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"egging" poems
a black bat hangs upside down digesting a fly his face almost human a flying Frankenstein he excretes puddles of guano like miniature buttered popcorn a dark and wavy goulash gods gift to beetles and worms dizzied overheated men look on to an uproarious variety hour of song and a high heeled kicks inspiring a tempest of throbbing whisky drenched folded ***** and cash trouser trout fish,     undulant sexed up tape worms for love pulse the night egging on bunny **** pom poms devout finger puppets of Eros for shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos sequined tassel spinning areolas and lavish come **** me dance girls bring down the house in flames making hearts apostate clamoring and melt men like steaming everglades the bat hangs from the chandelier licks his black lips and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics hearing music a thunderous nonsense   witnessing visions of flies, tasty white winged moths and the thrill of screams while biting the head off of another bat in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
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Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
BURLESQUE MEETS A BAT
***** dishes piled peripherally Melting muscles begging to be built Education egging me on evilly Facebook friends warning I may wilt Clothes choking roomish rubble Coldhearted clocks click callously Traffic tickets to trouble Prodding for payment perniciously
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Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
Alliterative Aloquence
Why am I so frightened To say I'm me And publicly acknowledge My small mastery? Waiting for sixty years Till the people take out the horses And draw me to the theatre With triumphant voices? I know this won't happen Until it's too late And the deed done (or not done) So I prevaricate, Egging them on and keeping Roads open (just in case) Go on! Go on and do it In my place! Giving love to get it (The only way to behave). But hated and naked Could I stand up and say **** off! or, Be my slave! To be in a very unfeminine Very unloving state Is the desperate need Of anyone trying to write.
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3k
Trying To Write
There are men in this world that agree with your jokes. Men that believe women have too many rights. Men that believe women are too dumb to have the right to vote. There are still men who believe that I should thank god for my large ******* as my husband will be happy. As if they were created for my husband's pleasure. Men that believe my ****** should also belong to my husband. And that I should take cat calls as compliments because hey "that guy wants to sleep with me." There are even men out there that believe I shouldnt be talking public speaking classes and should be spending my time in home ec because we all know "a woman's place is the kitchen." And that I shouldn't be pursuing a law degree when all I really want is an MRS. Well I believe a woman's place is in the "house" and the Senate. And I used to think you were there fighting beside me, not across from me. Now- you're egging on the movement to take my rights away. That's why your sexist jokes aren't funny.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
Your Sexist Jokes Arent Funny Because...
The Marshmallows decided to have a top Party Dressed gaily in white, pink, red, green and yellow They mingled and floated around looking arty-farty We're going to dance in town not partying in a garage And guess what, We won't invite Toffee he's not like us Go melt and burn says Toffee with rightful disdain who wants to party with a bunch of soft silly buffoons Overblown and presumptuous you lot melt in the rain Nothing to you all but egging and hot air you poltroon Who wants to dance with mixed up softies with no brains I am Toffee hot and hard and always ready for the bite You can't lick me in a hurry and I take a while to crack I am brown with brawn and brains and ready to fight Got rhythm with the moves, tastes and flavours top whack Not some boring twirls or stumps gathered together tight Come try me if you dare and see me squash you down flat I'll go into you hard your softness yielding like knife on butter Can marsh you with my strength till you're nothing but mellow Or stick to your puffy wooly state and squeeze you still flatter Till you beg and squeal your surrender showing you're shallow I am not like you and don't think, see, look or taste like you I am brown and sweet, hard and chewy and I really don't care For emulsified vain brainless no substance marshmallow tools Who can only be brave and big when all packed together like So go party and kid yourselves softies I don't party with fools
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Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
I'll Marsh You ..
