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"daffy" poems
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
I will insure your golden goose for $100k/$300k respectively
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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59
Leafy ferns and little frogs Toads live in the garden Weeds and grass and daffodils And poop...I beg your pardon Yes **** is in there from the cat That roams around the houses Just pick it out or grind it in It should be full of mouses (meeces or mice) There's ceramic figurines in there Little deers and little dogs To go along with little stones And plastic little logs But, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see just where he's at There's ******* blown from up the road Candy wrappers and old tins The neighbor kids are lazy so, They never throw it in the bins The cat lies sunning lazily Beneath a summer sun of gold With it's job of chasing meeces down For a while, put on hold There's ivy, climbing everywhere And things you can not tell They got there from the squirrels But you keep them for the smell But, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see just where he's at You tend the garden lovingly Moving figures in and out You never move the gnomes too much Too much trouble, I won't doubt You transplant flowers, move some trees Cut the weeds back, till the soil You head inside, the whistle blows The kettles on the boil While you are gone, something goes on The gnomes attack the cat You come back out, and wonder why The gnome has lost his hat yes, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see he's looking at the cat!!
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
The Garden Gnomes
Leafy ferns and little frogs Toads live in the garden Weeds and grass and daffodils And poop...I beg your pardon Yes **** is in there from the cat That roams around the houses Just pick it out or grind it in It should be full of mouses (meeces or mice) There's ceramic figurines in there Little deers and little dogs To go along with little stones And plastic little logs But, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see just where he's at There's ******* blown from up the road Candy wrappers and old tins The neighbor kids are lazy so, They never throw it in the bins The cat lies sunning lazily Beneath a summer sun of gold With it's job of chasing meeces down For a while, put on hold There's ivy, climbing everywhere And things you can not tell They got there from the squirrels But you keep them for the smell But, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see just where he's at You tend the garden lovingly Moving figures in and out You never move the gnomes too much Too much trouble, I won't doubt You transplant flowers, move some trees Cut the weeds back, till the soil You head inside, the whistle blows The kettles on the boil While you are gone, something goes on The gnomes attack the cat You come back out, and wonder why The gnome has lost his hat yes, beware the garden gnome A treacherous beast is he With evil eyes and long white beard He is plotting after thee The garden gnome looks daffy In his jacket and his hat But, look deep in the gnomey eyes And you'll see he's looking at the cat!!
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60
daffy duck is tired daffy duck is quacking tired of being drawn and being scripted and engineered into always being a cartoon character; daffy duck no longer wants to be daffy duck the cartoon character daffy duck wants to be a philosopher which is all quite quacking satisfying even just to think about and so daffy duck the philosopher thinks: *daffy duck thinks, therefore daffy duck is; but if I, daffy duck do not think I am daffy duck and renounce all the scripts and the words and the expectations and the roles; if I do not think I am daffy duck I am no longer daffy duck or, for that matter, any quacking duck* and so (much to the dismay of loyal fans who want always to be Daffy Duck Fans) daffy duck is no more the cartoon character and becomes daffy duck the philosopher; and daffy duck the philosopher thinks himself out of the quacking role of daffy duck as any quacking duck or anybody at all (much to the dismay of loyal fans who want always to be Daffy Duck Fans)
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Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 2:34 AM UTC
daffy duck the philosopher
*This is one of the racier "Memories" poems by the great Barry Hodges, my alter ego. It might well make you come involuntarily in your ****** How happy was I once with the wind in my hair Wandering o'er the dales with joyousness unmeasur'd, In the sweet long passed innocent days of platonic love When stolen gropes and kiss were to be treasured. But all good and true things come to a sad close And my poor first love lies in her grave so sorrowfully Having been crushed to death by a runaway steamroller Before I managed to go all the way quite thoroughly. What a waste of delightful teenage flesh was that Yet perhaps I had a narrow escape from the derangement Which might have been mine had our trysting Led to a semi-permanent matrimonial arrangement. For I recall one afternoon in the old ABC cinema In the delighful Yorkshire spa town of Harrogate, Sitting next to my gorgeous love in the back row, Exploring her not so very private parts on a hot date. How I cursed the management's niggardly folly In not showing a film with hot romantic blood But saving pathetic pennies by putting on Daffy ******** Duck and Elmer ******* Fudd. But yet I perserved with my digital explorations Unaware that the throbs my fingers felt were no dream But darling Elsie laughing like a proverbial drain At Daffy's hilarious anatine adventures on-screen. 'Twas then I began to wonder about the viscous liquid I had hitherto imagined was Elsie's lovejuice flowing *(dear, dear reader, cease your perusal of my tale forthwith if you are of a nervous disposition or prone to food up-throwing)*. It was only a careful examination of my sopping knuckles In the dimly lit gents after old Daffy's film was done and dusted Which revealed that my dearly beloved had leaked Big time out of both ends, leaving my fingers well encrusted. O to think that, but for Daffy, I might have been lumbered With a different kind of bird for whom double incontinence Was a way of life (thus, the fatal steamroller she encountered The very next day was a blessing from kindly Providence).
