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"cthulhu" poems
i'm your o so wanna be lover I'm afraid not what you would expect though i admit to being a difficult pleasure perhaps a tad strange looking squishy with long tentacles half man half octopus with a winking cycloptic eye i entreat you looks can be deceiving how many pretty boys have you loved crawling worms for a soul that have left you a ruined creel a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation have you ever asked your self who adores you who would give all to protect love and cherish i'm waving my eight arms at you from the center of the universe i eat black holes to kiss your *** am i not a cosmic horror with my big Cthulhu smile quivering with tenderness do you hunger for butter **** lollypop i have two big **** heartbreakers with teardrop curves a feast for your ravenous holes of emptiness and many armed tentacles to hold you tight to slither all over your tender woven caves to pull you into me with suckers that thrill during swirling inky ***** i will unravel your mind your soul tilthed if you can get passed my gray rubbery boneless head i can push this shape-shifting balloon face through your annul tubular contours all the way up your beautiful *** licking salivating tickling into your tender bowel and throat like a great dancing tongue a stretched waving goodness entering your mouth from the back side can pretty pretty do that? come slowly unto me my beloved i am all chromatophores endless glittering nightlights incandescent so we may wander our way through long dim nights ****** in the deep deep dark with tentacle ***** galore an infinity of entertainment for every crevice and desire and one winking cycloptic eye that pierces your soul
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
From the Deep Deep Dark...Ero ****
i'm your o so wanna be lover I'm afraid not what you would expect though i admit to being a difficult pleasure perhaps a tad strange looking squishy with long tentacles half man half octopus with a winking cycloptic eye i entreat you looks can be deceiving how many pretty boys have you loved crawling worms for a soul that have left you a ruined creel a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation have you ever asked your self who adores you who would give all to protect love and cherish i'm waving my eight arms at you from the center of the universe i eat black holes to kiss your *** am i not a cosmic horror with my big Cthulhu smile quivering with tenderness do you hunger for butter **** lollypop i have two big **** heartbreakers with teardrop curves a feast for your ravenous holes of emptiness and many armed tentacles to hold you tight to slither all over your tender woven caves to pull you into me with suckers that thrill during swirling inky ***** i will unravel your mind your soul tilthed if you can get passed my gray rubbery boneless head i can push this shape-shifting balloon face through your annul tubular contours all the way up your beautiful *** licking salivating tickling into your tender bowel and throat like a great dancing tongue a stretched waving goodness entering your mouth from the back side can pretty pretty do that? come slowly unto me my beloved i am all chromatophores endless glittering nightlights incandescent so we may wander our way through long dim nights ****** in the deep deep dark with tentacle ***** galore an infinity of entertainment for every crevice and desire and one winking cycloptic eye that pierces your soul
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all aluminum alloy ammo   bane bat brakes badly basters back bones come call cthulhu Cristo cuz dead ********** dominate de download   even elven eternal endowments fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity how hella homeboys have how he has If I ignore I implicate its implore jack jacks jacks kay killla kooks krack LAPD locks la lackeys maybe mom made mad monoxide no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes oh over overt opp only overlay orphic please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity quiet quivers quiet queens remember rage reaps reciprocity so sour sits supplanters sat to tell them to tare trail *** tat? universal unhappiness underlays under us victory validates victors vanity why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish zero zag zealots zoos
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Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
Untitled
My god is love Your god is God I know it sounds odd I wish to be cod That swim through your veins Until I go insane Invading your mind So I may know your kind I have to tip my hat When you say the world is flat And I shift into a stiffer constitution When you say you don't believe in evolution My love is strictly fundamental Our differences infinitesimal I cannot deny This temptation inside This inflation of mine I want to walk with you like Jesus If in that moment you could freeze us I'd believe forever Through any endeavor That two gods were merged And true odds were purged My life would be surged Into perfection By a reception Love is a fabled fraud on the scene Until I find a god in the machine You heretically hide in between Fields of green and wet dreams Your smile takes me there To realize we're no pair So I become Cthulhu In order to fool you When you're the giant squid And I'm just a kid If I want to be caught in your tendrils I'll have to work on my fundamentals I dream of Athena After you make Cupid look stupid While holding a noose With the power of Zeus But I still want more To hammer like Thor Yet after all my plotting I'm still frozen like Skadi When I face a titanic task I wear a panicked mask Obtaining a reluctant martyr's luck When my emotions run hot as **** I face the wrath of god Inside your cattle **** So I wait like the Buddha Wishing I never knew ya
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
Gods
How sweet the name of Cthulhu sounds In raving mystics' screams! It drives them mad, enflames their brains, And troubles all their dreams. It brings insanity and dread Into the world of men, This world which once seemed safe and sane Shall not make sense again. We gaze upon thy face more dread Than any watchful dragon; And sing the eternal hymn to thee, Ia ia Cthulhu fhtagn. Cthulhu! my dead yet sleeping king, Thy cults shall be restored, Thy tomb shall rise to air again, Just, r'lyeh, r'lyeh, Lord. Weak is our twisted woodland dance And cold our campfires cursed, But when the stars shall rise aright, We shall be eaten first.