i. caren forgot about her morning.  caren forgot it was wednesday.  caren had an event and she was not there. caren is a shadow.  caren is an absence of space.  caren is a gap that people shy away from, women in black dresses sidestepping past her memory. caren is a woman with a streetcar.  caren is a woman with an office job.  caren is a woman with a social network.  caren goes to functions.  caren is no longer a function, but a product of her own actions. caren forgot herself. ii. shattered windshields. broken glass like triangle teeth. more monsters lurk in mirrors than in the recesses of the closet.  behemoths wait by water coolers, demons sit in sweaty three-by-fours.  the devil wears a motorcycle helmet and caren hasn't learned from her mistakes. iii. run a red light.  it's december and she's egging on the new year.  frosted features and blinkers hide hot flashes.  she's impatient for her age, a businesswoman at her best.   a shift in gear. a change in mood.  road rage, road rash.  a few words from a dark knight on a whinnying bike. iv. lane changes and unintentional nudges. motorcycle launches the devil like a dove to heaven. caren stays earthbound, blood spilled to nourish the ground.  fertilizer runs through her veins, and vampire trees in city parks drink it up. bystanders drink it up. v. caren is a casualty.  caren is the victim of her own habits. caren is a corpse in a coffin. caren is an elephant in the viewing room.   caren is to blame in eyes and minds. caren is condemned in whispers, but caren is lamented out loud, so caren is proud. caren got **** done.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
sinner
i. caren forgot about her morning.  caren forgot it was wednesday.  caren had an event and she was not there. caren is a shadow.  caren is an absence of space.  caren is a gap that people shy away from, women in black dresses sidestepping past her memory. caren is a woman with a streetcar.  caren is a woman with an office job.  caren is a woman with a social network.  caren goes to functions.  caren is no longer a function, but a product of her own actions. caren forgot herself. ii. shattered windshields. broken glass like triangle teeth. more monsters lurk in mirrors than in the recesses of the closet.  behemoths wait by water coolers, demons sit in sweaty three-by-fours.  the devil wears a motorcycle helmet and caren hasn't learned from her mistakes. iii. run a red light.  it's december and she's egging on the new year.  frosted features and blinkers hide hot flashes.  she's impatient for her age, a businesswoman at her best.   a shift in gear. a change in mood.  road rage, road rash.  a few words from a dark knight on a whinnying bike. iv. lane changes and unintentional nudges. motorcycle launches the devil like a dove to heaven. caren stays earthbound, blood spilled to nourish the ground.  fertilizer runs through her veins, and vampire trees in city parks drink it up. bystanders drink it up. v. caren is a casualty.  caren is the victim of her own habits. caren is a corpse in a coffin. caren is an elephant in the viewing room.   caren is to blame in eyes and minds. caren is condemned in whispers, but caren is lamented out loud, so caren is proud. caren got **** done.
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17
all these words and I cannot form a single sentence about you and me it’s like you are forbidden fruit the apple I so violently want to grab the devil is egging me on when there is a greater force begging me to recoil you know I thought I had ruined it You know ruined you But you never forgot how to love me And when I love you slipped out of my mouth that night you said it right back
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Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
this forbidden fruit
He is only visible to me. Projecting himself through my eyes, a stain on my retina, he is forever here. Conjured up by a child’s mind, native, inescapable fears, he has grown with me. Bigger, taller, stronger. Hidden in the deepest shadows, eyes bright, haunting me. Chilly arms engulf me, crushing my lungs and I can’t breathe and my heart races and I can’t do a thing. Egging me on, You can do it, you need to do it. He knows I will. He knows I must, but I don’t want to. I pull back, clawing at his hands Let me go! The tips of his fingers burn into my back, perfect little circles swirling with lines that lead me down towards the place I dread most. I see the looming door. Simple, wooden, warped with age, swinging, squealing on its hinges. I wonder how many secrets it has witnessed and heard over the years. Passed from one eardrum to another. Making hearts thud at the anticipation. The door to my demise. All else falls away. What can I do now but take another step forward?
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Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
My Own Boogeyman
Speak Power to Truth, but watch out for Lie Poem 3/01/2014 Sometimes we are afraid to speak Truth to Power. Have you ever heard that phrase uttered by some token card pushing sack of potatoes? I want to know : Who are these Truth and Power characters? Why are we afraid to speak with them? Fear not, I'll break it down, I met Truth in 8th grade, watched friends steal candy from a store, then they shouted, "Wynn go take some more." Egging on persistent - I couldn't ignore. I snuck the snack in to my pocket, pretended I dropped it. left enough change on the counter to pay for my friends and more, high hived my friend Truth as I walked out the door. I met Power high up in a tower of offices. That's right, Power is a bureaucrat who stamps a time clock. Every single weekday, as a weak single, like you and me, maybe. Power worked for my university signed my paychecks, and didn't like me at all. Power threw a power trip, extorted, blackmailed me and all, I got was secret meetings behind closed doors, Power threw me out said Wynn we don't need you anymore. I met Truth a 2nd time when I fell in love and had Truth tell me, Wynn admit it, this isn't the stranger you've been dreaming of. But I didn't follow Truth's advice, Instead I listened to Lie, and continued to suffer until emotionally I wanted to die. Lie, is another character you will tend to get involved with. Each day in a mirror Lie reviews your clothes, whispers in your ear you should starve, need to become beautiful, to lose weight, and change french fries for grapes. Lie wears a funny suit and shows up at your door, will try to sell you **** on silver platters, as if you needed anymore, Power came again to me, at a protest in the mall, said freeze, put your hands in the air, don't move, stay where you are. Power wields handcuffs, forged from metal, emotions, or money. Power is tall and attractive. Can be so friendly, sweet like honey. Power is secretly a business partner of everyone in your life. Power will be there for those who afford to buy its might. Lie is the friend who your parents say you should kick out of your house, but instead you awkwardly end up inviting to dinner. Lie timed their visit strategically. To dine at your table for free. (Lie doesn't identify with gender pronouns by the way). So speak Power to Truth, but watch out for Lie, because Truth needs Power most, and Lie will try to hide, not caring for reasons why.
