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"dyslexic" poems
Life is a movie and men are really actors. Some get the lead role, while others are just extras. It's a hierarchy, you got the over zealous ****** on top and ******* below. If you can sell your soul, you'll make headlines. Get paid. Buy a steak or something. Care only about yourself and **** everybody else over, in whatever position you'd like ;) .Fight ***** or don't fight at all. Sucker punch the Devil for trickin' you and book it. Run, run fast, like the cops  are after you. Shit's about to go down. It's Irony, in his emmy winning role! Shameful that "The laws" are just dyslexic interpretations of petty rules anyways. Use logic, not obedience
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 3:01 AM UTC
The Adventures Of A Real-Life Psychopath.
Balcony Life: Sometimes I just watched outside, and it was a glorious day. Children actually played. Groups sunbathed and basked in beer Ice-cream vans were heard not far from here Above a plane heading somewhere etched its mark traced in nothing but just plain blue sky, for miles, as far as the eyes could see. Up the motorway, the sun ignites on speeding sunroofs Toward the Campsie Fells set in a haze of bottle green The white trickle of yesterdays snow cut like some dyslexic ancient symbol A place for misspent youth and baking trays on icy days A hot cheap brand coffee in a chipped petrol-token mug Perched on weathered wrought iron painted brown like last year Meant so much in that moment grasped and shaped like glass with glee I remember that there is life in this here estate sometimes Watching as you do, from your own slice of life on your patch of balcony
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:24 AM UTC
Voices from the North part 2
--- did you hear about about the dyslexic insomniac believer ? he stayed up all night trying to convert a STOIC NAG !!! soulsurvivor (C) 5/26/2015
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 4:17 AM UTC
cosmic joke
if you are schizophrenic a small voice will tell you what number to press if you are co-dependent someone will press 2 for you if you are paranoid we know where you are and know what you want and we will trace your call if you are depressive it does not matter no one will answer you if you have multiple personalizes press 3456 if you are dyslexic press 696969696969 if you have a nervous disorder fidget with # key until the beep, after the beep, please wait for the beep   if you are obsessive compulsive press 1 repeatedly if you are delusional press 7 and the mothership will answer you
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
THIS IS THE MENTAL HEALTH HOTLINE
To die, To fall, To lose, In an act of, Life-giving, Spirit lifting, Victory, Is simply, Nonsensical, And yet, Perfect, Completely, Irrational, And yet, Thought out, And so, Incomprehensible, With human mind, But absolutely, And definitely, The right thing to do, Because God loved the world so much, He would let his own creation, Take his only son from him, To save his creation, From the hands of evil. And the best thing? The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all, Is that he did it for all mankind. Athiest Agnostic Christian Jew Muslim Sikh Hindu Buddhist Black White Straight Gay Lesbian Bisexual Asexual Boy Girl Bigender Transgender Agender Young Old Kind Cruel Happy Sad Rich Poor Healthy Ill Free Enslaved Safe Afraid Intelligent Stupid Deaf Blind Disabled Handicapped Single Taken Married Divorced Remarried Widowed Lost Found Persecuted Persecutor Murderer Self-harmer Suicidal Unloved Adored Popular Ignored Beautiful Ugly Guilty Innocent Outcast Desperate Autistic Bulimic Alcoholic Bipolar Addict Dyslexic Anorexic Schizophrenic SAVED Every single human being ever born is saved.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Oxymoron God
Count-entious . . . Five-Seven-Five, or Is it Seven-Five-Seven? Dyslexic Haiku! High Coo-Coo . . . Words like scrambled eggs Malapropos slip off the tongs Lysdexics UNTIE! In Swummary . . . I never flip turned I zagged; everyone else zigged Oh, how I was schooled
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
Living Dyslexia
The blind Parisian has never seen the tower, or the lights that illuminate his city of birth The deaf Italian never heard the opera, or Core 'ngrato from a Tuscany street corner I never looked into your eyes and saw the cosmos I am distracted by the power of corporate America The unflinching pacifist still stands atop a suit of armour with his arms outstretched and Syria rejoices as the stench of liberty matches gun powder and familial genocide Oh western world, have you forgotten your past so soon? Explain to the deaf man how her voice sounds or Explain the colour spectrum to a blind child and then deny the tears that water your cheek Tell the dyslexic that words are meaningless for it gives him comfort and turn your back on the monetary religion of which we are indoctrinated Take your ******* industry and bring it to it's submissive knees Your weapons too, they are a disgrace Empathy is universal Love is blind [Cliche] [Cliche] End. A return, or a refrain, addendum to the ideas thenceforth It's enough to leave a man crying in his coffee, Starbucks specialty **** your poets, burn your books and gouge your eyes This world is not broken, we are.