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
Memories of Harrogate and the Yorkshire Dales
*This is one of the racier "Memories" poems by the great Barry Hodges, my alter ego. It might well make you come involuntarily in your ****** How happy was I once with the wind in my hair Wandering o'er the dales with joyousness unmeasur'd, In the sweet long passed innocent days of platonic love When stolen gropes and kiss were to be treasured. But all good and true things come to a sad close And my poor first love lies in her grave so sorrowfully Having been crushed to death by a runaway steamroller Before I managed to go all the way quite thoroughly. What a waste of delightful teenage flesh was that Yet perhaps I had a narrow escape from the derangement Which might have been mine had our trysting Led to a semi-permanent matrimonial arrangement. For I recall one afternoon in the old ABC cinema In the delighful Yorkshire spa town of Harrogate, Sitting next to my gorgeous love in the back row, Exploring her not so very private parts on a hot date. How I cursed the management's niggardly folly In not showing a film with hot romantic blood But saving pathetic pennies by putting on Daffy ******** Duck and Elmer ******* Fudd. But yet I perserved with my digital explorations Unaware that the throbs my fingers felt were no dream But darling Elsie laughing like a proverbial drain At Daffy's hilarious anatine adventures on-screen. 'Twas then I began to wonder about the viscous liquid I had hitherto imagined was Elsie's lovejuice flowing *(dear, dear reader, cease your perusal of my tale forthwith if you are of a nervous disposition or prone to food up-throwing)*. It was only a careful examination of my sopping knuckles In the dimly lit gents after old Daffy's film was done and dusted Which revealed that my dearly beloved had leaked Big time out of both ends, leaving my fingers well encrusted. O to think that, but for Daffy, I might have been lumbered With a different kind of bird for whom double incontinence Was a way of life (thus, the fatal steamroller she encountered The very next day was a blessing from kindly Providence).
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38
BAND concert public square Nebraska city. Flowing and circling dresses, summer-white dresses. Faces, flesh tints flung like sprays of cherry blossoms. And gigglers, God knows, gigglers, rivaling the pony whinnies of the Livery Stable Blues. Cowboy rags and ****** rags. And boys driving sorrel horses hurl a cornfield laughter at the girls in dresses, summer-white dresses. Amid the cornet staccato and the tuba oompa, gigglers, God knows, gigglers daffy with life's razzle dazzle. Slow good-night melodies and Home Sweet Home. And the snare drummer bookkeeper in a hardware store nods hello to the daughter of a railroad conductor-a giggler, God knows, a giggler-and the summer-white dresses filter fanwise out of the public square. The crushed strawberries of ice cream soda places, the night wind in cottonwoods and willows, the lattice shadows of doorsteps and porches, these know more of the story.
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3.9k
Band Concert
Loony Tunes Bugs Bunny is my favorite rabbit, watching him became my habit. He was smart, funny and two steps ahead, his popularity was very widespread. His best friend was Daffy Duck, he never did have the same luck. Rabbit season, duck season, rabbit season, duck season, watching them, I needed no reason. Speedy Gonzales was so very quick, this fast mouse was also a ***** Owned his own pizza place, won a gold metal, at the local rat race. Yosemite Sam was a short tempered man, killing Bugs and Daffy was always his plan. He's a liar, a cheat and a sore loser, maybe he should have been a drug user. Tasmanian Devil was a tornado of destruction, he never needed any kind of introduction. Foghorn Leghorn never saw a negative situation, I say, I say boy was his favorite quotation. Pepe Le Pew was a French skunk, women loved his smelly ***** Marvin The Martian was from Mars, his laser gun would leave you with scars. Tweety was an antagonizing canary, lived with Granny, and flew like a crafty fairy. Sylvester was Granny's pet cat, him and Tweety always went *** for tat. Road Runner was so very fast, said beep beep as Wile E Coyote he passed. Never fell for those Acme supplies, getting blown up was his ultimate demise. Porky Pig was just happy to be included, the, the that's all folks, is how this will be concluded.