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
Speak Power to Truth, but watch out for Lie
Speak Power to Truth, but watch out for Lie Poem 3/01/2014 Sometimes we are afraid to speak Truth to Power. Have you ever heard that phrase uttered by some token card pushing sack of potatoes? I want to know : Who are these Truth and Power characters? Why are we afraid to speak with them? Fear not, I'll break it down, I met Truth in 8th grade, watched friends steal candy from a store, then they shouted, "Wynn go take some more." Egging on persistent - I couldn't ignore. I snuck the snack in to my pocket, pretended I dropped it. left enough change on the counter to pay for my friends and more, high hived my friend Truth as I walked out the door. I met Power high up in a tower of offices. That's right, Power is a bureaucrat who stamps a time clock. Every single weekday, as a weak single, like you and me, maybe. Power worked for my university signed my paychecks, and didn't like me at all. Power threw a power trip, extorted, blackmailed me and all, I got was secret meetings behind closed doors, Power threw me out said Wynn we don't need you anymore. I met Truth a 2nd time when I fell in love and had Truth tell me, Wynn admit it, this isn't the stranger you've been dreaming of. But I didn't follow Truth's advice, Instead I listened to Lie, and continued to suffer until emotionally I wanted to die. Lie, is another character you will tend to get involved with. Each day in a mirror Lie reviews your clothes, whispers in your ear you should starve, need to become beautiful, to lose weight, and change french fries for grapes. Lie wears a funny suit and shows up at your door, will try to sell you **** on silver platters, as if you needed anymore, Power came again to me, at a protest in the mall, said freeze, put your hands in the air, don't move, stay where you are. Power wields handcuffs, forged from metal, emotions, or money. Power is tall and attractive. Can be so friendly, sweet like honey. Power is secretly a business partner of everyone in your life. Power will be there for those who afford to buy its might. Lie is the friend who your parents say you should kick out of your house, but instead you awkwardly end up inviting to dinner. Lie timed their visit strategically. To dine at your table for free. (Lie doesn't identify with gender pronouns by the way). So speak Power to Truth, but watch out for Lie, because Truth needs Power most, and Lie will try to hide, not caring for reasons why.
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66
The eyes are there again egging for inspection. Look me in the face and lose your muse discretion. The weight it bears ill prepared to flow without repression. To know there is a place where the lion sleeps moans and mimes the holes, they blind. Not a thing in mind......... Get out of my mind. Out of my mind something I force.... farce..... Faust...
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Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 10:24 PM UTC
ICU
I see the wetness glistening from your slim body. You have been away from me too long. My memory of your sweetness needs no egging on. I can not wait much longer, we need to be alone. You know just what I hunger. You sparkle in your ways. You know just how to control the rythem. A little give and take. You fit so perfect in my hand, made just for me. Come a little closer, stop teasing me. My lips are so close to you, your sweetness I am about to taste. Man there is nothing on this earth like a cold beer at the end of the day!
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Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
You Complete Me
The truth about my recovery? I lied I told the truth I was better. So much better a different person truly, really, not the me that was dying to die a year previous. for six years the monsters consumed me It starts so subtle. She’s skinnier. ‘No I’m on a diet’ ‘I’m a size 0’ your best friend skips lunches. slowly, surely, the monster slips into your head. your nightmares are living compulsions start. too young. don’t eat in front of people. one granola bar will get you through practice until home. and all the comments egging you on. ‘you aren’t skinny enough for that..’ ‘but if you eat salad all summer’ Soon you can’t look at yourself. Soon the Monster of self hatred turns you to more because the diets aren’t enough so spring break after a bowl of corn chips you close the bathroom door and the porcelain becomes your ally. friends may know. but you can be sneaky. after all, how else would you manage your size? Eventually it isn’t enough, you want quicker results. And the monsters of self hatred are eating you up. you’ve grown now of course. pushed away friends who knew who wanted you to get help. Because this Monster, This darkness in your mind, your only friend. No more food. leave crumbs and a buttered kife. anything eaten, behind the bathroom door. And very soon The blades come out to play. So intriguing how easy it is. and how simple to hide. What an easy release. 17 and 110 lbs, covered in scars on her hips. I did get help. I went to therapy. I loved it. I didn’t just change these acts I changed myself. But I wasn’t better, I was anxious to be done with it to be set free. So I stopped going. when I wasn't totally ready. I thought I was happy.. But is that why I relapsed? It was only once. But is that why I still find myself depressed? Sometimes suicidal? Is it my fault? It’s usually my fault so I can see how it would be. I lied. That’s the truth. And *I Don’t Know.* But I do know this recovery is a continuous fight. And I just wonder Where am I now?
