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"drooling" poems
She waits. How beautifully she waits. How impossibly lovely she is with a thing so passive. With what weight she waits, making her bus or boyfriend (or whatever she waits for) seem like a first brunch with Christ. She waits regally, in perfect contrast to the drooling buffoon describing her.
0
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
She Waits
oh honey **** pen and ink **** star warrior pretty little manga girl twinkle wisp with kung fu throwing stars and triple steel samurai sword that tear through others made of pink taffy and cherry juice fizz blood moving like lightening a flying gladiator with dripping sweet rice and tapioca milk shake ******* oh you would taste so good to drink out of a swirling sherbet punch bowl with big blow job star goldfish and hungry pink ***** lips octopus drooling sit on your face suckers oh, fighter of one-legged midgets the best part after a fresh **** victory **** to go down on them their loli pop ***** butter ***** beautiful springing through the top of your skull cause you can't get enough oh wow happy hello kitty ***** plump plops viscous before the coup de grâce as she twirls their chewing gum gizzards with her little swizzle tongue goo ga licious before placing what's left of their hose like glistening entrails around her throat like a pearl necklace only to get strangled with it by double **** UFO boy solar ******* hero of the universe so hard she spurts pineapple juice and *** donuts out of pucker pie **** **** banged cross eyed like little girl manga never felt so good addicted to cruel whipped with a hella wet noodle yes no yes no yes no yes pleazzz her big blue marble glass eyes binocular kaleidoscopes spring out on the floor and roll around turning into all seeing anti-gravity magnetized silver pin stripped spaceships peopled by evil omni ****** **** ***** screaming through eternity in search of cosmic tushi sushi ogling wiggling ballerina butts bubble gum for the eyeballs
0
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
**** MANGA POETRY
oh honey **** pen and ink **** star warrior pretty little manga girl twinkle wisp with kung fu throwing stars and triple steel samurai sword that tear through others made of pink taffy and cherry juice fizz blood moving like lightening a flying gladiator with dripping sweet rice and tapioca milk shake ******* oh you would taste so good to drink out of a swirling sherbet punch bowl with big blow job star goldfish and hungry pink ***** lips octopus drooling sit on your face suckers oh, fighter of one-legged midgets the best part after a fresh **** victory **** to go down on them their loli pop ***** butter ***** beautiful springing through the top of your skull cause you can't get enough oh wow happy hello kitty ***** plump plops viscous before the coup de grâce as she twirls their chewing gum gizzards with her little swizzle tongue goo ga licious before placing what's left of their hose like glistening entrails around her throat like a pearl necklace only to get strangled with it by double **** UFO boy solar ******* hero of the universe so hard she spurts pineapple juice and *** donuts out of pucker pie **** **** banged cross eyed like little girl manga never felt so good addicted to cruel whipped with a hella wet noodle yes no yes no yes no yes pleazzz her big blue marble glass eyes binocular kaleidoscopes spring out on the floor and roll around turning into all seeing anti-gravity magnetized silver pin stripped spaceships peopled by evil omni ****** **** ***** screaming through eternity in search of cosmic tushi sushi ogling wiggling ballerina butts bubble gum for the eyeballs
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65
A grey room with soft walls is waiting down the road. Purple pills and quiet voices will ease my heavy load. They'll place electrodes on my head to shock away the pain. Then I'll sit drooling as I stare at the morning rain. Maybe a friend will visit and stare with wide unblinking eyes. They'll speak cautiously and try to fill me with empty lies. Even with my drug addled mind will see through their mask. There are questions visible on their tongue they refuse to ask. The stern nurses in their funny hats take us out in the sun. The sudden warmth and bright light jolt us like a firing gun. We must stay in line and only speak when we're spoken to. When one is barely conscious that's an easy thing to do. I'm back in my locked room starting to fade off to sleep. I wonder if God can hear my prayers under layers so deep Please come and save your creation from this destiny. Sprinkle your magical dust and set this tormented soul free.