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Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Before the Dawn, Adorned, We Are Still Standing Here but Existence is No Longer Relevant
how poor has the world become when to feel, you have to bash someone no matter how odd they are lead my mind to great people albert einstein my favourite dyslexic how outrages was da vinci's ideas in his days the list goes on, but the world is still the same no matter the century all the technology and research has not changed the human nature to destroy what does not resemble "me" we like people because they reflect something of us we never really bother to look deeper at the unique person behind the image this is why i am condemned to loneliness till death years of isolation amidst people left my mirror slightly de-angled thus i cannot reflect what people want to see
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
condemned to loneliness till death
i swear but i'll sleep under your bed if you'll let me & eat the dust in the crawl space between your kitchen walls when you're entertaining guests & only come out when they're in another room or you ask me to i'm not stalking you i swear i'm actually on this ladder fixing your neighbor's gutter yes this same spot has been damaged for three years & deserves a complex solution arrived at by strenuous deliberation i'm not stalking you i swear i'm not wearing the cologne you bought your ex for christmas last year & threw out into the aluminum trashcan six months ago because that ******* didn't appreciate you like i could i'm not stalking you i swear i don't know how your mail gets mixed up with mine at least twice a week the postman must be dyslexic & also trade his mailbag with the guy who delivers mine for five dollar bribes i'm not stalking you i swear it's just funny we go to the same dentist & you have such white teeth my mother would love you if only for them i'm not stalking you i swear this idea hasn't been growing in my brain since i was an innocent boy spurting his essence into a gym class knee high sock at night after watching baywatch reruns i'm not stalking you i swear i don't spend my days wondering if i should get ****** piercings because you seem like the type to enjoy them i'm not stalking you i swear i walk home this way too but instead of a third floor elevator ride in a gated community on the next block i'll continue three more blocks west take the train back south four miles & finish cutting through alleys for another mile until i arrive at my own cellar apartment it's not out of my way i don't mind taking an alternative route i'm not stalking you i swear but your cheekbones are stealing my sleep & when i do dream you turn your *** toward me not in surrender but defiance that vicious dilated ******* and heavy flesh taunting me in my own fleabed forever
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
i'm not stalking you
i swear but i'll sleep under your bed if you'll let me & eat the dust in the crawl space between your kitchen walls when you're entertaining guests & only come out when they're in another room or you ask me to i'm not stalking you i swear i'm actually on this ladder fixing your neighbor's gutter yes this same spot has been damaged for three years & deserves a complex solution arrived at by strenuous deliberation i'm not stalking you i swear i'm not wearing the cologne you bought your ex for christmas last year & threw out into the aluminum trashcan six months ago because that ******* didn't appreciate you like i could i'm not stalking you i swear i don't know how your mail gets mixed up with mine at least twice a week the postman must be dyslexic & also trade his mailbag with the guy who delivers mine for five dollar bribes i'm not stalking you i swear it's just funny we go to the same dentist & you have such white teeth my mother would love you if only for them i'm not stalking you i swear this idea hasn't been growing in my brain since i was an innocent boy spurting his essence into a gym class knee high sock at night after watching baywatch reruns i'm not stalking you i swear i don't spend my days wondering if i should get ****** piercings because you seem like the type to enjoy them i'm not stalking you i swear i walk home this way too but instead of a third floor elevator ride in a gated community on the next block i'll continue three more blocks west take the train back south four miles & finish cutting through alleys for another mile until i arrive at my own cellar apartment it's not out of my way i don't mind taking an alternative route i'm not stalking you i swear but your cheekbones are stealing my sleep & when i do dream you turn your *** toward me not in surrender but defiance that vicious dilated ******* and heavy flesh taunting me in my own fleabed forever