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Where Am I
The truth about my recovery? I lied I told the truth I was better. So much better a different person truly, really, not the me that was dying to die a year previous. for six years the monsters consumed me It starts so subtle. She’s skinnier. ‘No I’m on a diet’ ‘I’m a size 0’ your best friend skips lunches. slowly, surely, the monster slips into your head. your nightmares are living compulsions start. too young. don’t eat in front of people. one granola bar will get you through practice until home. and all the comments egging you on. ‘you aren’t skinny enough for that..’ ‘but if you eat salad all summer’ Soon you can’t look at yourself. Soon the Monster of self hatred turns you to more because the diets aren’t enough so spring break after a bowl of corn chips you close the bathroom door and the porcelain becomes your ally. friends may know. but you can be sneaky. after all, how else would you manage your size? Eventually it isn’t enough, you want quicker results. And the monsters of self hatred are eating you up. you’ve grown now of course. pushed away friends who knew who wanted you to get help. Because this Monster, This darkness in your mind, your only friend. No more food. leave crumbs and a buttered kife. anything eaten, behind the bathroom door. And very soon The blades come out to play. So intriguing how easy it is. and how simple to hide. What an easy release. 17 and 110 lbs, covered in scars on her hips. I did get help. I went to therapy. I loved it. I didn’t just change these acts I changed myself. But I wasn’t better, I was anxious to be done with it to be set free. So I stopped going. when I wasn't totally ready. I thought I was happy.. But is that why I relapsed? It was only once. But is that why I still find myself depressed? Sometimes suicidal? Is it my fault? It’s usually my fault so I can see how it would be. I lied. That’s the truth. And *I Don’t Know.* But I do know this recovery is a continuous fight. And I just wonder Where am I now?
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74
blast off high as a kite unsure of how the words are being put here as I speak fungi gots my fingers tapping on the keys puffing green keeps away the demons in me while I listen to some Beats Antiques through some Dr. Dre Beats am I awake or am i asleep? Questions keep egging me and back to reality I'll creep
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
Thai cubensis
Crowds gathered and the noise of disobedience shook the neighbourhood whole. I was in the southern part of the city, where sinners sinned and the practitioners groomed the bars and off licenses solely to quench their thirst for liquor. It was almost midnight and hordes of young and old alike chanted and sung merry making song that rang through city; and what a noise it was. And it was on this night I met a lad who dressed as if the night belonged to him. A tall, slender fellow who hadn’t a care in the world. His Caribbean afro would bob up and down as we giggled to anecdotal stories of the past. We were rebels of the night, breaking away from the fragile unity that was the friendship circle. A few stragglers in the form of Chavs had joined. Many of them formed bonds with the pretty girls, rivalling us out in the end. Deciding momentarily on what our next plan was, we split away from the group and continued midnight drinking into the Holy Lands. We could hear the barking of neighbourhood dogs tangle with the distant explosions of fireworks in the sky. It was beautifully chaotic. But as midnight sinners it was like music to our ears. “I’m off mate, take care of yourself.” The fellow said as he guzzled his last remainder of his bottled Budweiser. “You heading home, aye?” I smirked, clearly egging him on to stay out just a tad longer. But, this was to be it. With a hug and a good luck, he was off, towards the mystic backstreets and towards the Ormeau Road. I never caught the young lad’s name, nor did I ever catch his age. It was a strange meeting between the two of us. As if, for one singular night we knew everything about each other yet knew nothing at all. I recall sitting back down on the sidewalk and smiling, before looking up towards the decorative sparkly night sky. And, what turned out to be a spontaneous and random night ended up as a completed final chapter, to a superb little story.
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 8:06 AM UTC
St Patrick's Day '14
Crowds gathered and the noise of disobedience shook the neighbourhood whole. I was in the southern part of the city, where sinners sinned and the practitioners groomed the bars and off licenses solely to quench their thirst for liquor. It was almost midnight and hordes of young and old alike chanted and sung merry making song that rang through city; and what a noise it was. And it was on this night I met a lad who dressed as if the night belonged to him. A tall, slender fellow who hadn’t a care in the world. His Caribbean afro would bob up and down as we giggled to anecdotal stories of the past. We were rebels of the night, breaking away from the fragile unity that was the friendship circle. A few stragglers in the form of Chavs had joined. Many of them formed bonds with the pretty girls, rivalling us out in the end. Deciding momentarily on what our next plan was, we split away from the group and continued midnight drinking into the Holy Lands. We could hear the barking of neighbourhood dogs tangle with the distant explosions of fireworks in the sky. It was beautifully chaotic. But as midnight sinners it was like music to our ears. “I’m off mate, take care of yourself.” The fellow said as he guzzled his last remainder of his bottled Budweiser. “You heading home, aye?” I smirked, clearly egging him on to stay out just a tad longer. But, this was to be it. With a hug and a good luck, he was off, towards the mystic backstreets and towards the Ormeau Road. I never caught the young lad’s name, nor did I ever catch his age. It was a strange meeting between the two of us. As if, for one singular night we knew everything about each other yet knew nothing at all. I recall sitting back down on the sidewalk and smiling, before looking up towards the decorative sparkly night sky. And, what turned out to be a spontaneous and random night ended up as a completed final chapter, to a superb little story.