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Loony Tunes
Sweet daffodil How silly a name Dances in the mouth Like our first kiss Sweet daffodil Sweetest of them all My dentist hates me daffodil All my cavities are from you Sweet daffodil How daffy you are Made me laugh all day Just like that old show we watched Sweet daffodil How I miss your sweet words And how silly your name is Fitting for such a silly grave
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Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 10:15 AM UTC
Sweet Daffodil
I think it’s actually real this time, That I'm waking to sweet bird songs, not the cancerous “Cuck-coo” from some clock at the end of her hall. When I wake, I want to see sunlight burning holes in window ledges, feel the chill flowing down my cheeks fighting the warmth falling up from my feet. I want to smell that sick stench that says I stayed out one shot too late, taste the combination of this and those that feel like trash behind my teeth. Forget for that brief instant between this and what comes next, That last night wasn't really love. That the girl-on-my-right used to be the girl-who-could-ride that too many drinks plus too many winks leads to  "My place?" No hers. that too many drinks plus too little cash leads to "Taxi?" Let’s walk. That too many drinks plus two a.m. leads to, well, You know. Before falling asleep I feel ashamed at forgetting her name turn on my side, close my eyes, and wait for the Sunrise. Only to be roused by the of the **** cuckoo at the end hall. I want to punch Daffy Duck in the face, break the road-runner’s neck, introduce Donald to rotisserie, and tie Tweety to the tail of a cat. All I think of is rage I could burn the clock, burn the house, burn... burn out, and pass out. This morning is real, it feels real, at least the hangover does. Last night's emotions are technicolor fantasies, only as real as the beak on an animated bird. The sun slips through the blinds and finds a rainbow trail of clothing, starting at the door and ending with our own little *** of gold. I roll out of her arms and slide down that road turning it into a line of lacy wears.   Sneaking down the hallway I feel the sun’s warmth and hear the birds chirping, calling me to the door. Behind me, I hear the cantankerous pretender crying from his wooden nest on the wall. His sound almost as sorry as his message, lamenting he can never break his cycle. never can wake up and feel what's actually real.
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 4:51 AM UTC
Cuck-Coo Dreams
I think it’s actually real this time, That I'm waking to sweet bird songs, not the cancerous “Cuck-coo” from some clock at the end of her hall. When I wake, I want to see sunlight burning holes in window ledges, feel the chill flowing down my cheeks fighting the warmth falling up from my feet. I want to smell that sick stench that says I stayed out one shot too late, taste the combination of this and those that feel like trash behind my teeth. Forget for that brief instant between this and what comes next, That last night wasn't really love. That the girl-on-my-right used to be the girl-who-could-ride that too many drinks plus too many winks leads to  "My place?" No hers. that too many drinks plus too little cash leads to "Taxi?" Let’s walk. That too many drinks plus two a.m. leads to, well, You know. Before falling asleep I feel ashamed at forgetting her name turn on my side, close my eyes, and wait for the Sunrise. Only to be roused by the of the **** cuckoo at the end hall. I want to punch Daffy Duck in the face, break the road-runner’s neck, introduce Donald to rotisserie, and tie Tweety to the tail of a cat. All I think of is rage I could burn the clock, burn the house, burn... burn out, and pass out. This morning is real, it feels real, at least the hangover does. Last night's emotions are technicolor fantasies, only as real as the beak on an animated bird. The sun slips through the blinds and finds a rainbow trail of clothing, starting at the door and ending with our own little *** of gold. I roll out of her arms and slide down that road turning it into a line of lacy wears.   Sneaking down the hallway I feel the sun’s warmth and hear the birds chirping, calling me to the door. Behind me, I hear the cantankerous pretender crying from his wooden nest on the wall. His sound almost as sorry as his message, lamenting he can never break his cycle. never can wake up and feel what's actually real.