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Destiny
What I fear isn’t hairy eight legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night What I fear isn’t the whole “Something’s gonna come out of the dark and eat me,” while I’m trying to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Nor even when my father angrily yells at me Because in all honesty he starts regurgitating spit from his mouth making it so hard to take him seriously when he’s drooling. What I’m afraid of is… I’m afraid of tomorrow… You see, Once upon a time On a Saturday Night I was so excited to finally finish writing my second chapter of my fan fiction Talking to a few friends. And relaxing from my stressful day of a Saturday. Then suddenly a wild message about financial aid appears, Now, This isn’t where my fears start coming to life This isn’t even where my thoughts were being provoked. This was just a simple conversation about financial aid information. You see,| My friend knows little about financial aid and my friend asked about the information I know. I thought, “Well I have limited knowledge on this…I’ll give my friend my best answers and hope it turns out alright.” Well, Things didn’t turn out the way I had imagined it. You see, This private conversation evolved into a group chat And even the financial aid information conversation evolved into, “How are you going to pay for your college expenses?” You see, I don’t fear of creatures with eight legs, I don’t fear of monsters in the darkness I don’t even fear of my father’s angry tone! I fear what tomorrow’s going to be I fear that my future will only just be a dream. It’s so hard to be focusing on where I’m going to be at next year when this year looks like the saddest thing on Earth. It’s so hard to concentrate on tomorrow when today looks like a horrible nightmare. Today, I’m stressed I’m not stressed about my grades I know I work harder than the average student. I’m not stressed about the guy I might like Because right now, A boyfriend is not what I be needing. I’m stressed that I may not get a job I’m stressed that my dad may lose his I’m stressed that my mom can’t find another I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my ACT Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to afford my SAT Subject Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my college apps And I’m stressed that I can’t get fee waver Because according to the government my parents make too much for me to have one When in reality My family barely survives on a paycheck. It’s getting harder and harder to survive on that paycheck Because presently speaking It’s getting harder and harder to pay to keep on living. And because I don’t have a job yet, My parents are still forced to pay for me to keep on living. I’m stressed that I’m not going to have a tomorrow I’m stressed that I’m not going to go to a college to pay college expenses for I’m stressed that this fear is going to keep controlling my life! But… I can’t let that happen… I can’t let this fear run my life. ‘Cause sooner or later its going to run it down tot eh ground and I won’t be able to recover from that I can’t let this fear consume me, Because I’ll never find a way out. I fear something… I don’t fear eight hairy legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night, I don’t fear monsters eating me alive while I’m trying to get something to drink. Nor do I fear my dad yelling at me. I fear of tomorrow. I can’t focus on where I’m going to be at next year when today is all foggy with no sign of light.
0
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 4:29 AM UTC
I fear.