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4
it makes its entrance in flashy fogs, the selfish hog of undesired credibility, the crushing weight of "cool." it's so like the fragile strength of the rain, burning on your skin, yearning to slip in to something a little more casual, a little more ****** hexual textual we flirt in codes we glance in nods we feel in rhythms we speak in silence, we dance together with the thrusts and sways of our bony little hips, feeling and inspecting one another though never looking upon either face. it was so real yet so fake, plastic kisses and the taste of regret, the sterile defilement of a hotel bed, your **** in my mouth, your ***** on my chin, your hand on my head and my insecurity's egging me on, whispering the truths that often try to hide within the narrow little alleyways of my tiny little head, "it is too late to save yourself," "you were never clean anyway," "heaven is a lie," "you have no say." I choke on your **** you tell me to shut up, you slap both my cheeks and you tell me to grow up. it all pushes me down so hard, so strong, so discouragingly, so relentless in its intent like the gentle power of the rain, the bursting burning on my skin, the heaviness of unnecessaries. I make my exits in flashy fogs, I am a magician, a wizard, a ghost and a demon. I am a legend, a fable, a story with no end, lost to the cities full of ancient histories and ruined worlds and patterns of the Earth forgotten; I am woven into the rich and tangled workings of the world forgotten.
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
deep inside
it makes its entrance in flashy fogs, the selfish hog of undesired credibility, the crushing weight of "cool." it's so like the fragile strength of the rain, burning on your skin, yearning to slip in to something a little more casual, a little more ****** hexual textual we flirt in codes we glance in nods we feel in rhythms we speak in silence, we dance together with the thrusts and sways of our bony little hips, feeling and inspecting one another though never looking upon either face. it was so real yet so fake, plastic kisses and the taste of regret, the sterile defilement of a hotel bed, your **** in my mouth, your ***** on my chin, your hand on my head and my insecurity's egging me on, whispering the truths that often try to hide within the narrow little alleyways of my tiny little head, "it is too late to save yourself," "you were never clean anyway," "heaven is a lie," "you have no say." I choke on your **** you tell me to shut up, you slap both my cheeks and you tell me to grow up. it all pushes me down so hard, so strong, so discouragingly, so relentless in its intent like the gentle power of the rain, the bursting burning on my skin, the heaviness of unnecessaries. I make my exits in flashy fogs, I am a magician, a wizard, a ghost and a demon. I am a legend, a fable, a story with no end, lost to the cities full of ancient histories and ruined worlds and patterns of the Earth forgotten; I am woven into the rich and tangled workings of the world forgotten.
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56
and often nights? i - i’ll have no trouble it’s the screens that do me in. the fallen angel the lithesome, spent glow of do-overs it just does me in. i am too possessed by mercurial vapor a dead self at 2 and 3 and 4am egging on, asking “keep looking? it’s somewhere in the archives. it has to be.” i promised, i promised i wouldn’t, i promised or I’d spend months years, decades of life living in the guesswork the in-betweens lying in the pathways between the thought and the reflex. i could scroll a whole lifetime away in wanting. it’s the screens that do me in.
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
screens I
Sitting watching the winds dance through bare ***** trees, their branches swaying methodically The leaves twirling in graceful loops down through the stubborn branches getting caught on the jutting appendages Lands with a soft pat on the dried grass below, flicking into a comfortable position, nestling into the leaves A mourning dove cooing in soft burbles of sounds intermingling with the cry of calling crows A woodpeckers tap-tap-tapping up the trees and flitting through the browned leaves their strangled songs ringing The hawk circling lazily above the treetops with wings outstretched in a long line, undisturbed and smooth A squirrel scuttles through the leaf litter and digs a home for the nut it holds in its quivering mouth, front paws scurrying The family of turkeys cluck a quiet conversation to and fro with feathers ruffled from the chill wind That wind carries the promise of winter in its icy clutches with the scent of polar clear in its currents My reddened cheeks tingling from the sun warming them out of their frozen stupor, egging them from the shock The sunlight dimples across the perfectly fitted leaves littering the forest floor below me, dappled from the shadows Fuzzy grey outlines pattern the weeds lining the bases of trees, the stick thin traces of branches divide and crack The air is coloured with a warmth undescribed, brown and red and orange licking the edges of everything like flame You can almost taste the seasoning of fall mixed with the oxygen, spiced like pumpkin and cinnamon sticks Rough bark crackles beneath my curious fingers, tips brushing flaking tree, the very skin that holds in the feelings (sap) Blue sky peeks between fluffed clouds fresh from the dryer with the sheets still mixed with them Pink veins behind closed eyelids faced towards the orb of light in the sky that heats the ozone around the earth Autumn eating fire surrounds the people too oblivious to notice this indescribable beauty.
