shows how stupid YOU are while the passionate stays afloat. Fear spreads chaos, while paying it forward spreads the most. I can go on and on with this poem, but alas, I must slow the flow. Every day is ******* Earth day. Let's do our part. Here's my toast!
0
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:32 AM UTC
"Earth Days"
Earth is our home. Your mind has just been blown. People, animals, and stones are WAY more important than some stupid phones. Moans and groans yell forth to continue our whining. Dining with a lover, means more than your ******** Pop the next cork on our bottle and celebrate life. Happiness, passion, and love is way more powerful than hatred, greed, and strife. Our plight to survive another day and night. The negative is Death, and the positive is life. Our sight., right, and fight to save the environment and endangered wildlife. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Shoulder your burdens as we all grow older. Weather gets hotter, and sometimes colder. Some are scared pussycats, while others are lions that grow bolder. Close your folder of selfishness, while oil pipelines spread disaster. Do you care while you waste away, as the ecosystem wastes away faster? Litter another critter of pollution. Cleaner air is the solution. Care to find YOUR resolution? Spilling out our guts all over an institution. Garden the seeds of change to fruition. Us, the hoes, should fight the GMOs. Planting organic crops on fertile soil, as vines of life flourish and grow. Blow the wind that feeds flames of bitterness, while water sweeps over, you know? So you don't give a **** about the Earth as your self-pity glows? Shows how stupid YOU are while the passionate stays afloat. Fear spreads chaos, while paying it forward spreads the most. I can go on and on with this poem, but alas, I must slow the flow. Every day is ******* Earth day. Let's do our part. Here's my toast!
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16
The fire knows nothing but burning, we know breathing that way, naturally done for our own sake. We old still know sake and grant mean true immaterial things. Sake and granted we take to mean my good, your good, good sake grant me take me con mentis sans carne by golly. Dada-esque wire spoke far writing ease e everything e-literate e-mail --- the boinin' in d'boozum, dat be da ting, da ting con sum in all ya'lifes. be knowin' dat, be knowin' a-dam lie. Jah know y'know, don' be sayin' no y'don' Be happy. Jah know haps be hap'nin' allatime. *** sum, take wha's granted, take all fo' free. You got nothin' t'boin, nothin' to oin, be a bird brain seein' stars fo' no. birds be sleepin' when stars be seen so birds consider nothin', sidereally. Hmmm. Quit? Walk away, say, I got nought to say I ought t' say. No way. Temporary tempt-test-u-us sitchee-ations, suffer it so. It don' hurt t'say no f'now so How'd that that shiny critter know my game? How'd it know, I think thisaway and it is gone, forever. (which has begun, btw) ----- The biosphere is regaining consciousness, Capitan. Shall we continue burning? What's the bullocks count?
0
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
Consume or die (the fire lie)
There lived, beneath a hanging leaf A Ladybird called Annie Who hated being female And daily, cursed her ***** Her voice was deep and baleful Her shoulders, broad and strong By right, she was a Boybird Just her genitals were wrong Her family rejected her She alive alone, ashamed Until she met a Dragonfly ‘Salvation’ she proclaimed For every bug and critter When feeling below par Would visit Doctor Dragonfly In his empty pickle jar Just maybe he could help her With snip, a tuck and stitch She’d not be Annie any more Tomorrow, she’d be Mitch She lay down on the table And a beetle knocked her out The doctor took his knife in hand And bustled all about With suture made of thistledown And sap of pine for glue He reassigned her gender But the best that he could do Was not a lady, not a man But somewhere in between And, as he used some aphid parts The ***** were small and green Annie never changed her name It didn’t seem quite right Her family still shunned her She slept alone at night The only insect in the field With ***** ***** and ***** Even hungry birds avoided Ladyboybird Annie
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
Annie's *****
Falling to earth with such a crash, antenna waves and legs do thrash as panic fills this quiet place, invading visitor is fast to race. It chirps so loud, out into the night perhaps to explain its weary plight. In hope that someone may attend and come to rescue a dear friend. Alas the latter does not show but I think that it doesn't know, as off it stalks with knowledge none, his fate is not an healthy one. I sit in such a peaceful state. Contented just to sit and wait until this morsel feels secure. As legs thrash through silky lure. Until that time with such a gasp, the critter steps into my grasp. To struggle now is not of worth as my fangs intrude throughout its girth. With a body now so soft and limp, interior now a lovely drink. Its frenzied kicks to get away for this cricket will never pay. Venoms course, its presense felt, a life that dwindles with the melt. All that's left are bones to crunch As this Tarantula enjoys her lunch