What I fear isn’t hairy eight legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night What I fear isn’t the whole “Something’s gonna come out of the dark and eat me,” while I’m trying to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Nor even when my father angrily yells at me Because in all honesty he starts regurgitating spit from his mouth making it so hard to take him seriously when he’s drooling. What I’m afraid of is… I’m afraid of tomorrow… You see, Once upon a time On a Saturday Night I was so excited to finally finish writing my second chapter of my fan fiction Talking to a few friends. And relaxing from my stressful day of a Saturday. Then suddenly a wild message about financial aid appears, Now, This isn’t where my fears start coming to life This isn’t even where my thoughts were being provoked. This was just a simple conversation about financial aid information. You see,| My friend knows little about financial aid and my friend asked about the information I know. I thought, “Well I have limited knowledge on this…I’ll give my friend my best answers and hope it turns out alright.” Well, Things didn’t turn out the way I had imagined it. You see, This private conversation evolved into a group chat And even the financial aid information conversation evolved into, “How are you going to pay for your college expenses?” You see, I don’t fear of creatures with eight legs, I don’t fear of monsters in the darkness I don’t even fear of my father’s angry tone! I fear what tomorrow’s going to be I fear that my future will only just be a dream. It’s so hard to be focusing on where I’m going to be at next year when this year looks like the saddest thing on Earth. It’s so hard to concentrate on tomorrow when today looks like a horrible nightmare. Today, I’m stressed I’m not stressed about my grades I know I work harder than the average student. I’m not stressed about the guy I might like Because right now, A boyfriend is not what I be needing. I’m stressed that I may not get a job I’m stressed that my dad may lose his I’m stressed that my mom can’t find another I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my ACT Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to afford my SAT Subject Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my college apps And I’m stressed that I can’t get fee waver Because according to the government my parents make too much for me to have one When in reality My family barely survives on a paycheck. It’s getting harder and harder to survive on that paycheck Because presently speaking It’s getting harder and harder to pay to keep on living. And because I don’t have a job yet, My parents are still forced to pay for me to keep on living. I’m stressed that I’m not going to have a tomorrow I’m stressed that I’m not going to go to a college to pay college expenses for I’m stressed that this fear is going to keep controlling my life! But… I can’t let that happen… I can’t let this fear run my life. ‘Cause sooner or later its going to run it down tot eh ground and I won’t be able to recover from that I can’t let this fear consume me, Because I’ll never find a way out. I fear something… I don’t fear eight hairy legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night, I don’t fear monsters eating me alive while I’m trying to get something to drink. Nor do I fear my dad yelling at me. I fear of tomorrow. I can’t focus on where I’m going to be at next year when today is all foggy with no sign of light.
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72
my darkest poems bloodletting streams are a kind of ****** fetishy cognitive inventory malformed denizens of the subconscious a well of torments soup of Salmonella the souls gut its cauldron yet not with out lurid enticements and voluptuous supplicants gorgeous like an eight legged woman with beautiful feet drooling **** lips drunk on sacrificial rituals of blood black tongued kisses and hideous contorted pleasures ******** once exquisite archetypes gods and goddesses are now putrefied cellar dwellers moaning in nature bed crypts of rock, stone and engraved sigils because honest pure desires became fragmentary and are now gimping amputees by legions of primal disappointment while faces blare in the world like super bright L.E.D.s shinning paths to others our deep self remains patinaed in tears a black box pox with a lock the skeleton key lost in arcane seas out of utter disgust for those dark crawlers that live within us revealing them selves as anxieties, depressions suicides and myriad quiet despairs we appear undaunted to others and they to us humanity muffled ticks and splintered sticks my poems let my demons out yoo who its me my name is spray snake z with my hooks and cries and dark blood skies in the misty night i dragged out their earthen coffins legends of the despicable resurrected them fed and loved those darklings had every conceivable union with them their healing, my own ive sexualized them and found love albeit twisted to be adored in a hidden embrace i bestow upon you a poetic fantasy while obsession takes hold bind it not nor let it bind you*