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May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 6:26 PM UTC
How sweet the name of Cthulhu sounds
Did Lovecraft have it right no heaven but hell cold and wet and dark Wandering insane not right in the brain hell having left it's mark The slip and the slide unheard and unseen creeping just beyond ken Plausible creaks and blood that will streak every now and then How do we gauge it's existence comprehension just out of reach Letting our own imaginations wander and stumble the peaks Our hair standing up high on the napes of our neck Superstitions of myth and of legend no facts, just fictions too check
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
Cthulhu's bane
Tremble and hail at Cthulhu's call Who is Cthulhu? the Ancient One, A Dark God first recorded by H.P Lovecraft once long ago Now, Cthulhu has several followers few at first but rapidly on the rise Cthulhu is very real and soon will be revealed He's in deep slumber Way below in R'lyeh far under the sea If ever he shall awaken The whole world will be shaken All humanity will be lost Only a whisper of a spell From the Necronomican Can seal him back to his tomb Beware for when the stars align, R'lyeh will suddenly appear and Cthulhu will revive his subjects To rule this Earth once more Cthulhu, the powerful, ancient, and he who knows all Come and heed his call He speaks telepathy to those who will listen Come, Cthulhu, your child awaits To hear your voice and spread your message To those who don't believe
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Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 12:59 AM UTC
Cthulhu
To swim the slimy seas the ocean o’er And gag upon the rank and rotten air Filthy with sailor’s curse and foulest swear In search of lost and dearly loved Lenore, To open up the inner sanctum’s door And call (in tongues unfit for holy prayer) Clammy Cthulhu forth from out his lair, Will be to me most pleasant evermore. And like a count who shuns the light of day And moves by candlelight in chilly gloom, Or a black witch that wears a sacred bloom Of belladonna on her breast alway, I live where the scarecrow spies the blackbird’s lark: I live within the cold and rainy dark. O.O
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
The Cold and Rainy Dark
Children of the moon Wait for Cthulhu's return As they dine on human fear In hopes he will appear When The stars align It will stand with straightened spin opening his tired eyes Followed by the worlds demise Sleeping in a hole Far beneath the sea He delivers horrid scenes to a chosen fews dreams Visions of the future Drowned in smouldered ash Screams of countless voices Silenced in a flash When you look upon his face A horror to behold There’s no chance to turn and run Your soul has turned too cold
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Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
Cthulhu’s Dream
in the void the darkness the sapphire shadows below i have waken soon all of mankind will know from the waters i rise to bring you a cold wet demise the tides they turn  the moon she burns the great flood is here the ground soaks in the oceans tears oh my followers they wept deep down in the depths how long have i slept? celestial dreams my planet of rings judgment and their cries "no one can escape her watchful eyes" now that i am awake terra she shakes man is five and yes i am eight the tentacles from your nightmares the dreams that you hate the cleanse has begun my song  is now sung all hear my call the great cthulhu brings you your fall
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Nov 26, 2020
Nov 26, 2020 at 12:30 AM UTC
the call
From dankest monsters we desire increase, That thereby Cthulhu's rose might never fly, But as the ****** should by time travel, His tender hare might bear(the bear would eat the hare though) his memory: But thou, contracted ebola to thine own bright laser eyes, Feed'st thy light's rave with self-substantial diesel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding. Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
Sonnet 1
To sailors mad and poets in pain, In dreams of unimagined colors, Appeared Cthulhu horror-bearer Spreading phantoms to their brain Praise Cthulhu Lord of Terror Harbor of sleep to the insane.
