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"cyrus" poems
In the dour ages Of drafty cells and draftier castles, Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables, Saint and king unfisted obstruction's knuckles By no miracle or majestic means, But by such abuses As smack of spite and the overscrupulous Twisting of thumbscrews: one soul tied in sinews, One white horse drowned, and all the unconquered pinnacles Of God's city and Babylon's Must wait, while here Suso's Hand hones his tack and needles, Scouraging to sores his own red sluices For the relish of heaven, relentless, dousing with prickles Of horsehair and lice his ***** ***** While there irate Cyrus Squanders a summer and the brawn of his heroes To rebuke the horse-swallowing River Gyndes: He split it into three hundred and sixty trickles A girl could wade without wetting her shins. Still, latter-day sages, Smiling at this behavior, subjugating their enemies Neatly, nicely, by disbelief or bridges, Never grip, as the grandsires did, that devil who chuckles From grain of the marrow and the river-bed grains.
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6.3k
A Lesson In Vengeance
I was dancing at a dance club Two stepping all about When my thumb, it found a belt loop And I couldn't get it out I shifted and I wiggled I ****** my hips out front in time I bent over and I shimmied I was twerking on the line Now, I ain't no Miley Cyrus You can believe me now or not I wasn't up there twerking It's because my thumb was caught I sashayed and I moseyed And others got up too My thumb was still encumbered What the hell was I to do? I was twerking like a mad man Not knowing how, or  why But the pain in my one digit Just made me want to die Maybe now I know the reason Miley Cyrus did her dance She wasn't up there being slutty She had her thumb stuck in her pants Now, I'm through with twerking And there's is one thing that you'll find That unlike young Miley Cyrus You don't want to watch me from behind!!!
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Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
The Twerking Two Step
coupon for Granny's Original 32% All Natural Oatmeal® cart-to-cart down aisle 48 and this man's an affront to khakis and this woman's brain runs off a child's complaints BLIZZARD 2013 according to the radar, buy 80 pounds of rock salt from The Home Depot®, more saving. more doing.™ more rock salt. more doing BLIZZARD 2013 according to the radar, buy two-weeks-worth of tuna, a pallet of Pepsi Max®, and four loaves of Baker Good's NeverMold Bread® all for $21.99 with your Sam's Club® Rewards Card BLIZZARD 2013 cart-to-cart down aisle 62 where once there was soda, now an I.O.U. and I read on the internet that the preservatives in diet cola will keep my body from decomposing and I read on the internet that these dented, discount tuna cans will give me botulism BLIZZARD 2013 one jug of water from a spring in Mountain View, Arkansas one jug of water from a spring in New Iberia, Louisiana picking between Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana the pitter-patter on the warehouse roof reassures time for eenie meenie miney mo BLIZZARD 2013 and the intercom desperate for a cart wrangler customer service now open for checkout don't leave your toddlers alone in shopping carts they're choking on free samples with an echo, raindrops strike parking lot pools just past the intersection an ambulance grumbles BLIZZARD 2013 in a room with a view wishing the windowpane weatherized beers bought by volume, candles forgotten, six months of licorice, EverFluff® popcorn, and hand warmers of chemical kind remembered BLIZZARD 2013 will not be landing in the city, watch out for that rain though if the temperatures drop below 32 degrees it could ice over and if the temperatures don't, well, it won't News 7's coverage of Blizzard 2013 brought to you by The Home Depot®, more saving. More doing.™ and Sam's Club®, savings made simple.™
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Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
the blizzard of 2013
coupon for Granny's Original 32% All Natural Oatmeal® cart-to-cart down aisle 48 and this man's an affront to khakis and this woman's brain runs off a child's complaints BLIZZARD 2013 according to the radar, buy 80 pounds of rock salt from The Home Depot®, more saving. more doing.™ more rock salt. more doing BLIZZARD 2013 according to the radar, buy two-weeks-worth of tuna, a pallet of Pepsi Max®, and four loaves of Baker Good's NeverMold Bread® all for $21.99 with your Sam's Club® Rewards Card BLIZZARD 2013 cart-to-cart down aisle 62 where once there was soda, now an I.O.U. and I read on the internet that the preservatives in diet cola will keep my body from decomposing and I read on the internet that these dented, discount tuna cans will give me botulism BLIZZARD 2013 one jug of water from a spring in Mountain View, Arkansas one jug of water from a spring in New Iberia, Louisiana picking between Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana the pitter-patter on the warehouse roof reassures time for eenie meenie miney mo BLIZZARD 2013 and the intercom desperate for a cart wrangler customer service now open for checkout don't leave your toddlers alone in shopping carts they're choking on free samples with an echo, raindrops strike parking lot pools just past the intersection an ambulance grumbles BLIZZARD 2013 in a room with a view wishing the windowpane weatherized beers bought by volume, candles forgotten, six months of licorice, EverFluff® popcorn, and hand warmers of chemical kind remembered BLIZZARD 2013 will not be landing in the city, watch out for that rain though if the temperatures drop below 32 degrees it could ice over and if the temperatures don't, well, it won't News 7's coverage of Blizzard 2013 brought to you by The Home Depot®, more saving. More doing.™ and Sam's Club®, savings made simple.™
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41
i decided to take a break from snapping selfies i'm a child of this century and that is our primary form of communication - don't judge me anyway, i've found that it's really not that hard if you think you look ugly all the time it's ******* easy.