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
The Mornings of autumn eating fire
Sitting watching the winds dance through bare ***** trees, their branches swaying methodically The leaves twirling in graceful loops down through the stubborn branches getting caught on the jutting appendages Lands with a soft pat on the dried grass below, flicking into a comfortable position, nestling into the leaves A mourning dove cooing in soft burbles of sounds intermingling with the cry of calling crows A woodpeckers tap-tap-tapping up the trees and flitting through the browned leaves their strangled songs ringing The hawk circling lazily above the treetops with wings outstretched in a long line, undisturbed and smooth A squirrel scuttles through the leaf litter and digs a home for the nut it holds in its quivering mouth, front paws scurrying The family of turkeys cluck a quiet conversation to and fro with feathers ruffled from the chill wind That wind carries the promise of winter in its icy clutches with the scent of polar clear in its currents My reddened cheeks tingling from the sun warming them out of their frozen stupor, egging them from the shock The sunlight dimples across the perfectly fitted leaves littering the forest floor below me, dappled from the shadows Fuzzy grey outlines pattern the weeds lining the bases of trees, the stick thin traces of branches divide and crack The air is coloured with a warmth undescribed, brown and red and orange licking the edges of everything like flame You can almost taste the seasoning of fall mixed with the oxygen, spiced like pumpkin and cinnamon sticks Rough bark crackles beneath my curious fingers, tips brushing flaking tree, the very skin that holds in the feelings (sap) Blue sky peeks between fluffed clouds fresh from the dryer with the sheets still mixed with them Pink veins behind closed eyelids faced towards the orb of light in the sky that heats the ozone around the earth Autumn eating fire surrounds the people too oblivious to notice this indescribable beauty.
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18
and I still get very nostalgic about the first boy I kissed and the tentacles of it not light and fluffy at all he was my best friend and I get very alarmed by this life and how short it can fall he used to say that "nobody gets me like you do." but I didnt know who he was I still dont know who or what is behind that cloak of darkness what real stories are behind that bookshelf and it was alarming and scary and DANGEROUS and thats how I feel but who's to know what I feel because I like it that way you'll never know whats on my heart on my mind, on my mind, on my mind running in loops because it's ****** alarming, and scary and DANGEROUS its what makes me do what I do lately on your computer The urge to violate the trust because I am suddanly fearful that the boy that I love is doing what I said he could because I wanted your love I still need it and here I am moving in with you and it's racing in my mind where's Sonia gonna sleep? WHERE'S SONIA GONNA SLEEP? In our bed? no, your bed but in my head its OUR bed the one in which I CAN ALWAYS FIND SLEEP and its killing me inside because I said you could because I wanted you to and I've always been like that freedom freedom to those I LOVE! but I'm crippled when I'm with you my mind and logic are lopsided because I'm in LOVE WITH YOU and it hurts! I'm FAIR and RIGHTOUS and BALANCED but it's like you walked on into there and you hold and grasp and the tables become violently upturned and the vases all break shards of glass and water is EVERYWHERE EMBEDED in my memory in the walls of my beating heart and the glass is carried throughout my blood vessels and I'm PRAYING, PRAYING, PRAYING Oh god AM I PRAYING that a little peice should find its way to a major artery and do me in there! put an end to my painful existence in your sweet and tender arms but then WAIT! STOP! I'M IN LOVE! AND I LIKE IT HERE! PLEASE DONT **** ME! So that I dont feel an ounce of pain before it hits me like a rock ****** from my heart down to my GUTS ITS A MERCY KILLING! Have MERCY on my heart! ITS TENDER! BEHIND ITS FAIR, RIGHTOUS WALLS IT'S SENT CHAOTIC DISTURBED BY HOW DEEPLY IT FEELS HOW DEEPLY IT CONNECTS AND HOW DEEPLY YOU REACH ME THERE! MAKE IT STOP BEFORE I MYSELF AM SENT INTO SHARDS MY PSYCHE IN SUTURES I DONT LET MYSELF HURT I GO STRAIGHT TO SCAR TISSUE Because I made an OATH to myself to NEVER GO BACK THERE AGAIN!!! but your healing touch is egging me on reaching me slowly and its killing me with feathery kiss so kiss her so make love to her and I will struggle with the fact that I know as a Christian God would know that I am special to you that I am yours that nobody will replace me as you yourself have said with words and soul parts and intimate parts because I value your freedom in the way you value mine in the way that lights me up and sets me free but still I will loose my senses because thats the first sign that I've allowed myself to feel to be in love with you
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
Chaos in my heart