0
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
Demons Embrace
my darkest poems bloodletting streams are a kind of ****** fetishy cognitive inventory malformed denizens of the subconscious a well of torments soup of Salmonella the souls gut its cauldron yet not with out lurid enticements and voluptuous supplicants gorgeous like an eight legged woman with beautiful feet drooling **** lips drunk on sacrificial rituals of blood black tongued kisses and hideous contorted pleasures ******** once exquisite archetypes gods and goddesses are now putrefied cellar dwellers moaning in nature bed crypts of rock, stone and engraved sigils because honest pure desires became fragmentary and are now gimping amputees by legions of primal disappointment while faces blare in the world like super bright L.E.D.s shinning paths to others our deep self remains patinaed in tears a black box pox with a lock the skeleton key lost in arcane seas out of utter disgust for those dark crawlers that live within us revealing them selves as anxieties, depressions suicides and myriad quiet despairs we appear undaunted to others and they to us humanity muffled ticks and splintered sticks my poems let my demons out yoo who its me my name is spray snake z with my hooks and cries and dark blood skies in the misty night i dragged out their earthen coffins legends of the despicable resurrected them fed and loved those darklings had every conceivable union with them their healing, my own ive sexualized them and found love albeit twisted to be adored in a hidden embrace i bestow upon you a poetic fantasy while obsession takes hold bind it not nor let it bind you*
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75
He was large as frogs go Fist-sized happy rotund dweller of backyard pond Garter snake large, too large with his ominous yellow stripes and jaws to take a larger than average mouthful Choked by abdomen's girth Legs drooling from his glut Before the victim's even hit his gut's digestive juices Kid with hockey stick makes him puck for his sin Frog makes  desperate slim swim for rocks Where he lies in recovery from shock and teeth marks on his belly Underdog gets defense from phone call-- Eve 150 miles away intercedes Frog gets mercy of a transport to another backwoods pond-- to find his life forgetting trauma Suns himself and swims Eats the bugs and ***** the froglettes of another day
0
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
Underdog Frog
Cuckqueen in a kink clutch breaking a twisted angel on the rack of onward Christian solders in ecstatic flagellations for ***** saliva  cliterature with a mouth black window widows bite in a white lie light   of cruel dark night while jazz **** layonaise spatters where its soft and hurts good   and fossil **** ******* drive down the armageddon highway in a bright burn with ***** feet on clean sheets and drooling tongues lickalotapuss
0
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
Lickalotapuss...Anime
i come to you half mad with desire like slithers tongue i wish to have painfully stitched to your silky **** an act of desires supplication my *** turned to poison deprivations effulgent obsidian flower salivating your every smile fleshy bells ringing warping tintinnabulations i am a starved incubus drooling at your knees behind me a frothy junket of misdeeds for loves sake your feet the scent of lavender and salt their shape evoking numberless poems and begging adorations your belly a tender cauldron undulating tummy ***** dancer sacred ********** temple of worship the site of your rounded bottom naked red mouth calling my sacred liturgy your ***** velvet tulips for a tremulous kiss I seed you a thousand times a raging bludgeon storming wounded gates Palisades drenched and florid fruit and milk **** until jaws lock and spire drops turning me to midnight cadaver ***** black hollows a dark eyelid, blink-less dead **** face down a slumped snake then soft dew and cool ales clear thickened muds saturation lighten heat and peel the warm palate with agile caress tender haunches wide and spiced milk and butter thighs her hair in mine rushing river life again i animate an embryo id dressed in fire all vices and virtues blood and sky
0
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 1:23 PM UTC
*** DEATH AND RESURRECTION
U gat me thinking all ***** U gat my mind all flirty.. Or is it filthy..Hehhe Mehn.. U gat me saying.. Yes papi Wind on me baby The way u move ur spine is alarming U gat me blood all hot.. I'm screaming Don't let go baby Bring that body my way U knw u ain't goin no where Once I have got my way U know u wld want to stay Can't get u off my brain Thought of u flooding my viens Drooling over u... I gat to have u **** u gat me thinking ***** U make me want to be so naughty Bring ur body this way I have got plans.. That wld make u scream hey!! O my.. Naughty naughty U really gat me all hot n sweaty I ain't leaving here alone Come on..i knw u want more Yes u are my Naughty lil secret The one I cant regret The one that i hv bn looking for The one that always has me wanting more My naughty naughty..