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
miley cyrus made me an introvert
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human. I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin. Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store. Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door. You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die. Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie. What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys? Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas? I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames. How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names. Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames. Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-sucking games. Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work, Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk, Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle **** Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-jerk-smirk. It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge, Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge, When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge, To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge. Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky, But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky, I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me, Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me. Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight. If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright. One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot, Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
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Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 9:28 PM UTC
What's Left...
I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human. I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin. Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store. Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door. You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die. Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie. What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys? Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas? I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames. How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names. Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames. Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-sucking games. Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work, Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk, Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle **** Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-jerk-smirk. It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge, Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge, When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge, To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge. Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky, But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky, I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me, Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me. Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight. If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright. One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot, Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
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28
Ain't about how fast I get there Ain't about what's waiting on the other side It's the climb Keep on moving, keep climbing Keep the faith, baby It's all about, it's all about the climb Keep the faith, keep your faith (Miley Cyrus, The Climb)
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May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:10 PM UTC
The Climb
Born and raised in Franklin Tennessee Destiny Ray Cyrus changed to Miley. Hannah Montana might be how she’s known Now she’s crazy, making old people groans At the VMAs she’s a teddy bear No longer does she have long, brown hair She used to sing songs like “Nobody’s perfect” Now she sings songs about how to twerk it. She says, “I’m used to people judging me.” And doesn’t mind if people let her be Halloween, little kim with purple hair Going places that no one else would dare Her role models: Britney and Madonna Her manager” her own birthing momma You may not say she is an original But one thing’s for sure, she’s not invisible
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:12 AM UTC
Miley Cyrus
-- To Miley Cyrus I don't care for you. As hard as it is to say, I don't care for you!
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
I Don't Care For You (Haiku Poem)
Best Week Ever Just had my best week of all time, I'm 42 but still in my prime. Spent some time with Brittany Spears, I left her begging and in tears. After a night with Beyonce, she wanted me to be her fiance. Just one night with Pink, now she can't even blink. Had a date with Katy Perry, she asked me to pop her cherry. Spent some time with J-Lo, she was more sloppy than a joe. Rihanna likes to play rough, **** she looks good in the buff. Me and Fergie ate some black eyed peas, then we were joined by Alicia keys. Had a blast with Taylor Swift, we did it on a ski lift. Avril Lavinge wanted it never to end, now she wants to be her boyfriend. I turned Miley Cyrus back into Hannah Montana, its a secret what we did with a banana. Me and Kesha sang her hit Tik Tok, then she ****** on my clock. Selena Gomez is a witch no more, I turned her into my little ***** Carrie Underwood won't slash my tires, the heat between us started some fires. Gwen Stefani left the singer from Bush, she loved the way I smacked her **** Lady Ga Ga showed me her poker face, with her I reached every base. Me and Lita Ford kissed each other deadly, then she sang me a **** medley. Madonna said I was her best, we spent no time dressed. I was man enough for Sheryl Crow, let me tell you, she can really blow. As the week ended, I had Shakira moving her hips, then I woke up and it was an **** with Gladys Night and her Pips.