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 6:01 PM UTC
In R'lyeh He awoke
Step to me, o' child of sun. Come along, o' mother moon. Join us all, o' father time. To a place where all laws stop. Space, Time, Order, Chaos. Endlessly shifting, altered eternal. Dimensions shatter, reality falls. Forces bubble, gravity smashed. Crackling quarks, equal Universal heart attack. Past the end of forever, and Through the border of nevermore. To see the secret of the universe, Follow me to the edge of infinity. Life, Death, Love, Hate. Man's quest, forever unanswered. Truth and lies, dishonest alibis. Questioning reason, senses falter. Beyond understanding, lies true reality. Cthulhu rules, Man madly dies. Turn through time eternal. Rush past the door of eternity. To see the secret of the universe, You must follow to the edge of infinity.
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
The Edge of Infinity
It should be the most desired sight of all the person whom you hope to live and die so, this fire feels like love against our skin we ramble on, in stasis, caught ablaze and smoke fills our lungs. There are sirens too loud and too few to do any rescuing. Kiss me you, fool. Before the sky envelops us, there's a mammoth of an alien peaking through the sky's cracks, tentacles grabbing. No mercy. There are no words, for stars littering the sky at daylight, and there's no use in semantics for what unravels in front of us. But mathematics and optics, equations letting sight pierce through time. We are gorgeous as we gasp for air, our life forces divided, and allotted to some place distant. What would our ancestors say? Too proud to hike up death's skirt and steal a look. Isn't this what we are? Hungry. Would they be proud or would we be considered fools to think we are untouchable? Why not let our lips spark like the bolts igniting the sky, why not resort ourselves to ghosts and haunt each other's great relatives Shouldn't we give in and behave as if we're the last of our kind?
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Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 12:58 AM UTC
Cthulhu's Love Song: After Adrienne Rich
What if we said no to demons we already know
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
Back off Beelzebub! Shove off Cthulhu! (10w)
You are not summoning some young **** It’s Saitama or Cthulhu in a **** poor mood cuz the peasant keep ******* up his voodoo. But you knew that, didn’t you? Yeah, I bet. In fact, let me check. Yes, there’s that obvious lack of respect. I’d recognize your cowardice object anywhere. I acknowledge it and deflect. What’s next? No thanks. Sounds like you need to detox anyway.
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Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
Cowardice
God, I wish I was a demonic Cthulhu-like being. Bearing appendages that are reminiscent of a squids tentacles, with the exception of having pulsing **** heads on the ends. I've had some fun with these sick and low thoughts.
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Dec 22, 2021
Dec 22, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC
******
Regreso del mas alla,
con otra cara que no tiene,
el doctor.

El doctor se mueve en el espacio,
con manos mas que manos.
Tiene una cara que no se espera.
