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"drools" poems
Something inspires the only cow of late To make no more of a wall than an open gate, And think no more of wall-builders than fools. Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit, She scorns a pasture withering to the root. She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten. The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten. She leaves them bitten when she has to fly. She bellows on a knoll against the sky. Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry.
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4.6k
The Cow In Apple Time
I’ve stripped in front of mirrors Poles on the side Legs loose Insanity. I’ve closed eyes to kiss Opened my mouth to twirl with tongues. Nose against his I’ve smelt his scent, took it to have. Before bottom lips were felt, I’ve laid against chests Heartbeats whispered in ears . Desperate for changes to cease the moment. These lips have bled, They have laid lives; One in caskets The other living to tell the tale . My canvas rescued in fairytales. He dug in these cherry lips Threw uncaptured souls on my covers. I’ve spread wide in these sheets Dripped with Pit-bull drools These hands have raised Have nurtured Have done hand jobs. Black roses I’ve blown for. In my high I’ve read minds I’ve been Queen Dressed in feathers Crowned with featherless pigeons. 1,2,3. I slipped out of my fantasy To be laid yet again on this bed. Another one night stand to hold on to. Only these walls will live to tell the tale Of my devoured bottom lips.
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Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
These Lips
I am the Pumpkin Pie I rule.... Woofer drools with envy Over the Pumpkin Pie Oh, yeah he tries so hard To Usurp me But I grab that dude by his ear And drag his *** about Cause that Fool is no Pumpkin Pie I rule the Roost. Just a few words by Pumpkin Pie The most supreme dog of the Land
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
Pumpkin Pie
We scream for ice-cream, crunchy cones crisp, cream and sauce drips down your wrists, those sweet calories latching to your hips, but, 'who cares?' you state, licking your lips, we scream for ice-cream, drip, drippy, d r i p s. _________ Drools: http://beautyineverything.com/5065478350
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Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 5:58 AM UTC
We scream
he asked me why I'd absorb his ardent spirits and chain want of soul he knows why I demand total control ...to convey my lust for pleasurable pain this ache in thighs denies an uttered sigh as I cry inside with lust strutting before him in nylon and pumps he jumps through hoops, leashed; he begs and flex, hungry for what is next while I slap his hardened **** tick tock its almost time unwind and rock to tease and please I think not; as heat of breath taunts each slap of **** his moans go unclocked ...as he loses control Mistress, please he begs and moan how long? watching hardness grow long, strong in fits of hunger he whispers and drools, Mistress!!!!! ...your sweet ambrosia I know eager beggary to be unleashed ready to pounce unload every ounce but, I won't as I blindfold and ring his **** fore, his time is still on the clock...tick tock I smile, while he gropes in the dark...leashed...now bark! tell me! are you hard enough? ...I tease and taunt him some more **** now hard as a rock...lash of whip...whack ...in your corner...I'll be back...after Jack laps wet ******
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:39 AM UTC
Dominant Stroll
I love to touch her ***** and feel her thick swollen lips slip between my fingers. Tips, drip, with her wetness, thick drools drip, from her plump peach lips, ripe with desire. Tracing the edge of her warmth, feeling the weight of them on my fingers - the sensation, grounds me into the moment. Present I am, hard as a rock, my **** aches for her warmth, wrapped round, like a blanket of pleasure. Her **** lit with my spit, glistening in the light, my tongue and the tip unit - sending shockwaves through her hips, my tongue she rides - like tides, I wave my wet tip, around her little **** tiny circles electrify it. I’m mesmerized by the heat of the moment, its tantalizing.