and I still get very nostalgic about the first boy I kissed and the tentacles of it not light and fluffy at all he was my best friend and I get very alarmed by this life and how short it can fall he used to say that "nobody gets me like you do." but I didnt know who he was I still dont know who or what is behind that cloak of darkness what real stories are behind that bookshelf and it was alarming and scary and DANGEROUS and thats how I feel but who's to know what I feel because I like it that way you'll never know whats on my heart on my mind, on my mind, on my mind running in loops because it's ****** alarming, and scary and DANGEROUS its what makes me do what I do lately on your computer The urge to violate the trust because I am suddanly fearful that the boy that I love is doing what I said he could because I wanted your love I still need it and here I am moving in with you and it's racing in my mind where's Sonia gonna sleep? WHERE'S SONIA GONNA SLEEP? In our bed? no, your bed but in my head its OUR bed the one in which I CAN ALWAYS FIND SLEEP and its killing me inside because I said you could because I wanted you to and I've always been like that freedom freedom to those I LOVE! but I'm crippled when I'm with you my mind and logic are lopsided because I'm in LOVE WITH YOU and it hurts! I'm FAIR and RIGHTOUS and BALANCED but it's like you walked on into there and you hold and grasp and the tables become violently upturned and the vases all break shards of glass and water is EVERYWHERE EMBEDED in my memory in the walls of my beating heart and the glass is carried throughout my blood vessels and I'm PRAYING, PRAYING, PRAYING Oh god AM I PRAYING that a little peice should find its way to a major artery and do me in there! put an end to my painful existence in your sweet and tender arms but then WAIT! STOP! I'M IN LOVE! AND I LIKE IT HERE! PLEASE DONT **** ME! So that I dont feel an ounce of pain before it hits me like a rock ****** from my heart down to my GUTS ITS A MERCY KILLING! Have MERCY on my heart! ITS TENDER! BEHIND ITS FAIR, RIGHTOUS WALLS IT'S SENT CHAOTIC DISTURBED BY HOW DEEPLY IT FEELS HOW DEEPLY IT CONNECTS AND HOW DEEPLY YOU REACH ME THERE! MAKE IT STOP BEFORE I MYSELF AM SENT INTO SHARDS MY PSYCHE IN SUTURES I DONT LET MYSELF HURT I GO STRAIGHT TO SCAR TISSUE Because I made an OATH to myself to NEVER GO BACK THERE AGAIN!!! but your healing touch is egging me on reaching me slowly and its killing me with feathery kiss so kiss her so make love to her and I will struggle with the fact that I know as a Christian God would know that I am special to you that I am yours that nobody will replace me as you yourself have said with words and soul parts and intimate parts because I value your freedom in the way you value mine in the way that lights me up and sets me free but still I will loose my senses because thats the first sign that I've allowed myself to feel to be in love with you
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104
My end is so near, yet I feel no fear. I lay there in soft bed of white clouds, Above all that used to be my life. From the towering heights, my worries, my whims and my wants, felt so minuscule and trivial. But what glitters are the bread crumbs that I laid along the path of life. The fleeting moments that shaped me, those failures that made me, those friends always beside me, Egging me to reach where I wanted to be. For now when my mind is weak and my body frail, what remains are the bread crumbs    that I leave along the trails.
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Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 5:16 AM UTC
Bread crumbs
Sitting there staring at me I can see the hunger in your eyes. Your mind wandering to pleasure. You wanted me I could tell. I look down and see you grow. I smile wide and start to tease you. I put my hand on your thick hardness. Then get an bright idea. I call a friend so we could all play. She comes in and your eyes grow wide. Me and her slowly walk over to you. You beg for attention. We unzipped you pants. I take your **** and put it in my mouth, She take it and gives it a nice message. You moan not believing it was happening. You no longer can stand the teasing. You push me down and ground your self in. You take it out and slowly put it back in, Making me enjoy every inch. You go so deep making me scream. You unload, and shudder. its her turn now. She sits there waiting. You walk over to her and push her down. You put your throbbing **** in her mouth She licks it making you groan Time for the fun. You ground yourself within And **** so hard. She whimpers. And you unload. You bring me over. And put your face in my hot wet ***** You lick you **** making me beg for more. You fingers **** so hard. I wrap my legs around your waist. You shove in hard making me scream in pleasure. You **** so hard my nails leave trails on your back, Egging you on to do more. You *** inside me and roll off. She gets on top and lays down. I snuggle closer and you put your arms around me. Your wildest dream come true.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Naughty ********* (yes its THAT kind of poem)
"It was pride that made angels into devils. Humility makes men into angels." Well, then, Saint Augustine... what happens when men are prideful? For if this curse can transform something as pure, genuine, serene even, into evil incarnate, what hope do mere mortals have? How do we combat this inner demon, whispering in our ear, stroking our egos, egging on vanities and successes, when all we try to do is belong. To validate our existence. To prove our worth. To be able to point to something and say "Hey, look what I can do, all my hard work paid off." While that's all well in good, how can we safely toe the line between having this pride and motivation, without becoming consumed in the fire?