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41
There was an old person of Wilts, Who constantly walked upon stilts; He wreathed them with lilies, And daffy-down-lilies, That elegant person of Wilts.
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1.4k
There Was An Old Person Of Wilts
Am I the only one that grew up watching ****** tunes? I loved those animals much more than the ones in the zoo Daffy, Bugs, porky, and Elmer Fudd, got me laughing as a kid, even when I was in a rut. But my favorite toon, if you couldn't guess was Wile E. Coyote, and Roadrunner, They to me were the best Would He ever catch his prey? as a kid I only fashioned a guess with each and every failed trap, showing the Roadrunner was blessed. Now to use these two metaphorically I'll be Wiley, and Roadrunner would be amour, you see. Now in every episode I keep trying to pin it down but just like Wiley, I get blown up, flattened, or otherwise hurt while it roams around maybe it's fate or a strange genetic trait all I know is sometimes living in a cartoon ***** WATCH OUT OF THAT TRU POW!!!!!!!
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Roadrunner
A changing pillow, so soft with its yellowness. A freshly laid outfit so fresh with the sweet smell of babies. A cowboy swinging with the joy of Christmas morning. The aroma of baby powder dancing in the air. The sound of a fist banging the wall. A cabinet filled with a collection of toys. A white Pooh Bear smiling at the chair with cowboys on the side. A rainforest setting singing italicrock a bye babyitalic. Tweetie, Sylvester, Bugs Bunny, and Daffy Duck swinging on a merry go round. The sound of a baby happily talking to angels. A happy baby laughing as he watches angels dance before him. I close my eyes and count to three. I open my eyes. Never will it be.
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 12:55 AM UTC
A Baby's Room
Proper pushing my luck holding my phone like a flair in the bath, Protected like rubber but the ducks on it back. I hear the echoes, confused as it sounds like a quack. Seems that it's true that they had the last laugh.
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
daffy duck
TEDDY PENDERGRAS joined HAROLD MELVIN AND THE BLUENOTES as a drummer and back up singer but his outing baritone as the lead singer as the lead on WAKE UP EVERYBODY and IF YOU DON"T KNOW ME BY NOW caused him to remain in that position before becoming a solo recording artist WHITNEY ELIZABETH HOUSTON started singing lead parts in church her mother CISSY HOUSTON was a back up singer with ELVIS PRESLEY WHITNEY as a solo performer would become known as the VOICE and would produce and star in a number of movies along with putting out chart topping hit after hit like THE GREATEST LOVE OF ALL and SAVING ALL MY LOVE FOR YOU TOM JONES a coal miner's son from wales had a very successful AMERICAN variety show with ******* being thrown on stage to wipe his brow as he sang WHAT"s NEW PUSSYCAT and IT"S NOT UNUSUALE ENGELBERT sang I HAD THE LADT WALTZ WITH YOU and one of my favorite singers out of BROOKLYN BARBARA STREISAND belted out of the park the lovely song EVERGREEN and DON"T RAIN ON MY PARADE well like DAFFY DUCK used to say back in the day THAT"S ALL FOLKS
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
MY MUSICIAL MEMORIES PART 3 BY VICTOR TRIPP
Your poetry is daffy; your mind Is gooey taffy. You rhyme Like Seuss on ****** – Your grammar makes disaster of your ludicrous expounding. Those rhymes are cheese, And couplets, please. You couldn’t find a foundling.