0
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Lola's Lunch
angel's can shout through demons if they have to here in the valley of time slips and air borne rock land of meteor splash and ufos sprit friends a fantasy gift you give yourself but if you see some of them its the worst day of your life those streaking trajectories as straight as a pencil path sending a migration of aliens weird ovoid's with ****** binocular vision like Helix pomatia ****** crawlers while eight legged locomoting moss piglets that look like a thousand blinking one eyed gob worms hurtle in decent perhaps landing in the Yucatan barbarian headed asteroids, critter ridden mixed of spirits and denizens of deep space from the parametric edges of Bals   glittering kingdom shoot suns down from the sky far flinging those crater bashed demons into predatory gardens elixir's of war and death wave screaming reveries through red cities of nightingale floors nautilus agents plummet into brawling plots of ash shattering a million spines of **** ***** monsters in a bulls eye break neck rodeo
0
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
The Hotel Panspermia
I lean back in my chair Sit and stare WHAT WAS THAT! Something catches my eye I jolt back in fear, then just sigh I look at the spider, the root of anxiety The critter creeping and crawling ever so quietly I watch and sit still It waits on the window sill Instinct inside says to end its existence But value for life does not offer compliance Though it is the source of caution and fear I cannot help but stay near And so I sit and stare Lean back in my chair WHAT WAS THAT! The spider catches my eye I jolt back in fear, then just sigh
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
The Spider
long hair long johns of sad happy clear fog is the dog god doggone dog kind of you to kind of listen kindling burns like Hong Kong midnight brightlights whose birthright, or birthwrong down-under daggers for flags flagged flagulation creative sensory compensated penitentiary forward lad landing laughter for the last log on the fire the last day for earth to say please plead for plaid shirts to pay for themselves otherwise there will be ****** for you to see summer in the winter if I sprinkle a little bit more wood on my splinter sink or swim, sink and swim, sink to swim swim to sink ah um oh ehhem undo your dress and undo your last mistake please retake the photo so I can stay awake. don't, I mean, yes yes hands could be cold but then a g a i n I just call it what I must plustwo double yous in a zoo for the future flu's to cruise like truce 11/11/11 armistice missed the list when you kissed my wrist I extracted bliss from the Buddha's jist just cause? just call for the muse music don't mind me I mean yes, yes motorcade king of spades I got laid to the silence of a forest in the poorest richness I've never ditched this **** zip zap my zipper is a little critter crawling through the litter on the city's twitter account doesn't amount to much but I sound like I'm salted in breath dead like MacBeth, the challenge was the shaken speare sprained everclear of the diamond tear or the shattered cheer of ancient seers truth is greater than fiction.
0
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 11:24 AM UTC
Fractal Pattern Fiction
Driving along What's that I smell The daily delight Of the latest roadkill From raccoons to possums In this flattened cuisine As vultures take lunches On this finest of dining Call us the critter getters Crossing over our paths Taking them out As they scurry this way and that From Bambi to Thumper And all their forest friends It does make you wonder Who you'll run into next We'll even take out the curious Who wander on To that portion of blacktop To see what's going on From teetotaling turtles To slithering snakes There's not a creature out there That we won't pancake So check out the roadkill If there's still twitch after the thump Hurry in back And toss it into the trunk Because down in the South There ain't no one can say That any of us country folk Let a thing go to waste Below the Mason Dixon line If it's fresh enough We'll take it home ya'll And have it for lunch As long as it's fried There ain't a thing With cheese grits on the side That we won't eat
0
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
Roadkill Vittles
Wee Cute Sparrow Sparrow sitting in the tree her's a juicy worm from me I stepped upon it on the floor eat it and I'll fetch some more Hmm...nothing.. Come on little feathered guy eat so you can soar and fly wriggly little worm for you got some for your wee pals too "Sod off!" ??? "Now then funny skinny man sit down and listen if you can I'll tell you all about the worms that make my tiny tummy turn.. They taste of mud and sticky ***** to swallow one is such a fight to feel one crashing round my belly makes my legs both go to jelly What sparrows like is m + m's posh boat cruises on the Thames burnt toast served in crystal glass squashed worms? You can kiss my *** One thousand years ago or more we'd eat a critter of the floor but sparrows now eat something else so EAT THAT F*****G WORM YOURSELF!"