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
My naughty naughty
sister I have this glass in my hand ruminating glass glass without sparkle I found it under the park bench where I lay drooling on the bricks sister this glass reminds me of you this glass reminds me of earth blood the shade where sand melted love sister I cut so smooth so correct is this blood I spill for you
0
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Desmond Diamond Sparkle Boy
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
0
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
IN A TAUT BLACK DRESS
in a taut black dress you brush by me   you are dark summer fruit simmering hot a sopping estuary   i gather you into me   you cascade like an undulating cat giggles like trembling gelatin cherry kiss lips   agile muscle shifting   pleating like soft furs against my thunderous chest your tremulous tongue rupturing like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven   i inhale your lavender breath   your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping i eat your soul and paradise ******** licking honey rainbows filling my mouth a thousand times   and a thousand more its never enough when some one has your heart suffocate me in your drooling mouth your body is my aviary and hot house of man eating plants i run to your teeth beautiful cleavers gleaming shivering with excitement   from your dragging bites my blood languishing at your feet have no regard for me eat my love   i live to be swallowed by you   i hold you through the night all dire raptures dark in mystic paradise   tangled in your hair may mourning never find us torrid scorched from flames infernal black candles uncrossing pasts devils **** your adoring toy   kisses never ceasing hot weather nostrils steaming your flexed body writhes a royal contortion   your heart cleaving so that i may like a sun   consume your darkest edges bitter chocolate so sweet   to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy my heart aches like a siren of echoes   calling to you   shaking your gates down   you are a titanic gravity   and i'm forever tumbling   like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night it is a steep decent into heavens arms as i crumble all smashing diamonds and hissing flames into open wounds weeping glitter your chin jutting throat stretched while pulling the roots of your hair exposing arteries pulsing stuffing myself on your marrow you plume like a volcanic moon showering me with spooling stars and butter **** kisses ill turn you into my glistening little ***** all swollen tears for more   rituals of adoration kisses like monsoon rains i look up at your supple form your haunches my temple   worshiping you smothered in heavens jaws you cascading pantie-less   in a taut black dress
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79
Sickly might, cravens and craving demon drooling bite. That fleshly flaunt of fool and privilege, he burned to smoldering. Lapped his blood from crowned jewel and corroded golden spires. The lost cadaver, pride driven manicured demon of self driven greed and godly hunger. Such as fiendish that ****** the sulfured serpent, tis a sickened beast in dread black suit, raffled in silken red tie it's but the psychopath's blood smeared human hide. Crave the flesh, tear and splatter the soul from within, fiends of fantastically practiced to perfect parallel smiles. They'll slip your soul from the bars of your throat, reap every inch of the body's hold. Steal friendships to lips, lives to hips, slurp the killing, seize the blind weeping cold. You've got nothing not to be swept and stole. Soulless has a studded luster, but the ****** socio bleeds liquid sins, bears fangs plastic wrapped in blades, human game is the psychopath's wet dream.
0
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:27 AM UTC
Psychopath Devine
No one looks No one cares At the poems I write each day All I ask Is for a word Your thoughts on what I say I slave away Pen in hand Trying to express The way I feel About some things Not trying to impress I write and write I try my best To put out a masterpiece But time after time Rhyme after rhyme The dream is not yet complete To look at some Who get everything People drooling over their roughs The comments pile up But my poems remain Empty and untouched Although I write For no one else It still would be very nice For people to Appreciate The emotion in what I write The worst part is I'll never know If I was ever any good Because people could Never take the time To give my work a look No one looks No one cares At the poems I write each day All I ask Is for a word Your thoughts on what I say
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
The Unappreciated Poet
Her naughty secrets. She never, keeps them private. The lust, the thirst, the desperate urge to ride it. Her wetness, drooling down her leg. She smiles. Now, her legs, divided. Such a beautiful sight, provided. She wants it - so badly; her body can’t hide it. I want it. So badly. I lick my lips, as I, slide inside it. Her wet ***** so warm, her moans, as I pump, she grinds it. Three fingers, make her *** And when I use my tongue, the eruption inside, coincides, between her thighs. Now her stockings have a run.