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Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
Dis
Devils and mercenaries Dislocated shoulders Second hand panic Static cling Visions broadening perception Decrepit linoleum houses Men in the front yard, ***** Crawling in search of a fix and some pants Viles of junk, baggies of powder An unexpected destiny of agony Forced to dress up to please a higher society They won’t let me go With all the information I know The despicable disciple’s pillars of animosity and distain toward the rebellious over flow Never a hunter always a prisoner The bounty is huge for this lone survivor Two lunatics in a rubber room One claims to be captain of a magic carpet The other believes his skin is on inside out Both sunburned and daffy Her armada of refusal of failure goes unmatched Even my resistance is unparalleled to hers Electric shocks, water torture, brands, beatings, lashings and floggings My beard is torn from my face We will not surrender our splendid fascinations of the galaxy for you provincial ideals of pain and suffering to teach the divine path to enlightenment How sadistic We both lay silent and prepared ****** and bruised Devising the slaughter of their brutal oppressive cult
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
Pagan’s Haven
O sappy daffy incongruous frog Waiting for a beauty queen to be kissed by to turn to a prince in your dream You want some lessons on art? You want some lessons on art? then come to me For ye it’s gonna be for free! Oh come to me I can teach you how to read Poetry in manners that are non-slurpy and slimy As your automatic long tongue I be a friend and a lover and a teacher For the manifesto of our Love We’ll read  as loud as we can with our combined reptilian heart Let’s shout until we silence Let’s shout until we can be heard as and by and for the silence of the spirit Without defining Gentleness to be assigned to any poetry Let’s trespass these fake borders of the image of our predefined Body in our   As boring as can be shells made of the phrase Only clever birds sing it as: “This has been done already” before Your shout would silence My Palpating heart Please do not misunderstand my Love word and traditionalize As mushrooms grow Under rotten Floors Of urban flats or lies Like La la la lies and pathetize Yes Pathetize my words Without understanding what they’d truly mean When words Combine to a phrase with the spirit Truth shouts but not the cynic Like a poisonous Venomic-Tonic Made of the scared sound of your blood which should have instead been sacred by the earnest of our lovership and Without any of your definitions of poetic You shout You shout like politics Which is meaningless For true ears A defined silence has no power to trespass Boundaries of conditioned aesthetics of your Learned poetry Let's dare to read love now As plain and clear and straight As can the truth of hearts be without the need of any gelatinous stickers or the chess board tattooed Along the skin softness of our sitting bones
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 9:07 AM UTC
Ribbon snake’s serenade to a frog hiding in a coconut shell
O sappy daffy incongruous frog Waiting for a beauty queen to be kissed by to turn to a prince in your dream You want some lessons on art? You want some lessons on art? then come to me For ye it’s gonna be for free! Oh come to me I can teach you how to read Poetry in manners that are non-slurpy and slimy As your automatic long tongue I be a friend and a lover and a teacher For the manifesto of our Love We’ll read  as loud as we can with our combined reptilian heart Let’s shout until we silence Let’s shout until we can be heard as and by and for the silence of the spirit Without defining Gentleness to be assigned to any poetry Let’s trespass these fake borders of the image of our predefined Body in our   As boring as can be shells made of the phrase Only clever birds sing it as: “This has been done already” before Your shout would silence My Palpating heart Please do not misunderstand my Love word and traditionalize As mushrooms grow Under rotten Floors Of urban flats or lies Like La la la lies and pathetize Yes Pathetize my words Without understanding what they’d truly mean When words Combine to a phrase with the spirit Truth shouts but not the cynic Like a poisonous Venomic-Tonic Made of the scared sound of your blood which should have instead been sacred by the earnest of our lovership and Without any of your definitions of poetic You shout You shout like politics Which is meaningless For true ears A defined silence has no power to trespass Boundaries of conditioned aesthetics of your Learned poetry Let's dare to read love now As plain and clear and straight As can the truth of hearts be without the need of any gelatinous stickers or the chess board tattooed Along the skin softness of our sitting bones
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78
Behind my eyes, you're all I see Golden orange, little tabby I scramble for the words to say But they all just seem to melt away You make me fly You get me high With lips and eyes that smile so Make it seem as if you glow Soft and sweet, like laffy taffy Cartoon cat you are so daffy Delicious kisses, artsy boy You've come to bring me so much joy My candy addiction You seem like fiction Burning nights away with you Wake to find the dreams were true ***
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Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
i do not have the words to match your rainbows
Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky The One Percent will play. Squirrely Shirley Hurly Burly In the full light of day. Hop them, bop them; You can’t stop them. They’re never going away. Crying, trying, always lying, They count on your ignorance. Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky Wham bam, thank you man. Daffy, laffy, slappy happy. What’s the hap? What’s the plan? Cooked books, buncha crooks. Loosie, goosey, where’s the noosey? Flakey, fakey, jump in the lakey. Take and take, oil of snake, How much of this can good people take? Scream and shout, let it all out Stick it, we’ll show up and picket You’ll try to trick it, we’ll buy you a ticket On a rail, feathered, or off to jail. Subliminal criminals, sentences too minimal We’ll feel best if you and the rest must Sell your houses and cars from behind bars.