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Jan 2, 2025
Jan 2, 2025 at 4:56 PM UTC
Trance
I sit on a droopy windowsill and gaze out at the stars above me in the stately sky of coal. I let the smoke fill me, pollute my corrupted lungs, ‘til it plugs me, completely consumes my sticky soul, and midnight sorrow blanket hugs the heart in my hole. I sit and I consider the sky with its million-and-one jewels that adorn the vast carpet of night and its one, lone cloud that slowly drools fat, drippy drops of deep fed'ral blues. The ashy, burnt taste is still in my throat; it lingers- a dull, cloying candy cane. The muted flavour chokes and jabs and pecks persistently, in the back of my brain and leaves a steel blue/gray trailing stain. Vague memories of fourth-grade English lessons take me with a deep sigh to forgotten thoughts of Roger McGough and unrequited love- dazed recollections of school poetry taught in obscure slate-blue classrooms, littered with blots. It seems feeling unreturned affection isn't quite as great as I’d thought after all. I must've been wrong, all those hazed years ago, when I yearned to feel unrequited love’s fall, convinced it would be a wondrous, dazzling ball Instead, I'm just ******* in the pale-ing sky that seems to be growing into lighter hues- the navy’s turned to electric, to powder, matching the sapphire in my soul of glue. I'm suppose I'm feeling somewhat, slightly blue. .
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
Blue.
i'm sorry but im going to devour you like toast with butter and jam let go to me lose your self in the exaltation of suffering albeit a difficult pleasure feel me ruin you with every strike and stroke blister tear and pierce a quandary of liberation bleeding take more then whats dished ill turn you into a gushing river of squeals and filthy verse i'm in love with your **** colored almost purple like a wild mouthed poem make it kiss me let it eat my face its more beautiful then an Hawaiian sunset more tender then a baby lamb your sweet lipped ***** a buttery sticky bun its drools liquid diamonds i'm sorry i hit your **** so hard but they bounced and bounced and it drove me near mad so gorgeous bruised and bleeding casaba torrents all hot stings and sweet you stand glorious between beauty and annihilation your mouth swollen from being slapped so hard nose bleed and mucous your eyes enormous wombs like fingers touching me oh baby im sorry your tears imploring pleading and drunk on hair pulling frenzies curse my brutish rampage of *** gone mad turning your body into clouds and red splash ribbons don't be sorry she said with pursed lips your rabid hunger my own i am an abyss of dark desires a savage wraith i want to kiss you like a lecher all ******* and cherries with legs squandered wide a Halloween grotesque with a ponytail are you going to eat me like a communion wafer okay if it will save you am i not a saint of lust "There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends" john15:13 so have your fun at my expense make me your house of horrors greased for the scalding of your whip ill be good please do your worst and ill show you my best promise me pretty please kisses and cries rainbows and ash blistering ecstatic
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:56 PM UTC
I'M SORRY
i'm sorry but im going to devour you like toast with butter and jam let go to me lose your self in the exaltation of suffering albeit a difficult pleasure feel me ruin you with every strike and stroke blister tear and pierce a quandary of liberation bleeding take more then whats dished ill turn you into a gushing river of squeals and filthy verse i'm in love with your **** colored almost purple like a wild mouthed poem make it kiss me let it eat my face its more beautiful then an Hawaiian sunset more tender then a baby lamb your sweet lipped ***** a buttery sticky bun its drools liquid diamonds i'm sorry i hit your **** so hard but they bounced and bounced and it drove me near mad so gorgeous bruised and bleeding casaba torrents all hot stings and sweet you stand glorious between beauty and annihilation your mouth swollen from being slapped so hard nose bleed and mucous your eyes enormous wombs like fingers touching me oh baby im sorry your tears imploring pleading and drunk on hair pulling frenzies curse my brutish rampage of *** gone mad turning your body into clouds and red splash ribbons don't be sorry she said with pursed lips your rabid hunger my own i am an abyss of dark desires a savage wraith i want to kiss you like a lecher all ******* and cherries with legs squandered wide a Halloween grotesque with a ponytail are you going to eat me like a communion wafer okay if it will save you am i not a saint of lust "There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends" john15:13 so have your fun at my expense make me your house of horrors greased for the scalding of your whip ill be good please do your worst and ill show you my best promise me pretty please kisses and cries rainbows and ash blistering ecstatic