Yo quisiendo ser diferente,
tendre que esperar siglos,
y poemas, operas y mas. A tender y regresar a otra piel Se da cuenta que es Cthulhu Es propio de sus astucias Es audaz y magistral Es poca su desolación Es menester su cuerpo oscuro Oscuro el master que maneja Es mas que original es piel Es Doctor StrangeLuv and how to love to time travel
0
Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 8:17 PM UTC
Hubbie
and the difference between a higher tier whiskey and a lower tier whiskey? higher tier: pale amber... lower tier: tickling caramel bourbon... and yes: i like my alcohol with a story of its own, one of exploring the palette... yes... glen moray: there's certainly butter-scotch in it... but the lemongrass? not with every glass, which is why i find connoisseurs suspect... not from one glass, and certainly not from a sniffing around... unlike ***** drank properly: shoved into a freezer and then drank smoothly like a gômme syrop... whiskey: the profanity of sipping it straight... or mixing it like some British WWI colonel with some soda water... on ice... one minute delay... culls the bite of any excess Smokey Fitzpaddy left... neck on the guillotine! oh but i have drank to the brain-drain body numbing stages of youth's exploits... famously Edinburgh's snakebite: half a cider, half a lagger topped with blackcurrant concentrate... what?! not lagger? what then... lager, i.e. lay-ger? digger not dye-ger of diger? no via no why as to why: it's dein-ger for danger and hop-hop for the dagger of Brutus? et tu: tutti ******* frutti... hop-hop: Easter bunny softy, as i... et tu: as an epitaph with no grave... and however many maxims... said puppet in the fiddly tongue-tied aspect of death's philosopher stone: the Hindu wild-eyed traffic of reincarnation... epitaph contra maxims: life's load and a foot dent on the earth like: the one that they won't take a photograph of: as they did of the one on the moon... pointless going to Mars... not taking random earth objects to the moon... to see: funny-whacky gravity do don't: sample some clock-ticking on the father to the daughters of the tides, the rains... and all: and they minded the egoist... while they shoved the whole universe in their minds with cthulhu receptors: and... well... it wasn't exactly 1990s television static... or... what the sight of Belzeebub looks like... the whole lagger not lager "debate"? i don't even want to bring diacritical marks into this... and i won't! first prize: silver sputnik of brunswick... now all i'm missing is a banjo... and a toothpick... as ever this medium: concentrates upon the motto: sequor lepus albus.
0
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 8:19 PM UTC
glen moray: connoisseurs suspect / sequor lepus albus
and the difference between a higher tier whiskey and a lower tier whiskey? higher tier: pale amber... lower tier: tickling caramel bourbon... and yes: i like my alcohol with a story of its own, one of exploring the palette... yes... glen moray: there's certainly butter-scotch in it... but the lemongrass? not with every glass, which is why i find connoisseurs suspect... not from one glass, and certainly not from a sniffing around... unlike ***** drank properly: shoved into a freezer and then drank smoothly like a gômme syrop... whiskey: the profanity of sipping it straight... or mixing it like some British WWI colonel with some soda water... on ice... one minute delay... culls the bite of any excess Smokey Fitzpaddy left... neck on the guillotine! oh but i have drank to the brain-drain body numbing stages of youth's exploits... famously Edinburgh's snakebite: half a cider, half a lagger topped with blackcurrant concentrate... what?! not lagger? what then... lager, i.e. lay-ger? digger not dye-ger of diger? no via no why as to why: it's dein-ger for danger and hop-hop for the dagger of Brutus? et tu: tutti ******* frutti... hop-hop: Easter bunny softy, as i... et tu: as an epitaph with no grave... and however many maxims... said puppet in the fiddly tongue-tied aspect of death's philosopher stone: the Hindu wild-eyed traffic of reincarnation... epitaph contra maxims: life's load and a foot dent on the earth like: the one that they won't take a photograph of: as they did of the one on the moon... pointless going to Mars... not taking random earth objects to the moon... to see: funny-whacky gravity do don't: sample some clock-ticking on the father to the daughters of the tides, the rains... and all: and they minded the egoist... while they shoved the whole universe in their minds with cthulhu receptors: and... well... it wasn't exactly 1990s television static... or... what the sight of Belzeebub looks like... the whole lagger not lager "debate"? i don't even want to bring diacritical marks into this... and i won't! first prize: silver sputnik of brunswick... now all i'm missing is a banjo... and a toothpick... as ever this medium: concentrates upon the motto: sequor lepus albus.
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