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
HOPSCOTCH CHANT
What comes to mind when they say "Disney"? All the mysteries and Mickey in my epiphany Aladdin got stuck in the cave and found the lamp Huey, Dewey and Louie all are out in a camp When daffy is about to lose control for daisy Goofy woke up and walked like if its all hazy Pluto never knows it has a planet on his name Still it doesn't leave Mickey even being all lame When Cinderella lost her shoe and ran away Rapunzel meanwhile got her hair taken away Timon said "Hakuna Matata it means no worries" When Simba found Nala, Timon got insecurities Peter Pan came from Neverland and saw Wendy Seeing them fly together in childhood was trendy Hercules got Meg and showed off his muscles with a wink Hades made her pawn and Hercules found it was a fling Canine Superstar Bolt thought he was the real deal When camera stopped rolling,he began to squeal Pooh with honey and Christopher on journey Tigger bounces and Owl pretends to be an attorney A witch with Poisoned apple got her sleeping On seeing, the dwarfs couldn't stop weeping Alice got over her fears Dumbo got used to his ears All the Kids got mesmerized by the fun Its Disney, from which you dont wanna run
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Disney Inside
TEDDY PENDERGRAS joined HAROLD MELVIN AND THE BLUENOTES as a drummer and back up singer but his outstanding baritone voice as the lead on WAKE UP EVERYBODY and IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME BY NOW caused him to remain in that position before going on to become a solo recording artist WHITNEY ELIZABETH HOUSTON started singing lead parts in church her mother CISSY HOUSTON was a back up singer with ELVIS PRESLEY as a solo performer would become known as THE VOICE and would produce and star in a number of movies along with putting out chart topping hits like THE GREATEST LOVE OF ALL and SAVING ALL MY LOVE FOR YOU TOM JONES a coal miner's son from WALES had a very successful AMERICAN variety show with ******* being thrown on stage ,in later years he would be knighted as sir TOM at career peak TOM JONES sang WHAT"S NEW PUSSYCAT and IT"S NOT UNUSAL ENGELBERT sang AFTER THE LOVE IS GONE and I HAD THE LAST WALTZ WITH YOU and one of my favorite singers out of BROOKLYN BARBARA STREISAND belted clear even notes out of the park with the lovely song EVERGREEN and DON"T RAIN ON MY PARADE well like DAFFY DUCK used to say back in the day THAT"S ALL FOLKS
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
MY MUSICIAL MEMORIES PART 3 BY VICTOR TRIPP
Lilacs and lilies Daffy-down-dillies Sugar-sweet sap Softly dripping tap; Gardening in the sweet moonlight My silken roses red Jasmine curly white Watering garden beds Full of life.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
Garden
not sure how this goes... but it went. it went south and bent my knee and troubled glum the fuchsia ringlets of my armoured pollywogs.   my unkissed toad. my croaking need. it kept no secret sacred. we are long gone. and more long writhing in vinegar and damp spruce. we juice the dessicated fruits of our laborious orchards. and chant useless news at light speed to hasten darkness. to clip wings. we jeer at the summer of our lush coins. we spend time but gain none. and such is our abattoir. our fatted calf, gasping in the gears of our industry - choking on the floral arrangement of our daffy deal. all metaphors are five fingered. lesser hands are not god's. joy stumbles in the ruin of our naked ambition - as hell abides. we sum the minus signs and add zero. at odds.
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Love is the Love-Child of Hate
those plus one or two                                         wait monkey kicks god speaks Jesus Christ saw himself through the TV                                      smiling in the shade of a                                                 now cut said so, genetic disorder    - they will lie to you - (2) my dear your sight has lead me, helped me, still i continue                    teach me to speak, correctly again, consciousness is a said thing, inevitably inevitable; See what I mean? - // It's best we don't try anymore (3) I'd rather pick you up, drive you around we used to So Much fun laugh it off, laugh it off Sometimes at 4 in the morning, four a variety of flavors, a green thumb tack stuck to the wall said memories Given to you through                                                                                Ferris Bueller, Ferris bueller watch Ferris Bueller on your next day off daffy duck wrote this off
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
let's talk about those missing scissors