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My fingers pluck the strings Of willow wood mandolin Upon my knee it sits The wood of willow As smooth as a feather pillow Atop my knee sits In steady posture In my heart of hearts There tears a lonely hollow My voice shrieks shallow The willow wood mandolin Shatters into splinters Splinters pierce my skin Filling through my body From my heart of hearts A willow chisel carves Away the organs That flow and break From my eyes Bleed wood chips My tongue drools Sawdust A girl no more sits Under this willow But a wood sculpture Of steady posture
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
Willow Wood Mandolin
Hiding behind text messages we believe immunizes the heart is a forced loneliness a perpetual confinement in a dark room, with low music which only breeds madness In such famine, the body desires touch the soul craves fellowship the mind requires intellectualism laughs between true friends and shared tears of kindred spirits Once we can no longer bear starvation comes the gluttonous feast As wretched hogs at a trough any form of attention is consumed to fill the growing chasm of worthlessness Blinded by false admiration on backlit screens the body, the soul, and the mind savors cheap flattery of dark temptations Vulgarity drools thick as blood from blackened lips The sweet tinge of grief that bitter hit of hatred spirals descent into the dark void that forever hides the light
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Famine
I'm just a little Marvel Girl hiding behind her super heros Black widow yes Please Hawkeye Even better Xmen Avengers LOKI drools Yes yes yes PLEEEEEEEASE I'm just A little Marvel Girl Devouring everything in sight You could say I'm obbsessed But I would say I have it just Right
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Little Marvel Girl
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 9:38 AM UTC
Just Friends ******
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
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54
The morning fog paints the forest hillside an ashen shade of pale dawn shadows arising — stumbling through the dark, disappearing like some kind of disappointment drifting in the memory of a forgotten dream a sigh settles in a fragile breath upon the windowpane then drools down upon the sill like gathered dust on an empty picture frame a sudden gust of loneliness brings a reawakening shiver whispering silently as an old violin without a bow, tuned to a forlorn   hidden ache — in the quiet darkness of your memories Jesse Stillwater
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
Sudden Gust of Loneliness
I'm a little late, so I'll put in my drawer in my night stand a letter I found. Is it a letter? No, it is an invitation to your funeral plans. As if that is not a smack in my face...WHAM! You thought I wasn't ever a loyal man because I went away, unplanned. But let me take a stand, for you missed the part where I gave you my hand. I was on a flight one blizzard night. When I get off, my rental car was towed because the company said I owed more for how many miles I put on it. See, the car and I were on a trip to gather your family for you, but you didn't believe me. I stayed in a hotel with them, missing you. Their phone connections were off, too and all I had was the TV in that hotel room. To pass the time of course was my only intention, but when I saw our precious 2 story house on the breaking news, I saw that a fire had taken you. I was utterly confused. I pinched myself because I thought I was dreaming. Until, one day, I saw your will claimed we had nothing to do with each other in terms of our engagement. What a scam! I cried and denied the will until I no longer could feel. It's been months and the detectives are still interviewing me. See, your life was important; way more than me. I went to visit and kiss what was left of the fence. I pleaded with hopelessness, "We want you back!" Suicide letter found. It reads: "Winter grows dead leaves, and the trees are morbidly idle. Our nights grew earlier, and our fights were a given. So I bet you'll view it on the news that house number 652 blew away this winter day. What was my defeat? We were a mismatch, that you knew. You were a backstab, I took it through and through. You were half snatched when I was into you. I never wanted you to be this fool that drools over the fun little boys do. I put you on this pedestal, blind to know the rest of you. I was frozen into your atmosphere of departure, thawed to my agony. Why did you ever leave?"