0
Apr 11, 2022
Apr 11, 2022 at 5:53 PM UTC
Night Rider
*she said being a feminist i have forsaken the temples of normalcy for dark gratifications and base seduction and discovered that those who know the pleasures of objectification and frenzied ****** lucidity with strangers are wiser then the children of  sweetness and light as marriage betrays the need to satisfy secret dark labyrinths desire and in its place repeats ad nauseum blunt fortitudes in dim sunless rooms for fear of the transgressive satans *** nail is conventions essential creed exhaustions hand maid rendered imagine-less bereft of the new until a mere stand in for true desire is left like a starved ghost on a dead moon a desiccated morsel left for a hungry mouse is romantic marriage a poetic conception by love starved victorian imbeciles vanquished in increments by petty spats of blood and thunder who know not the joys of the whips blood toothed kisses purgation's brutal sensuality and a creel of ramming butter **** gang bangs in secret fetish gardens of cries and coos that leave the *** wilted and the soul lite like a butterfly in heaven slave girl asks as hips sway to sacred dionysian storms in the smoldering pangs of the heart as backs writhe and arch flex and sweat rhapsodic and viscera panic with desire are not such delicious degradations pleasures ravage despicable cause for an ecstatic celebration kindling fiery vapors incense en-flamed dragons blood for drooling kisses that talk in tongues in a language that everyone understands infinitly preferred over  the rolling eyes of disapproval in the tepid marriage bed*
0
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
Slave Girl Rhapsody
*she said being a feminist i have forsaken the temples of normalcy for dark gratifications and base seduction and discovered that those who know the pleasures of objectification and frenzied ****** lucidity with strangers are wiser then the children of  sweetness and light as marriage betrays the need to satisfy secret dark labyrinths desire and in its place repeats ad nauseum blunt fortitudes in dim sunless rooms for fear of the transgressive satans *** nail is conventions essential creed exhaustions hand maid rendered imagine-less bereft of the new until a mere stand in for true desire is left like a starved ghost on a dead moon a desiccated morsel left for a hungry mouse is romantic marriage a poetic conception by love starved victorian imbeciles vanquished in increments by petty spats of blood and thunder who know not the joys of the whips blood toothed kisses purgation's brutal sensuality and a creel of ramming butter **** gang bangs in secret fetish gardens of cries and coos that leave the *** wilted and the soul lite like a butterfly in heaven slave girl asks as hips sway to sacred dionysian storms in the smoldering pangs of the heart as backs writhe and arch flex and sweat rhapsodic and viscera panic with desire are not such delicious degradations pleasures ravage despicable cause for an ecstatic celebration kindling fiery vapors incense en-flamed dragons blood for drooling kisses that talk in tongues in a language that everyone understands infinitly preferred over  the rolling eyes of disapproval in the tepid marriage bed*
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59
I fathom fatherhood His invincible feats When that magnanimous shadow danced Bowing his head lowly And my cryptic looks Staring that pugnacious shadow To what he's been unearthing for A little later in the twilight of dusk My drooling curiosity burnt in persistence As I observed a twinkling toddler Following the lead of his father With merry- go rounds and exciting swings As docile as a lamb He embraced his daddy Cause that was his world's best swing And then blew his index finger in air Spinning around everywhere The father introduced the whole world Without shutting him up The next half hour passed away And there temple bells rang And wind blew Everything became grave A reverberation echoed Together with temple bells Rung the devotional clap Of a son And his father... Worshipping.. Never ever can I fathom The unconditional fatherly love..
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
I fathom fatherhood..