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although my dyslexia is cognitive it never stopped me from knowing my position as a woman to understand to acquire knowledge perception to be a woman to be quiet to be submissive to be polite to smile i knew my position as a woman before i discovered i was dyslexic
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
tainted cognition
I am gazing at a shining portrait as my desire is announced by distant bell chimes. I merge with the paint and feel absorbed into a different timeline. In the painting, the wind carries a scent of a familiar tree assorted with the melody of its leaves. It all brings back the memory of a song that I love, that reminds me of a woman I met in a vision from a dream yet I don't know the language it is made of, nor I can sing it for I am dyslexic in the ear. This is an illusion, I see it. Still, I deem it to be real, similar to a scene that I keep reliving as I wander the mystical golden desert, I wonder is fulfillment an insult or a compliment if attained outside the ordinary strains of sensual accomplishments? Disconcerted by previous arrangements i think it through to realize this is an illusion is just a tattoo . Words Of Harfouchism
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Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 5:28 AM UTC
Disillusion
I am dyslexic, And I can spell: D-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n. Font wards and backwards. I can invent new ways, How it looks, sounds. I am dyslexic And I stumble over the word: L-I-F-E. This lyfe's Syllables I have yet to conquer Or the ability to make it possible. Life                                Lyef            Liph                                                                             Lief
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
Dyslexia
A naive innocuous man disregarded even by his wife out of her vanity as a princess The only strength for him proved to be his beloved 'Pushpavali' A lady with character and will who took the river of words out of the rocky hill She transformed a dyslexic 'kali' to an intelligent Kalidas - true love of pushpavali and sacrificed her life to make her love meet his wife Kalidas renowned as a great poet but the poem was incomplete yet His poems were highly praised unknown to the inspiration from which they were being raised Kalidas as a poet was much above but the very fact is that behind all this was TRUE LOVE   TRUE LOVE of Pushpavali !
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Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 2:29 AM UTC
Pushpavali - Beloved of the great Indian Poet Kalidas
***I'm so glad you finally got it you bring your own best friend if not you'd be your own worst enemy*** *Hahaha true I know you too You meant to say* 'I have a friend in you' *How many friends Have you in there who are they true Oh yes, hahaha some dyslexic me's haha *** funny right cute tho too You just imagine being wrapped up So often not knowing who's who or where One begins or if another ends so part the issue* ***I'm not sure Sa Sun its hard to tell who's*** *Friend who's enemy they all wear a smile* Okay so well... ***Architect be midwife see Wooing enabling one best outcome of both mother and child... Simply that to the finest health and loving environment of... hearts, hands and arms of the three*** *So who and or what is this child therefore too the mother or bride back to jesus and vedic speak are we not with child already...* ***Is that kingdom at our hands... Is expected or not*** *Bridegroom considered male spiritual energy of God in all creation kind of dualistic temporarily and artificial our own making for this while only so the Bride is Manifest Creation or here we consider first of as primary too our existence this earth first or mostly thus mother is female* ***Afu and Ra with Ka Ra as Bridegroom male spiritual too Ka powering Is.. Is forgiving all that brings us back into           S        C      I           L      R      T    N   U      A       I     Y      G***
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
Hope you do know I have a friend in me!