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
Letter Found
I'm a little late, so I'll put in my drawer in my night stand a letter I found. Is it a letter? No, it is an invitation to your funeral plans. As if that is not a smack in my face...WHAM! You thought I wasn't ever a loyal man because I went away, unplanned. But let me take a stand, for you missed the part where I gave you my hand. I was on a flight one blizzard night. When I get off, my rental car was towed because the company said I owed more for how many miles I put on it. See, the car and I were on a trip to gather your family for you, but you didn't believe me. I stayed in a hotel with them, missing you. Their phone connections were off, too and all I had was the TV in that hotel room. To pass the time of course was my only intention, but when I saw our precious 2 story house on the breaking news, I saw that a fire had taken you. I was utterly confused. I pinched myself because I thought I was dreaming. Until, one day, I saw your will claimed we had nothing to do with each other in terms of our engagement. What a scam! I cried and denied the will until I no longer could feel. It's been months and the detectives are still interviewing me. See, your life was important; way more than me. I went to visit and kiss what was left of the fence. I pleaded with hopelessness, "We want you back!" Suicide letter found. It reads: "Winter grows dead leaves, and the trees are morbidly idle. Our nights grew earlier, and our fights were a given. So I bet you'll view it on the news that house number 652 blew away this winter day. What was my defeat? We were a mismatch, that you knew. You were a backstab, I took it through and through. You were half snatched when I was into you. I never wanted you to be this fool that drools over the fun little boys do. I put you on this pedestal, blind to know the rest of you. I was frozen into your atmosphere of departure, thawed to my agony. Why did you ever leave?"
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So there’s a girl across the street A girl to whom he’s grown accrete A girl he’s just to scared to greet But yet still he sits and hopes You see she’s in love with Darren However Darren’s in love with Karen And Karen sits and stares at Bob, who’s probably gay, probably not, But still he drools over Linda, Who’s stare is blank and barren, Pointed at the anti-nerd, football loving, guru Darren. Yes it’s really that simple, Forget love triangle, more love enneadecagon, Gone, That reminds him, as it hits his head like a hadron, Gone, Are his hopes of him and the girl across the street. Her features to him, were long developed similes, They came to his brain, seamlessly, chemically, Of course he’s never express these feelings formally, But to him they acted as a soothing love remedy. Her eyes were golden like caramelised sugar, Or the enticing qualities of slowly melting butter, Each eye, a galaxy waiting to be discovered, And yes he means the chocolate bar. Her hair is crimson like strawberry laces, Which reminds him of the disadvantages of having braces, But he braces himself as though it’s his duty, Braces himself for an overwhelming amount of beauty. She talks to him about all the awful things that guys do, She then says she wishes that more guys were like you, She says she wants that guy to show up this year, But what she doesn’t see, is that that he’s standing right here. So there’s a guy across the street A guy to whom she’s grown accrete A guy she’s just to scared to greet But yet still she sits and hopes You see he’s in love with her neighbour, A chore that she knows can be a labour, Yet she knows she can be the saviour, Because she is even greater So one day to no surprise, he’s looking out with eager eyes, they lock eyes, butterflies, quite surprised, more butterflies, they remain like that til sunrise, emotions start to normalise, then fluctuate because of those **** butterflies. So there’s a girl across the street A girl to whom he’s grown accrete A girl he wasn’t scared to meet And now they live and bond Because that girls in love with Darren, However Darren’s in love with Karen, But who cares, They have each other for the rest of their days And beyond.
