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"doughs" poems
i go through the throes of touching my toes of loving my foes of finding my knows of probing the woes of hitting the lows of raising the doughs of creating the shows of seeking the flows of screeching through rows of shedding the blows of believing in prose of sharing with those who celebrate glows does anyone suppose i’m through with the throes
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Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 8:39 AM UTC
the throes
far away enough from five pizza doughs per plastic bag or purple keys to a locked unit, your multicolored hair lights up a coffee shop on days where thunderstorms keep the paper from being delivered. "she's a sweetheart," the woman in the turquoise blouse says to her wife, noting nothing of stains on her apron or the colors of California strife. wildfires have lit your eyes for ages, parts per million of the cyclical, ecological division. anything hazel will fade into oblivion with enough self-doubt. when you've tied your last sweatshirt around your waist, I will hold you through the memories of the wildfires, passing out on the bathroom floor, losing her, the lies that your mother told you, and when you flew just far away enough from the ocean, but too close to the sun. it scorches with agonizing pain but i suppose we all have to stare into the sun once more after our eyes have been burnt badly enough to burst.
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
icarus as a romantic
Liberty's way out of our control Checking the pass for every person Why don't you sit down and listen? Call all the cops and surround my house Keys to your success are in my pocket Money up in a building robbed again What is the best weaponry in your country? Levels we reach, we never step back You shoot the unarmed so technically Amazing twists in the media, I hear I say what I hear, so don't judge me Can you believe my parents scolded me? Luckily I have the doughs, they key low I'm drive a lambo, they live in bamboo I found a charity fund, I raised a lot A lot to see if the people love and follow me I don't feel greedy, coz I feed the needy I see what's good, what's bad and evil So look at your face, hater I'll spit F out of the yard, you'll be hit by my guard
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
The Rich n Greedy (Celebs)
Bouncing, rebounding on the floor of my memory - the ball of my elder sister’s jackstones and the lead washer of my elder brother’s sipa travelling to and fro the tops and yoyos among the imaginary bread doughs of gathered dust from that childhood sprinkled with the *** of yesterday to bake make-believe rice puddings and rice cakes - they seem to be spoiled now in the food cupboards of computers and eventually interred in the graveyards of cellular phones In the cemetery of memories the ghost of poverty still haunts never, ever unescapable for every gulp of you warmly soothes the throats of scenarios of all dramas and movies in that nesting home now decrepit, debilitated: after the day’s toils: you helped me swallow the lump of aromatic rice - cooked by Mother - the old fragrant stock that she loaned from the vendor from Quezon not even a piece of dried fish accompanying nothing else, only you, my brewed coffee nice both as dip and soup.
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Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 10:26 PM UTC
Brewed Coffee III
Disgusted and dazed sick flustered triggered fuss in his brain big buzzard in range, big buzz in the range fist clutched this gun's just combusted in flames this must be a twisted **** in a rage coz girls spun whirl slupms 12 swirls on his **** disfigured lumps legs busted hands cuffed in a cage straight outta the gate, the gateway drug's gateway's shut for a minute system's corrupt if I build gates I still win doughs in this *****   the man's trust has escaped, but the **** runt ran flustered spazzed stunned and submitted "You clapped **** you had my freedom in your hands for a minute" the man's drunk plans flunked he's ****** up as it is He's too stupid to hear his music career's in the toilet your jam won't get you **** to eat if you jammed musturd in your plate. It's the fact that all the ******** runs stoked and it hides the alcohol's a tool kit that helps him open his eyes Rum's just how he sees the truth, the real life truth serum
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May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC
Drugs are Bad