***** del the dealer dyslexsic dodgy bloke got a can stuck up my nose when i tried sniffing coke offered me a bisco discuit i think was ecstasy said that i would dance all night but he called it a d snack, and ***** d.m.a maraganja, **** pc plod approached the scene and del was off at speed
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Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 11:50 AM UTC
dyslexic dealer
recollecting collections projecting selections injecting protection infection dejection dyslexic narcoleptic rejecting dejections ******** complexion complicating interjections perplexed inspectors intercept pterodactyls relaxing in backpacks extracting disillusion contortionist philanthropist dejected transgression implementing eradications of moss buying patrons eclectic perfectionist rests limp-wristed whispering disparaging remarks to the wait staff trombone percussionist impressed and impoverished gravelling wistfully mimicking Rickles I sit half disheveled grinding my wisdom teeth feeling the fleeting muse sitting in disbelief –
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
this **** could sit on a shingle
I wish I wasn't so doG danm dyslexic
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
Forty One . Dyslexia
it's hot in a restaurant with the strangers you've since been stranded with (look! You Finally Did It!) and everybody knows your name but the symbolism of individualized letters with glottal stops and teeth-sucking pauses and dyslexic lingering lisps is lost on them, they have their own letters to think about, don't you know? (hundreds of pillows fly out my ears in increasing sizes, so i must be dreaming - Right?) Yahtzee! Soccer! Give it the old college try! (abstract oils crash and burn in a watchtower atop of your New Life) It's Something to do with your Mouth, It's Something to do with your Hands, but we couldn't tell you why $2.50 wasted matters more than four months and the casual flinging of my (god forbid) i n n o c e n c e (you're happy and i'm unconscious, so in theory we're on the same wavelength - Right?) can you assure me that everyone has two decades of nauseating mediocrity or no - is it just me? we Need coffee! we Need love! dread has to be evenly distributed - don't leave your years of it at my door! (i don't want anybody's advice unless it's on how to fashion a fully-functioning noose) tiny lips and long socks - i can't stop being in love with the whole two-eye/two-ear/nose/mouth ordeal but i'm utterly left-handed in my lust and i swear to god both hands are empty - but that's something else entirely (back to where we started from, in bleeding headlights swimming on deserted streets) 'just wanted to throw an XO your way' say the eyes of every crossword connection i bend over backwards to trying to cater it to my thoughts of you (For Sale: a storage unit of journals filled with sketches of you - it's pink and mushy and curled inside my head, if you're into that) and it's only when we're in a bed together at 3:26 AM that belongs to neither you or me that i can consciously eliminate emptied emotions and neatly file them onto typeface notes hidden in bouquets decorating the dismal-ities of my freshly-planted tombstone (fuse our bodies together and let's make this sarcophagus a necrophilia-polis)
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Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
It'd Be a Suicide Pact But You're Not Sad Anymore
it's hot in a restaurant with the strangers you've since been stranded with (look! You Finally Did It!) and everybody knows your name but the symbolism of individualized letters with glottal stops and teeth-sucking pauses and dyslexic lingering lisps is lost on them, they have their own letters to think about, don't you know? (hundreds of pillows fly out my ears in increasing sizes, so i must be dreaming - Right?) Yahtzee! Soccer! Give it the old college try! (abstract oils crash and burn in a watchtower atop of your New Life) It's Something to do with your Mouth, It's Something to do with your Hands, but we couldn't tell you why $2.50 wasted matters more than four months and the casual flinging of my (god forbid) i n n o c e n c e (you're happy and i'm unconscious, so in theory we're on the same wavelength - Right?) can you assure me that everyone has two decades of nauseating mediocrity or no - is it just me? we Need coffee! we Need love! dread has to be evenly distributed - don't leave your years of it at my door! (i don't want anybody's advice unless it's on how to fashion a fully-functioning noose) tiny lips and long socks - i can't stop being in love with the whole two-eye/two-ear/nose/mouth ordeal but i'm utterly left-handed in my lust and i swear to god both hands are empty - but that's something else entirely (back to where we started from, in bleeding headlights swimming on deserted streets) 'just wanted to throw an XO your way' say the eyes of every crossword connection i bend over backwards to trying to cater it to my thoughts of you (For Sale: a storage unit of journals filled with sketches of you - it's pink and mushy and curled inside my head, if you're into that) and it's only when we're in a bed together at 3:26 AM that belongs to neither you or me that i can consciously eliminate emptied emotions and neatly file them onto typeface notes hidden in bouquets decorating the dismal-ities of my freshly-planted tombstone (fuse our bodies together and let's make this sarcophagus a necrophilia-polis)
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This mist of darkness, And that fog of yours. My complaining silhouette, I've left to wither. Yesterday we had an argument, Of cold tendencies. By the hum of – A washing machine, Bleaching our guilt. I've mentioned my Fascination, admiration. Selfish nature. You've pleased a dozen Devils. My subtle angel. I thought I dreamt Of trailing grey snow. A crime scene; Bogus tears running around. With cops of steel. But it was only, Your ever invisible face.