One badass chick, she strutted like a peacock all the way down the block. Men craned their necks just to catch a glimpse of her, flicking her cigarette, shaking her wares. She walked right on by me & winked, had a little smirk on her precious puckered-lips. Geez, what a head of hair. And though it made me sick, I kind of giggled to check out her aftermath. Guys just stood there in awe, dumbfounded, bug-eyed & I counted no less than six hanging-tongues drooling.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Six Hanging Tongues (One Badass Chick)
her happiness is everything her pathos; be kind with cruelty blood and tears, a royal jelly merciless kisses like blazing pyres she cries through a night prayer my push pin princess; a crimson petal nerves edge; jutting ******* seeking cleavers kiss to serve to serve to serve smiling for a relish of wasps she knows she is loved a loved red faced surprise **** mouth, red chirping sparrow wax teeth melting succubus, **** flower gratefully crushed under foot toes like musical notes little pearl ruins   grave stones whipped cream butter cookie in chains stipule corridor **** plume serrations gush, a singing Dahlia ripped rose, thorned and curt plush flames her skull a throat her liturgy weeping, licking gods bulging colossus wakes her inside giving her religion sacrificed on a crucifix of ***** **** of heaven a burning church possessed drooling supplications lustrous saliva web drapes trembling downward thighs a glutinous chandelier melts like silk around ankles crystal silt on scorched heels to serve to serve to serve her happiness is everything her pathos; be kind with cruelty
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 11:47 AM UTC
How to Treat Your Slave
Camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains was the greatest day of my life It was my birthday I brought a suitcase and my favorite dame and hiked 2 miles UP^^^^^^^^ laughing all the way UP ^^^^^in the Ozarks Medics were shooting steroids in my **** BUT, never been more in love with a man who injects grief in my veins Dwelling in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains sensed his vibe Yes, Jesus I feel you here held en el Rio Grande con mis mejor amigos drooling in the hot springs Taos has called our names ********* the rocky sand that is below me I find a coin from New Zealand, in turn, losing my evil eye earring an offering to spirit's stream a pair of desert lizards we desire to get frisky and be alone we shine silver glitter under a moonlit glow witches cackle and curanderos hide behind coyote cries and cacti looking to each other with faces expressing, "What should do we do?" I guess allow them to do their thing humans need ceremonies too
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Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
Mountain Memories
Babies in the microwave Babies in the oven Babies in a shallow grave Babies need your lovin' Babies smoking cigarettes Babies cursing with tourette's Babies in the garbage can Babies on the ceiling fan Babies reading Dostoevsky Babies cruising on a jet ski Babies naked on the beach Babies fuzzy like a peach Babies crying cuz you hurt them Babies take it cuz they must Babies lying cuz you hurt them Babies I will never trust Babies all of us once were Babies drooling on the fur Babies in the soup we stir Babies life is all a blur.
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Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
Babies
To have them shipped across the sea, sitting like ornamental drops tinsel strung around your eyes pocketed the tree walking down sunset avenue reeking of bamboo stalks and water chestnuts looking for a place to submerge your treasure with a rattling breath do you deflate And the Oak trunk that grows unimpeded hanging her branches caressing the Spaniard shingles the clay missionary tabs touching the stucco with a golden blade of sunlight cutting a thousand little strips to hang about the face moving a thousand miles a second stopped in place with the quiet repose of a yoga state humming and shimmering yet let me be sweet oak tree. And I wander through the canyon boulevard between the rocky cliffs and the endless riff of surf-rock echoed off skate parks and riding the PC highway hair bedraggled and snaked into next week lingering bonfire on the cotton shirt plant for plant *** for tat seed to breed Now dance, you and me. Insinuation drooling salivary tongue full bacon pigging out on burgers getting red-eyes from vegans smoking plants murderers We squirt, relish on the act of dying all things dying choking life second by second dying to live. Staring at neon fins lining the gravel lot Koi flickering beneath the celestial night Suspended pondwater pondering In surfce tension the deep mysteries of life Tracing the snake through the winding streams we watch atop the rooftop Gaia Taking in the burgeoning Ocean of incandescent tangerine and Peyote-light Cacti hidden somewhere between the quiet slumber of mindless streets aligned by formless hands Drinking the mescaline air Twisting the nightly moments as locks of hair I curled them, slipping, within my fingertips tracing the long winding road of Tao along her shoulders Enraptured by her sensual bliss When I finally drifted along the clouded memories of divine rumbling eyes she disappeared into the sky blinking along the Jet turbines Never meant to be mine for more than a night