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 10:57 AM UTC
An average love poem
So there’s a girl across the street A girl to whom he’s grown accrete A girl he’s just to scared to greet But yet still he sits and hopes You see she’s in love with Darren However Darren’s in love with Karen And Karen sits and stares at Bob, who’s probably gay, probably not, But still he drools over Linda, Who’s stare is blank and barren, Pointed at the anti-nerd, football loving, guru Darren. Yes it’s really that simple, Forget love triangle, more love enneadecagon, Gone, That reminds him, as it hits his head like a hadron, Gone, Are his hopes of him and the girl across the street. Her features to him, were long developed similes, They came to his brain, seamlessly, chemically, Of course he’s never express these feelings formally, But to him they acted as a soothing love remedy. Her eyes were golden like caramelised sugar, Or the enticing qualities of slowly melting butter, Each eye, a galaxy waiting to be discovered, And yes he means the chocolate bar. Her hair is crimson like strawberry laces, Which reminds him of the disadvantages of having braces, But he braces himself as though it’s his duty, Braces himself for an overwhelming amount of beauty. She talks to him about all the awful things that guys do, She then says she wishes that more guys were like you, She says she wants that guy to show up this year, But what she doesn’t see, is that that he’s standing right here. So there’s a guy across the street A guy to whom she’s grown accrete A guy she’s just to scared to greet But yet still she sits and hopes You see he’s in love with her neighbour, A chore that she knows can be a labour, Yet she knows she can be the saviour, Because she is even greater So one day to no surprise, he’s looking out with eager eyes, they lock eyes, butterflies, quite surprised, more butterflies, they remain like that til sunrise, emotions start to normalise, then fluctuate because of those **** butterflies. So there’s a girl across the street A girl to whom he’s grown accrete A girl he wasn’t scared to meet And now they live and bond Because that girls in love with Darren, However Darren’s in love with Karen, But who cares, They have each other for the rest of their days And beyond.
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50
Right food forward, left follows Forth by the gravitational pull of his electric eyes Like a magnetic force Drawing me in, attracting me, Influencing my strings, convincing me I am still the puppeteer. My hand slips away from the grasp of my rules It has become busy Tangled within bows and gift wrappings First, my tongue. It parts my lips, drools at the gleam of the sharp blade, Then, communication falls. Second, my ripe cherry of purity. Naked. Peeled. Devoured. Finally, the puppeteer demands Take a sledge hammer to the wall. Reveal the heart once and for all. Tear it out. Gift wrap it. Into the emptiness I plummet Down into the bowel, through the stomach ****** awake by the sinking feeling Empty room, all truth revealing Right foot forward, left follows Forth by the gravitational pull left by his hollows Body trapped in in the lingerings of his magnetic field His electric gaze the portal Storing the Love Comedy wielded in Horror Tear out your heart. Gift wrap it. Place it into his arms Watch him drop it. Mouth gaping. No tongue to speak. Just eyes watching, from above to the side Out of body out of my mind I am the puppeteer who tore out my heart Gift wrapped it with bows Hypnotically placed it in his arms of doubt He dropped it. Severing me from the gravitational pull Awakening me from my trance to witness My heart there Pulsating Against the cold. Concrete. Floor.
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
A Wasted Heart
*Like a pin on a spike the dim light creaks dull bright and fungus glums in the 'tween as it might... and a yearling takes a day to bring about the long, wrong night as amber drools from the lungs of a stunted kite, the wind is an idiot pruning the sun from a suspect sky. how we talk in the interim is nuts, but the lust excels. it grooms the pollution, and yes it threatens the fresh blood of our last regrets. but... yes fathom the windmills of our mangoes as a fruit - Less. some other joy that - has a boy gone more less than kept. and crease the wrinkle in your starlight to moon if not to breath*
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 2:51 AM UTC
The Myth Of Mangoes
do you like to ride me tingy mingy *** screaming lady noodles she said with lots a sass you can ride my tuk tuk while your nose drools snot its yummy yum spicy ***** hot *** in shorts and sandals bingles and bangles hot and sweet lips kissy tangles she cooks the dish and kiss you sweet peppers and fish i love her feet beep beep pretty little miss miss lemon grass soup honey **** tisk tisk tan tan girl does the fuckarochi licks sweet sticky **** he always buys her Gucci how about a jet ride all the way to **** **** i want to be in Thailand with tingy mingy tuk tuk
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
TINGY MINGY TUK TUK...Manga
Rita bustled busily, To decorate each room With jack-o'-lanterns, giggling ghouls, And grinning ghosts with dribbled drools, And moonlight glimmered spookily On ghastly painted tombs; She went to fetch her costume And hoped it wouldn't itch; She grabbed a strange and pointed hat, An odd shaped broom, a stuffed black cat, And in the mirror of her room She turned into a witch! A sudden tap-tap-tapping Came from her green front door; She opened it excitedly, A-wondering who it might be And then she started clapping And dancing on the floor! Her good friend Fox was outside, He wore a long black cape; With plastic fangs, he danced about, But when he sang his fangs fell out! They laughed so hard, then went inside And had a slice of cake!