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 11:25 PM UTC
Oxygen Shortages in Dyslexic Speak
The fat man wore a T-Shirt It said he’d beaten Anorexia I stopped and thought ‘well done’. It had stolen my daughter and my soul. The waitress’s t shirt read ‘Keep calm and eat cup cakes’ So I kept calm and ate cupcakes. I ate eight cupcakes. My daughter liked cupcakes My daughter liked T-Shirts. The Dyslexic teens T Shirt said ‘I worship dog’ I stayed silent and admired his faith. I was dyslexic and once had Faith. My daughter was called Faith. She was safe and warm in the hands of ‘dog’
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
the T shirt said
When I was a girl I thought love was a guitar player with shaggy brown hair colored eyes a poet a Christian with perfect teeth. I thought love was someone who would put up with my craziness and my insecurities. I didn't know that love was ***** blonde hair and green eyes with teeth that weren't quite perfect but would shape the words "shut up" every time I plucked an insecurity like a harp string. I didn't know that love hated reading but would watch me while my eyes caressed the words he could barely read I didn't know that love would be dyslexic. But love pretends to understand the words anyways. I thought love would stand the test of time. I thought that when love picked up a uniform and an M-16, boarded a plane it would grow stronger. That was 2 years ago this past May and my place in your heart has been replaced by a patch that reads U.S. Army Airborne Ranger Sometimes love turns out to be a soldier.
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 7:10 PM UTC
I never know what to name these things..
sometimes i feel like i am in the midwest sitting in queens dyslexic listening to Jessye Norman (who listens to her anymore) sometimes i am flying over the sea algae deep, crashing mountains, ocean green its the same every night when you are not here i get home do dishes heat rice and dahl open a beer wait, wait, something on the weimar republic is on tonight that's not new the same questions why the jews how could so many die in broad day light while He walked the earth? biblical tales that still need interpretation who is the weaker of the two before now or after? Jessye now sings Samson and Delilah, the announcer announces the singer sings, "my heart opens to your voice like a flower my dearest let your loving words dry my tears tell me you are returning to Delilah repeat the vows you made long ago the vows i used to believe in" the vows of heaven on earth? the vows of justice? who stands to inherit the earth ... the meek?     c'mon! by G-d she could sing
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Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
Fictions drag
Honest He who doesn't work, works **** or just can't commit He homeless He an affair and a **** good fix ****** with a tendency to show underwhelming **** Twisted into nicety by such anger at the human, the wants Good at *** when in love Un-abused Un-poisened One of my best mates like Dyslexic thick **** A problem Step child and real life son, grandson always, always, grandson eldest unappreciated, underestimated, paranioder? Paranoidist. One of the needers of therapists Panicked by past Fractured by future A depressive, doesn't drink, do drudgery like drugs A fearfull mess mummy's boy Fatherless Fathered less A letdownshowoff overconfident, Anxious, ex husband, probable poofter, please Goddot, please, let he be a cheater A ex punk, definite ***** pushover, almost poet So easily hurt, yet never hurts My love one. (Cary you Guardian) Too damed romantic Cant read but by gosh buys books Genius artistic, Autistic, an idiot and just another bad student manish Little Boy child Unable to be alone and not a good flatmate Justifier of the almighty grey areas, The cheated... the Strong willed.