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Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Best Week Ever
I am a puzzle piece. Not a piece that connects with the other pieces. But a piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit with the others. I wasn't like the other kids at my school. Not one one corner of me would connect with any other person “You don’t like Gossip Girl?” No I watch shows about people with real problems, like the news. “I can’t believe you don’t like the new Miley Cyrus album” You should believe because I don’t listen to trash that would decompose my brain. One day I told my dad my concept. “Dad I am a puzzle piece that doesn't fit with others.” He told me “You’re right. But its not that you don’t fit in. You are a puzzle piece in the wrong box.” He was right. I am a puzzle piece. A piece of a puzzle that was probably dropped in the wrong set of pieces. I am on a journey to find the rest of my set. Even if its a set of four pieces
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
Puzzle
And I don't give a **** that's my whole M.O. I rock the whole globe with no problemo Been rocking coats since my first demo And now I'm banging hoes in the continental And I done seen me slidin' out my dope ride I open up the doorsthe doors, suicide I came from the bottom, the sewer side I made it to the topthe top cause I do it fly Feelin' fuckin' lucky like the fuckin' Irish I see the whole game from my third Iris I tour the whole world like a ***** pirate To give the whole club some Miley Cyrus
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
iris
The Smell of Honey,  Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry <^> *my poetry suffers from a literately literacy, the adjectivally of imagery wears away with time and age eroding the imagination, when one’s days are numbered, being serious is an natural unpleasant hazardous haze, never in doubt The morning meal of cooked oatmeal, steel cut, laced with wildflower honey, slices of honey crisp apples and Hawaiian coffee brewed,   singes the Tropical Storm Ophelia thrumming humidity that overhangs the ugly grays of NYC sky-paths, one tickles me awake with contradictory impulses: sweet and sour, a robust stimulative, competing with the smothering of grayling clouded weather weariness of 48 hours of rainy continuity, a spirit suffocate you see! give you myself, my environment, in précis, unimaginative exactly as it occurs to me, sensually, yes, but cannot shake my disappointment that no, can’t combine visionary notions that spin your swivel chair around, powered by your exclamations of ooh, ahh, and little stabs of weeee punctuating our shared atmosphere and bring forth only love poetry but no mas, the love poetry doesn’t comes to the fore, the forehead stuffed with words best listed as basic, observable, factual, Miley Cyrus, accuses me of being jaded, but not with accuracy, more straight jacketed, way past that half-way point of no return, turning back is not a listed menu option love poetry demands, requires and requests envisioning, precursor to dreaming, but I am choking on matters-of-fact, questions of survivability, that do not shed love poetry words, I love exclaiming to any and all within hailing distance, my loving firmament, but the damp atmosphere swallows my hopes and sounds, even though still can smell the lingering nearness odor of honey and apple, yet, other hints of memory beg to differ, and I sadly and easy confess,* this is not a lovely poem… - * -
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Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 12:44 PM UTC
The Smell of Honey, Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry
The Smell of Honey,  Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but No Love Poetry <^> *my poetry suffers from a literately literacy, the adjectivally of imagery wears away with time and age eroding the imagination, when one’s days are numbered, being serious is an natural unpleasant hazardous haze, never in doubt The morning meal of cooked oatmeal, steel cut, laced with wildflower honey, slices of honey crisp apples and Hawaiian coffee brewed,   singes the Tropical Storm Ophelia thrumming humidity that overhangs the ugly grays of NYC sky-paths, one tickles me awake with contradictory impulses: sweet and sour, a robust stimulative, competing with the smothering of grayling clouded weather weariness of 48 hours of rainy continuity, a spirit suffocate you see! give you myself, my environment, in précis, unimaginative exactly as it occurs to me, sensually, yes, but cannot shake my disappointment that no, can’t combine visionary notions that spin your swivel chair around, powered by your exclamations of ooh, ahh, and little stabs of weeee punctuating our shared atmosphere and bring forth only love poetry but no mas, the love poetry doesn’t comes to the fore, the forehead stuffed with words best listed as basic, observable, factual, Miley Cyrus, accuses me of being jaded, but not with accuracy, more straight jacketed, way past that half-way point of no return, turning back is not a listed menu option love poetry demands, requires and requests envisioning, precursor to dreaming, but I am choking on matters-of-fact, questions of survivability, that do not shed love poetry words, I love exclaiming to any and all within hailing distance, my loving firmament, but the damp atmosphere swallows my hopes and sounds, even though still can smell the lingering nearness odor of honey and apple, yet, other hints of memory beg to differ, and I sadly and easy confess,* this is not a lovely poem… - * -