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Rita's Halloween Party
twitters and tweets pictures are sweets keeping you hooked on the tabloid elites just out of bed, hair on his head matted and messy, way better than said your public is waiting and verging on vexed "stay tuned for more selfies",  you casually text. stand by the mirror and pose for your followers leading them into the worship of men drawn to the sight of your bare naked belly this bowl full of jelly is quaking, and then this one, her *** just after the baby she's worked out like crazy, perhaps she just clazy spray-tanned and bare butted tattooed and nare studded back in the crack but her tact has been share gutted no worries, it all comes around in some hotel bathroom you click at your Iphone like all of the rest of us, yet so alone trying to snap one both **** and manly the wife beater t-shirt, the boxers and phone we can't really blame you, your business, your life quest but fashion is funny right down to the jewels both earlobes sport earrings, just like mommy dearest whatever your pleasure, some little girl drools and she scantly clad there, for all of her viewers could not give a **** about "ahhers" or "ew'ers" but don't stop, you're on top and making your money and laughing right back, since we're also quite funny we once wore our hair all pulled up or with mullet thought no one was laughing, we knew we were cool and now all the stuff which we wore gone forever or passed off as costume, just vintage, old school where somebody bought it from some smelly thrift shop and wore it again with a sense of true style the polaroid pictures we took at the bus stop that camera is back and will be for a while Stand at the mirror and smile for your camera not really getting that folks can be odd some are perverted, while others disturbed and still others are cranky and smelling like cod. Someday you'll grow up, a mommy or daddy or maybe a granny once shaking her ***** or maybe a pop-pop and scoff a their moptop and laugh with your grandkids it  all comes around.
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Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
comes around
twitters and tweets pictures are sweets keeping you hooked on the tabloid elites just out of bed, hair on his head matted and messy, way better than said your public is waiting and verging on vexed "stay tuned for more selfies",  you casually text. stand by the mirror and pose for your followers leading them into the worship of men drawn to the sight of your bare naked belly this bowl full of jelly is quaking, and then this one, her *** just after the baby she's worked out like crazy, perhaps she just clazy spray-tanned and bare butted tattooed and nare studded back in the crack but her tact has been share gutted no worries, it all comes around in some hotel bathroom you click at your Iphone like all of the rest of us, yet so alone trying to snap one both **** and manly the wife beater t-shirt, the boxers and phone we can't really blame you, your business, your life quest but fashion is funny right down to the jewels both earlobes sport earrings, just like mommy dearest whatever your pleasure, some little girl drools and she scantly clad there, for all of her viewers could not give a **** about "ahhers" or "ew'ers" but don't stop, you're on top and making your money and laughing right back, since we're also quite funny we once wore our hair all pulled up or with mullet thought no one was laughing, we knew we were cool and now all the stuff which we wore gone forever or passed off as costume, just vintage, old school where somebody bought it from some smelly thrift shop and wore it again with a sense of true style the polaroid pictures we took at the bus stop that camera is back and will be for a while Stand at the mirror and smile for your camera not really getting that folks can be odd some are perverted, while others disturbed and still others are cranky and smelling like cod. Someday you'll grow up, a mommy or daddy or maybe a granny once shaking her ***** or maybe a pop-pop and scoff a their moptop and laugh with your grandkids it  all comes around.