0
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 8:48 AM UTC
Cute Wee Sparrow
The monkey rode her back constantly, a skilled jockey, it watched her down cheap ***** until she no longer existed in a clear state. That's when the critter got heavy, and her, in a stupor, could not shake that hairy devil. It was hard to watch her die that way.
0
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
It Was Hard To Watch The Monkey Jockey
The roaches come out every 5 am when everyone sleeps But I see them When I’m up at dawn They crawl one by one On the microwave the bruised wooden table Sometimes it creeps into me In one ear, out the other It echoes my father’s laughter My mom’s denial of said laughter I hear its critter noises And I shout ****** ****** Yet they all still sleep Soundly at the comfort of politeness and tolerance No one believes The crazy daughter When she screams help
0
Mar 25, 2022
Mar 25, 2022 at 10:34 AM UTC
The roaches come out
EEEEEEK! She shrieked as Lucky black cat spat A mouse into the house SKEEEEEEK! Squeaked said mouse Paddling skedaddling hither thither Seeking sites secure Said mouse booked it to bedroom Cornered itself into a corner SQUEEEEEAKING! Himself (and black cat) tried to help Poking prodding mouse to come out Critter capered up my trouser And lept! Disappeared! We slept. From boudoir to bath I find next morning mousy Tentatively treading toilet water What a fright! All night! All his might! Suavely saving mousey Glad I put gloves on as its Teeth deployed deeply Outside with him. Run away! Cat’s watching. Heart beating Lungs working Stay alive, little guy! Later, Fred keeping watch The little grey fluff is gone I mean: really gone
0
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
TINY TRAGEDY
She walks the rails Infinite steel beams dwindle to absence long down the horizon between soot-painted trees, into open skies, and the desire to go wherever it ends... or doesn’t (mercifully). She walks the rails Begging to God, or Madonna, or the unrecognizable critter severed on the tracks, that the scabs of her bad decisions stay in the past... as she rips them off in a gallop to get away. She runs the rails In terror, that whatever has haunted her will catch up. For anything ahead no matter how unidentifiable is better than the hell that clearly is. She screams down the rails Attempting to scare fear into submission, attenuating the volume to beat back the throng of demonic voices telling her she cannot break free. She stops on the rails Her eyes recoil through a blur and sees the vision. Puffy lips dripping of sorrow curl toward heaven in a blubbering smile involuntarily she laughs unrestrained audacious... and stretches out her arms to greet the angel of light. She stains the rails....
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
She Walks The Rails
Old T Rex stood on the mountain top And watched the brontos stroll Little did he know that further up Moses was on a roll The critter knew that one day soon The tables would be turned He hunched his back and gnashed his teeth The tablets wont be spurned. Both together made mankind fierce and splashed the fear of hell One did better with no rehearse Casting an eerie spell. The tablets were used To keep temperatures down Ten doses a sop and a lollipop T Rex the centre of town.
0
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
The Delightful Dinosaurs
"Hey Critter," is how Jake greets me. About that dude- he said- he's a child. You deserve a world better. I was telling my Mate Jake that you're coming over and he said "good." You don't even know him yet I said. Yes but from what I've heard he said, he's "good." So today I was drinking whiskey and juice and playing pool. Then we went to a friends house and watched the boxing. I don't think watching people hit each other is exciting so I smoked a lot of cigarettes. Hey Critter Jake said, and I know he's got my back.
0
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
Jake
What I'm about to say, is not a lie I have no proof but I can't deny The idea provoked and makes me cry To me its true. Till the day I die There was no beginning, there will be no end The universe realized I need a friend You sneaked in like a critter to fill a hole An empty space in my heart, the same one you stole And like my heart, you serve a similar purpose Without it I would be lifeless, meaningless, an empty abyss Running speechless and blind in a captivating hell Drowning slowly but surely in a never ending well Maybe there exists a phenomenon called fate Somewhere there's a fisherman using you as bait Depending on your smell and beauty he would wait Till I get lured around to replenish steady state EVERYTHING is what I would like to offer you INFINITY is how long I would like to spend with you If you would offer me a ticket to spend eternity with you I would without hesitation tell you that I do The connection that we have ignores the laws of science The force that pulls you closer, betraying this defiance Call it love, call it lust, call it desire, call it trust I will feel this way about you till my body turns to dust
0
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
Fool's love
oh delicious jealousy, it tastes sour and black like plaque.
0
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
Bitter Critter (10w)