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55
While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing Ben a homeless veteran of war, had a heart attack, fell from his wheelchair and died and people stepped over him. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing A forest fire burned in Yosemite National park and Sierra Nevada destroying homes, and threatening wildlife including 200 year old redwood trees. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing Latonya lost her job, and in turn her apartment and in turn the custody of her children. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing Yu fellated a man in a sweaty brothel who was nearly four times her age. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Plant leaked tons of radioactive fluid into the Pacific. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing Syrian President Bashar al-Assad used chemical weapons on his own people. While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
While people talked about what Miley Cyrus was wearing
Once day there was a dog and he decided to **** a frog beastiliaty, no, the dog's an animal like miley cyrus and he's spying on us and one man didn't like that idea so he shot a deer and the deer escaped the bullet like a queer and ran into a dog in the middle of the road knocking the dog over in the middle of the road then a car came but the driver was blind and then the blind man hit the dog on the side dog is now dead bury his head and give him head ;)
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Dog ran over
“As the music goes all Ariana, And the Manhattan crowd goes all Cyrus, My eyes just stick to my Cinderella, As she amazingly sways her hips to his Cruise.”
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
Tale
Cyrus was a butcher, the ladies thought him sweet, and when they spoke, the gals would joke about old Cyrus' meat. But soon the missus told 'em, her one and only beef- forget the size or how he'd rise, Old Cyrus was too brief. His brother, Clive, the baker, a young and heavy lad, was paid no mind by womankind cause of the weight he had. But soon the missus told 'em, with a twinkle in her eye, Forget the size, or how he'd rise, that boy could eat a pie!
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
The Butcher and the Baker
Flying upon the sea Mystifying as the aqua gleams Body at freeze Ego at ease Soul at peace Plunging towards the captivating vibration, I go Clicking towards the mind, is a bowl A metallic bowl within mere space Flowing with the vibrant, warm water Deeper and deeper below No time no 'life', as everything is at slow Deeper and deeper the faster I slope Bubbles glistening and popping into my skin Not knowing how or so thus had begin Deeper and deeper below Near, under, and through my physical barrier Gliding through, swimming, diving upon my soul Just as I am doing towards the bowl as the closer I go to meet a hole Cyrus! Cyrus! Feeling a distant call Very distant, very low Bubble, bubble, pop pop Sliding out every aspect of barriers I seemed to have They met at the open Thus my ego Cyrus, were formed as a token Deep whispers through his ears were spoken Telling him Holding his very sanity Keeping his sense of vanity Explode Particles within the tank Within the bowl Meeting every physical barrier it had Acid Burned and burned until all there was, was a purple smoke
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
Below is the High
I spent my early life Looking out from behind The chain link fence on the turkey farm There they fed me right Fattened up my thighs After all, what could be the harm If it was up to me I would never leave It's where I prefer to spend my years But alas will come the day When all good turkey's have to say Arrivederci...I am outta here           I was born to be a Butter Ball           Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door           To be a tender turkey is my call           And all you want to do is eat me           Yes, you wanna eat me They just took Turkey Jack To the shed out back Where we never heard from him again Just like yesterday With my friend Turkey Dave Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim Am I the next in line Could this here be my time My head placed on the chopping block As I say my goodbyes To all the gals and guys I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought           I was born to be a Butter Ball           So delicious they're coming back for more           Tenderized to the very core           All they want to do is eat me                      I was born to be a Butter Ball           A slap in the face to the Honey Ham           To be a tinder turkey is my call           Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams Now that you know my tale I hope I told it well Enjoy this day with your family and your friends So remember then Don't leave the stuffing in And dinner will go the way that it was planned           I was born to be a Butter Ball           The highest honor of them all           Into the open oven I must fall           Cause all you want to do is eat me           Yes, all you wanna do is eat me