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Airwaves awash in the new gospel barrage: calling forth the neighbourhood hack, Abe Lincoln toon in towering hat,   the corporation is coming - will you not collaborate my friend? Everything good that you ever dreamed of is here: Marbonite floored flats with self-terraced roofs; The swankiest of cars, in imported hues; Your arm candy drools, now, brands, bigger brands! All in your grasp, now, in community gates shut safe as society decays. Skies spitting frogs? Pestilences amass? Listen to the Gospel according to Bane: in the desert, smell octane. Hallelujah, everything we make, from watches to headscarves - your underwear is cheaper sourced from the next so-lala-land. Forget your sources tiny of incomes varying: Bakers, cobblers, tinkerers, we also have a uniform for you. Oh you rustic tradition-bound bandy bumpkins! Abandon your alleyways, and welcome to the ghettos...where What you eat, to where to retreat: we cure everything from heartache to panache. Wash away your sins in wonder medicines; Waters can part, yes, see how the Pharoah is disarmed; Big city dreams, dream global manna beams. All that is needed for salvation, is a little bit of classification. Are you left-wing or right? Center-left or center-right? The powerdrill tearing down edifices resonating through noon. A crane arm's shadow hovering high by the moon. Tablets from skies now proclaim the new gospel for the land, the airwaves are awash of the miracle of Witwatersrand. The corporation is coming, to a store near you: Amen! Will you not, then, collaborate, my friend?
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
The corporation is coming
Airwaves awash in the new gospel barrage: calling forth the neighbourhood hack, Abe Lincoln toon in towering hat,   the corporation is coming - will you not collaborate my friend? Everything good that you ever dreamed of is here: Marbonite floored flats with self-terraced roofs; The swankiest of cars, in imported hues; Your arm candy drools, now, brands, bigger brands! All in your grasp, now, in community gates shut safe as society decays. Skies spitting frogs? Pestilences amass? Listen to the Gospel according to Bane: in the desert, smell octane. Hallelujah, everything we make, from watches to headscarves - your underwear is cheaper sourced from the next so-lala-land. Forget your sources tiny of incomes varying: Bakers, cobblers, tinkerers, we also have a uniform for you. Oh you rustic tradition-bound bandy bumpkins! Abandon your alleyways, and welcome to the ghettos...where What you eat, to where to retreat: we cure everything from heartache to panache. Wash away your sins in wonder medicines; Waters can part, yes, see how the Pharoah is disarmed; Big city dreams, dream global manna beams. All that is needed for salvation, is a little bit of classification. Are you left-wing or right? Center-left or center-right? The powerdrill tearing down edifices resonating through noon. A crane arm's shadow hovering high by the moon. Tablets from skies now proclaim the new gospel for the land, the airwaves are awash of the miracle of Witwatersrand. The corporation is coming, to a store near you: Amen! Will you not, then, collaborate, my friend?
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cats looking into your eyes what does they want what iz they surprize the cat attacks it is my demize the cat agrees the cat complies cats eating brown food cats not happy cats no happy mood cats begin to smoke and drools cats doing many things cats really rude cats cats cats the cat the cat the cat I see him he is terror coming from the skies I see the cat I see his eyes I see the cat it is my demize cats
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
Cats
Scholastic escapades of theft and the smearing of stools are a sure janitorial surprise in suburban utopia. I have scraped dinner off my plate, onto the floor. So, pick the tar which slowly drools down the shaft of wooden telegraph poles in the height of mid-seventies summers, whilst classic rock resounds her commanding octaves throughout the snow in summer. I have always respected those who are elderly and have given thanks to solidarity whilst sausages spark in the frying pan. Look at the crows as they maintain circular flight above the stony church steeple, and rebel against authority whilst you wet your bed.
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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
Infantile Defiance
I am Coyote in human form one who drools poetry sly as a bag of bones alert to every hazard Long odds   are nothing to me I'll beat every beast with courage and finesse And to get to the next realm where I become myself I must leave scant traces survey the world through scent and sound And find the bridge that builds itself as I walk across a terrifying chasm of evolution and magic to human form Here to ponder your fate Here to look to your good nature Here to endure your pogroms And survey your world notwithstanding your traps and tricks with a modicum of good cheer. Ever wary. Ever well.
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Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
Incidental Poem for a Rainy Day