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC
Pride
I want you and you turn away like the earth itself rotating to get itself away from the sun. I know I'm not the source of life on your planet but I need you and you scoff and chuckle. That scoff, a body flying off a motorcycle the sound of skin being ripped away by the hard embrace of the concrete. I hear it slide to a stop against the telephone pole. that ******* chuckle, the sound of all the ribs breaking and stabbing into the heart but I know you. This sick ******* game you play. Egging me to react a horse under the whip. Come on, buck up, kick, bite, raise high your front quarters and strike me down. I'll only brand you again with shame and horror. I can see that look on your face you are guiltless and amused. But I can't now, I can't repeat this pattern. You want me to lung at you in rage and lust. Not this time. Not hunched over the counter Not knowing it'll repeat itself in a week. Hearing my name and obscenities with that ***** smile on your face. Not this time. You only love the worst in me. You love it when I draw blood, and break memories, and scream, and shatter all the dishes, that you begged me to keep safe just hours ago. You get that look that look cats get beating mice to death. Amusement. You get that look that happy look dogs get when they bring home a dead pigeon for us to eat. Misunderstanding. You get that look that look the devil gets when he hears an infant crying out helpless in sheer terror. Satisfaction.
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Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Those Looks
I try to quell my fear As the keys jingle in my hand It's just a drive to the metro station A drive that was completely unplanned I slide into the drivers seat Seat belt on, keys in the ignition 'I can do this' I think This is, to the roads, my initiation My father sits besides me He's at his absolute calmest My sister sits with a steeled expression As if bracing for a raging tempest I enter onto the main road With a bit of a **** we're on our way I shift to third and start to relax Today is going to be good day Just as my confidence grows, We encounter a little bit of traffic Back to second gear, we go Oops, I just ran over a brick! With papa's advice egging me on We continue our journey A formidable flyover looms before us I tell myself to not be jittery We enter a sea of slow moving cars I'm just praying I don't stall But alas! I do. Quickly, lets go! I don't want to be honked at by all I know an underpass will come next Its just another hurdle to cross I clutch the steering wheel tightly Can I really do this? I'm at a loss I try to suggest a different route My father shoots down that idea Failure is not an option Message received loud and clear. I pass the underpass without a hitch My destination is on the left Indicator, shoulder, switch lanes and stop In a movement which I hope was deft. I turn off the car and put the handbrake up I did it! Hip hip Hurray! I grin as I stand and watch The car I drove drive away
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
First Drive
By Arcassin B & Icy AB :We just need create a sday where all teens could serve their generation well, And their God as well, Egging to get a reply, When you send text messages, Or telling your childhood girlfriend a shocking confession, Making ways to make up that sudden mistake, The man up stairs on the 50 thousandth floor will understand, He is the boss and you are the employee, All getting to be employee of the month, And while you're out mashing cars and smoking **** The bible comes up front, Just pass it along, You got to be strong, This is not a fantasy like Edward and Bella, This is reality, All your priorities are wrong, Find peace. Icy :They say life is like a dream, but know life is a nightmare. We search for these things to make us happy, going along acting like things are fine, but people see through to the real you. This generation filled with suicide thoughts, and minds unkind. No one sees who is truly there, to catch you when you fall... Get on your knees and get your mind outta the clouds, maybe your eyes will see clearly now... Look up to the heavens and shout as loud as you want, find peace, find love, and find forgiveness... Make this world a better place, and get real, stop living your online fantasy, and start living life the way it should be.
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May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
"Sabbath" (collab w/ IcySky~)
Cast against the grain of all things wandering the earth from small town to hamlet to big city dreaming gleaming every small ounce of life fought desperately over magpies chasing shiny glints in the darkness Each piece of ground earned a victory go with the sun on your back in the morning and in your face at the end of the day Westward like pioneers of old and if there’s no new ground to find we will make some for ourselves so that our dreaming heads might have a leg to stand on It’s just the way she goes Lady Luck is up there laughing at me as I crawl on my belly from place to place lusting after her touch my Goddess wearing gypsy shawls and no shoes egging me on another step towards the last
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Lady Luck