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
Butter Ball (To the tune of Wreaking Ball) by Miley Cyrus
I spent my early life Looking out from behind The chain link fence on the turkey farm There they fed me right Fattened up my thighs After all, what could be the harm If it was up to me I would never leave It's where I prefer to spend my years But alas will come the day When all good turkey's have to say Arrivederci...I am outta here           I was born to be a Butter Ball           Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door           To be a tender turkey is my call           And all you want to do is eat me           Yes, you wanna eat me They just took Turkey Jack To the shed out back Where we never heard from him again Just like yesterday With my friend Turkey Dave Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim Am I the next in line Could this here be my time My head placed on the chopping block As I say my goodbyes To all the gals and guys I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought           I was born to be a Butter Ball           So delicious they're coming back for more           Tenderized to the very core           All they want to do is eat me                      I was born to be a Butter Ball           A slap in the face to the Honey Ham           To be a tinder turkey is my call           Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams Now that you know my tale I hope I told it well Enjoy this day with your family and your friends So remember then Don't leave the stuffing in And dinner will go the way that it was planned           I was born to be a Butter Ball           The highest honor of them all           Into the open oven I must fall           Cause all you want to do is eat me           Yes, all you wanna do is eat me
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48
Everyone   is born pure,     I think. Imagine red-hot   ****** metal. Clay is given to two   people. Two. Sometimes one person leaves.   The metal is too hot.   Hey, this isn't for me, he or she says.   Shame if it's the mom. Push it out. Check out   of the heartbreak motel.   But it's all the same, I suppose:   Mom or dad. Red-hot ****** metal,   sitting at the playground. Teacher says,   Play with the other kids. Teacher says,   Does the world seem big     because it's so scary? Teacher says,   What is your nature? Teacher says,   Play with the other kids--     think of it as       networking.   Time to graduate. You ******* queer,   said the news. Yeah you,   said the news. Look over here,   said the news. Bombs, **** ******* ******* ***** spics, ****** school shootings, drugs, suicide, famine, STDs, rap music, Jews, Obama, Putin, North Korea, Ferguson,   said the news. By the way,   said the news. Have you seen   Miley Cyrus' nip slip,   said the news. Graduation night.   Rumbling 'round the warm, bath water   city lights. Her hand in his.   She looks over, What is your nature? I had a teacher   ask me that, he said. They ****** underneath   an apple tree. This is what the rain is for.   What? This is what the rain is for.   To get us wet? No, ********   Because I already     had you wet. Ha-ha. Very funny...     No, it's for washing away       memories of ***         under a tree. Birth. Two people. Two.   Let's name him, she said.   Let's fail him, he said.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
birth
Everyone   is born pure,     I think. Imagine red-hot   ****** metal. Clay is given to two   people. Two. Sometimes one person leaves.   The metal is too hot.   Hey, this isn't for me, he or she says.   Shame if it's the mom. Push it out. Check out   of the heartbreak motel.   But it's all the same, I suppose:   Mom or dad. Red-hot ****** metal,   sitting at the playground. Teacher says,   Play with the other kids. Teacher says,   Does the world seem big     because it's so scary? Teacher says,   What is your nature? Teacher says,   Play with the other kids--     think of it as       networking.   Time to graduate. You ******* queer,   said the news. Yeah you,   said the news. Look over here,   said the news. Bombs, **** ******* ******* ***** spics, ****** school shootings, drugs, suicide, famine, STDs, rap music, Jews, Obama, Putin, North Korea, Ferguson,   said the news. By the way,   said the news. Have you seen   Miley Cyrus' nip slip,   said the news. Graduation night.   Rumbling 'round the warm, bath water   city lights. Her hand in his.   She looks over, What is your nature? I had a teacher   ask me that, he said. They ****** underneath   an apple tree. This is what the rain is for.   What? This is what the rain is for.   To get us wet? No, ********   Because I already     had you wet. Ha-ha. Very funny...     No, it's for washing away       memories of ***         under a tree. Birth. Two people. Two.   Let's name him, she said.   Let's fail him, he said.