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Self Portrayal
I was bumming around Halifax town, it was dusk, or there about. Getting cold and in need of shelter, I entered an old abandon apartment that was toasted to in the worst of ways. All to make room for progress. There scrawled on what would have been the living room wall... The words written in blood, the funniest thing, it read... 'Dyslexic's of the World.. Untie' I knew I was home for the night, no big deal, if the bleeder came back at least he had a sense of humour.
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
Halifax Town
*yeah, let's compose the alphabet in music for each letter we try to sound like a wine bottle cork unplugged from vintage; it won't work, i known, but it might get a few skidding on gizmo go go, trying to democratise iran: try turning iran sunni first, you, you defrosted snowman worth a carrot and two chalk coal ******** writing: hardboiled into sight of believable. oh here comes a white man talking privy aloud with the rapper loosing breath, but keeping it up and replacing the pelvic hinges with easy, drool, rhymes; a kind of rubric tablature of scores for rodeo with alternative sounds to: moo, ow, ah, broomstick shoo, take the cow for a milking home from the dead bull dazzled into genesis on t.v.; or that other literati spectator sport of not reading but talking oneself into academic bibliography for an intro.* the great thing about being an alcoholic... you never quiet know when you're drunk or hungover; but it makes up for great twilight sunsets pooh lonely; ah ooh smooch - kisses a honey stick stuck to **** in a hollywood crescendo of                      paparazzi and applause; and anorexia; and dyslexic oiling for a facelift: that's called smiling i have you know -                           enter michael jackson - hippie hip he; if i die aged thirty, i'll be happy to have             been frisky twenty-nine into a thong. *or, alt., tell ****** about the swimming pool and the tadpole kenyans sprinting into impregnated landownerships of priests: sounds like this: pst - herr führer - die schwimmin poolst erst niener jessy ovens geeignet. no one said that african buttocks couldn't bayou the ships ashore, but they did; what?! i'm not the 12" dangle! you keep up racism, i'll keep up mozart's austria; alt. please see how censoring adjectives in relation to objects gives you a false moral subjectivity that's only a matter of pleasantries.*
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Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
or tell ****** about the swimming pool
*yeah, let's compose the alphabet in music for each letter we try to sound like a wine bottle cork unplugged from vintage; it won't work, i known, but it might get a few skidding on gizmo go go, trying to democratise iran: try turning iran sunni first, you, you defrosted snowman worth a carrot and two chalk coal ******** writing: hardboiled into sight of believable. oh here comes a white man talking privy aloud with the rapper loosing breath, but keeping it up and replacing the pelvic hinges with easy, drool, rhymes; a kind of rubric tablature of scores for rodeo with alternative sounds to: moo, ow, ah, broomstick shoo, take the cow for a milking home from the dead bull dazzled into genesis on t.v.; or that other literati spectator sport of not reading but talking oneself into academic bibliography for an intro.* the great thing about being an alcoholic... you never quiet know when you're drunk or hungover; but it makes up for great twilight sunsets pooh lonely; ah ooh smooch - kisses a honey stick stuck to **** in a hollywood crescendo of                      paparazzi and applause; and anorexia; and dyslexic oiling for a facelift: that's called smiling i have you know -                           enter michael jackson - hippie hip he; if i die aged thirty, i'll be happy to have             been frisky twenty-nine into a thong. *or, alt., tell ****** about the swimming pool and the tadpole kenyans sprinting into impregnated landownerships of priests: sounds like this: pst - herr führer - die schwimmin poolst erst niener jessy ovens geeignet. no one said that african buttocks couldn't bayou the ships ashore, but they did; what?! i'm not the 12" dangle! you keep up racism, i'll keep up mozart's austria; alt. please see how censoring adjectives in relation to objects gives you a false moral subjectivity that's only a matter of pleasantries.*
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