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
Nightly, Part 1
To have them shipped across the sea, sitting like ornamental drops tinsel strung around your eyes pocketed the tree walking down sunset avenue reeking of bamboo stalks and water chestnuts looking for a place to submerge your treasure with a rattling breath do you deflate And the Oak trunk that grows unimpeded hanging her branches caressing the Spaniard shingles the clay missionary tabs touching the stucco with a golden blade of sunlight cutting a thousand little strips to hang about the face moving a thousand miles a second stopped in place with the quiet repose of a yoga state humming and shimmering yet let me be sweet oak tree. And I wander through the canyon boulevard between the rocky cliffs and the endless riff of surf-rock echoed off skate parks and riding the PC highway hair bedraggled and snaked into next week lingering bonfire on the cotton shirt plant for plant *** for tat seed to breed Now dance, you and me. Insinuation drooling salivary tongue full bacon pigging out on burgers getting red-eyes from vegans smoking plants murderers We squirt, relish on the act of dying all things dying choking life second by second dying to live. Staring at neon fins lining the gravel lot Koi flickering beneath the celestial night Suspended pondwater pondering In surfce tension the deep mysteries of life Tracing the snake through the winding streams we watch atop the rooftop Gaia Taking in the burgeoning Ocean of incandescent tangerine and Peyote-light Cacti hidden somewhere between the quiet slumber of mindless streets aligned by formless hands Drinking the mescaline air Twisting the nightly moments as locks of hair I curled them, slipping, within my fingertips tracing the long winding road of Tao along her shoulders Enraptured by her sensual bliss When I finally drifted along the clouded memories of divine rumbling eyes she disappeared into the sky blinking along the Jet turbines Never meant to be mine for more than a night
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72
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember. I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage. Then the almost unnameable lust returns. Even then I have nothing against life. I know well the grass blades you mention, the furniture you have placed under the sun. But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply declared myself, have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his craft, his magic. In this way, heavy and thoughtful, warmer than oil or water, I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole. I did not think of my body at needle point. Even the cornea and the leftover ***** were gone. Suicides have already betrayed the body. Still-born, they don't always die, but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet that even children would look on and smile. To ****** all that life under your tongue!- that, all by itself, becomes a passion. Death's a sad bone; bruised, you'd say, and yet she waits for me, year after year, to so delicately undo an old wound, to empty my breath from its bad prison. Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet, raging at the fruit a pumped-up moon, leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss, leaving the page of the book carelessly open, something unsaid, the phone off the hook and the love whatever it was, an infection.
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5.1k
Wanting to Die
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 5:11 PM UTC
#1299 : a new & old love poem: I am the summer-man!
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
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a future promise a hard on like bundled gym socks in stuffed blue jeans a future threat a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete she remembered fondly being beaten drum chatter and seized like slow roasted fall off the bone pulled pork ****** raggedy Ann catapulted beyond Euboean heavens ravaging scrotums Gordian ****** with her wild fiendish mouth drinking a river of haloed golden showers spit and **** in a runaway hot house of glistening pink buttery spires engorging her macerated orifices half eaten radish chocking on hordes of big do do ***** a ****** face; cross eyed Babylon abalone bashed Ashly mashed begging for a face full of swinging ***** like caped chandeliers trotting faint giggles in a constellation of ruptured arteries and thick sparked **** on her knees milk glitter faced scared with happiness she counted one smiling bruise at a time her badge of calamities black and blue silhouettes grinning invitations like party favors without a crease of shame her skin rapturous spackled patchworks bled like torrential fountains summer tide while every body had  fizzy red ice phlebotomies and steamed through her drooling tumble pie lust ***** totem house of winding labyrinths honey pumped transfusion flush on blush opera of tangled limbs red pulse wedding flowers slick ***** palace blood tongued orchard caressing knotted mooned **** spill
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
**** Spill