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80
Lost in the ghetto lands of blighted and brutal suburbia The naked children huddle before the fornicating image of Miley Cyrus And dare to dream ! •• Dream of escape! •• Escape into the blighted and brutal High Hills Of sordid Wealth and perverted Fame Where WE THE PEOPLE ********** lovingly before THE GODS! •• Sick! We are sick! Physically Emotionally Intellectually & Spiritually Sick Sick Sick!! •• (to put it mildly) •• Anyway So? ••• The weight of the world! (Not as heavy as the weight of our morbidly obese And disgustingly dying unloved bodies) But still THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD! -- (which, in fact, we do not bother to carry) •• The naked children (remember them?) They're still there huddling before the fornicating image of Miley Cyrus ////// ////// How do you suppose that they shall die? SUICIDE HEART FAILURE WAR RADIATION POISONING STARVATION •• Guess right and win a prize!!! ••• (Triviality is all that's left) .••• Unless? •• Unless you truly die and be reborn again
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
And as necessity dictates, we ..................
I spent my early life Looking out from behind The chain link fence on the turkey farm There they fed me right Fattened up my thighs After all, what could be the harm If it was up to me I would never leave It's where I prefer to spend my years But alas will come the day When all good turkey's have to say Arrivederci...I am outta here           I was born to be a Butter Ball           Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door           To be a tender turkey is my call           And all you want to do is eat me           Yes, you wanna eat me They just took Turkey Jack To the shed out back Where we never heard from him again Just like yesterday With my friend Turkey Dave Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim Am I the next in line Could this here be my time My head placed on the chopping block As I say my goodbyes To all the gals and guys I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought           I was born to be a Butter Ball           So delicious they're coming back for more           Tenderized to the very core           All they want to do is eat me                      I was born to be a Butter Ball           A slap in the face to the Honey Ham           To be a tinder turkey is my call           Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams Now that you know my tale I hope I told it well Enjoy this day with your family and your friends So remember then Don't leave the stuffing in And dinner will go the way that it was planned           I was born to be a Butter Ball           The highest honor of them all           Into the open oven I must fall           Cause all you want to do is eat me           Yes, all you wanna do is eat me
0
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
Butter Ball (To the tune of Wreaking Ball) by Miley Cyrus
I spent my early life Looking out from behind The chain link fence on the turkey farm There they fed me right Fattened up my thighs After all, what could be the harm If it was up to me I would never leave It's where I prefer to spend my years But alas will come the day When all good turkey's have to say Arrivederci...I am outta here           I was born to be a Butter Ball           Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door           To be a tender turkey is my call           And all you want to do is eat me           Yes, you wanna eat me They just took Turkey Jack To the shed out back Where we never heard from him again Just like yesterday With my friend Turkey Dave Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim Am I the next in line Could this here be my time My head placed on the chopping block As I say my goodbyes To all the gals and guys I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought           I was born to be a Butter Ball           So delicious they're coming back for more           Tenderized to the very core           All they want to do is eat me                      I was born to be a Butter Ball           A slap in the face to the Honey Ham           To be a tinder turkey is my call           Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams Now that you know my tale I hope I told it well Enjoy this day with your family and your friends So remember then Don't leave the stuffing in And dinner will go the way that it was planned           I was born to be a Butter Ball           The highest honor of them all           Into the open oven I must fall           Cause all you want to do is eat me           Yes, all you wanna do is eat me
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