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"emasculate" poems
Dear men, You are not emasculated when you are gentle to a woman. You are not emasculated when you can't control your child's behaviour You are not emasculated when you get a vasectomy done You are not emasculated when you stand up for a woman, no matter how old she is. You are not emasculated when you support gender equality. You are not emasculated when you choose to not drink and drive You are not emasculated when your lifestyle choices are different from that of your friends. I am a feminist who believes that man and woman have equal roles in the society. If you think women are weaker,  I fail to comprehend you and I m not going to waste my time explaining you the basics of how to be peaceful and respecting one another. Sincerely, Someone who wants a change, and is doing their part in it.
0
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 2:27 PM UTC
emasculate
The Iron Horse can still saddle this Coach, Whose Extract nourishes the Children he trains: One the Golden Girl; The Other a Hodge, Transpose to the Miracle-Boy remains Two-Scores-and-Four his Dedication baits, Like Tunes based to emasculate them both Here in the Pillow-Jungle Success does wait Bending limbs into Sport; Then promotes their Growth What Circus! Said the Lame Artist envine Yet in Prayer begs him to join the Fray He looked at his Pearls; And saw that they Shine Which, suspend, trained his Boon-Dogs to obey. Hence, to Devotion his Shoes retire Partner and Career; In Big Thanks suspire.
0
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: ANDY BANKS
Emasculate Feud, take his ******* and ***** so that you can travel the Jungian road of unicorns, rainbows, and pixies with no ****** Uncle Al Crowley he died deranged like you- -your very existence. --Out of context-- like your quote of James Madison: To fulfill your nihilist message of hope without a ****** Freud who knew you all to well, needs no ***** or ******* to think, unlike you. © S. Wesley Mcgranor
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
A Feminists Ode
Welcome Sorrow no need to seek forgiveness for not knowing me by name i've waited long and lonely to feel the touch of such desolate company tell me then are you here to show me all of my tomorrows reflected in a deep pool of tears from yesteryears show me that i can be a lover but can never be loved show me that i'll still be here but never will i belong that these are not my people these are talents to which i'll never possess so stop whispering stop whispering come closer my friend show me that nothing exists over those grey foreboding hills show me that nothing survives at the end of a fractured rainbow show me that the rivers and oceans are but a flow of tiny tears show me that all the dawns and the dusk of this world to you belong show me that the only peace to be found is in a black dogs stare come now my confidante wrap me in your arms so tightly once more let me see through your eyes feel through your veins   speak through your wisdom emasculate in your reign but go now my lover my temptress go place these words so delicately on your parched and wretched tongue from a kiss to a whisper to a shattering scream that this is my goodbye this is my goodbye that this is to be Your final Goodbye
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Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
Sorrows Last Goodbye
to take out your whole crew it only takes one call we'll see you riding solo and put yo **** against the wall trigger hammer gunshot to your head watch your dead body collapse fast and fall to the floor all sprawled paint a picture see your brain splatter I'm going crazy like the mother ****** mad hatter does it matter ha I think it does because the threats a promise on the lines made out in the plan cuz I'll creep in and silence you show you how the violent do didn't you know that calm one's always kill you (for real dude) You walk tall with your glass jaw and your liquor you're girl is so drugged up that's why she only sticks wit ya you're loud and obnoxious with a brain and breathe so toxic far from hypnotic well over neurotic and My only logic is to show you how parassitic,symbiotic, pathetic, you don't get it, your read it but you're illiterate while I spit a bit you try to make a legitimate comeback but you slack ***** don't talk back you lack the determination,education, dedication, it's amazing that you even think you're on the same level I'm a new school rebel tearing old fools like you on the heavy gettin pretty messy I'm pushing boulders while you're pushing pebbles you're nothing but a ***** like barney rubble such a tragedy.... oh wait nevermind evolution called you're just a waste of it's time you **** too many ****** and 1,2,3 an itch and a burn oh! STD!!! magically it came be you're suffering and on your knees you're screaming please while I end it with ease and you don't really know who I am assassinate, desecrate, emasculate, devistate these mother ******* need to know that I won't ever hesitate, to put em in a black hole out of existence twist em up turn em up into nothingness I'm no longer discussing this come on be my witness I'm bringin the apocalypse into this low grade ***** phaze come and take the switch before I **** em a twitch of the hand back slap come on pack clap wit ya man
0
Dec 19, 2010
Dec 19, 2010 at 10:39 AM UTC
A verse I wrote for a rapper I'm workin with
to take out your whole crew it only takes one call we'll see you riding solo and put yo **** against the wall trigger hammer gunshot to your head watch your dead body collapse fast and fall to the floor all sprawled paint a picture see your brain splatter I'm going crazy like the mother ****** mad hatter does it matter ha I think it does because the threats a promise on the lines made out in the plan cuz I'll creep in and silence you show you how the violent do didn't you know that calm one's always kill you (for real dude) You walk tall with your glass jaw and your liquor you're girl is so drugged up that's why she only sticks wit ya you're loud and obnoxious with a brain and breathe so toxic far from hypnotic well over neurotic and My only logic is to show you how parassitic,symbiotic, pathetic, you don't get it, your read it but you're illiterate while I spit a bit you try to make a legitimate comeback but you slack ***** don't talk back you lack the determination,education, dedication, it's amazing that you even think you're on the same level I'm a new school rebel tearing old fools like you on the heavy gettin pretty messy I'm pushing boulders while you're pushing pebbles you're nothing but a ***** like barney rubble such a tragedy.... oh wait nevermind evolution called you're just a waste of it's time you **** too many ****** and 1,2,3 an itch and a burn oh! STD!!! magically it came be you're suffering and on your knees you're screaming please while I end it with ease and you don't really know who I am assassinate, desecrate, emasculate, devistate these mother ******* need to know that I won't ever hesitate, to put em in a black hole out of existence twist em up turn em up into nothingness I'm no longer discussing this come on be my witness I'm bringin the apocalypse into this low grade ***** phaze come and take the switch before I **** em a twitch of the hand back slap come on pack clap wit ya man
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46
You: it is 2:10 am Me: Eastern Standard Mystical Time, yup... You: why are you up, writing? Me: the drugs wore off You: *** the drugs? Say it ain't so, kiddo?* Me: yup, I did engage with some strong stuff ce soir, the woman too, and she is drowning in her dreams. Easy and cheap, scored some us some................ Asian Fusion Thai Food, Indonesian small plates... You: idiot! Me: just answering your question You: so where is this poem, shaman? Me: You! You: Me? Me: yup. You are my early morning poem, which I have entitled Notification: You! Notification I am deeply unsure. Am I notifying you, or am I notifying myself? Lost command of my native language, the emotions too strong, Blue Java the color of my word blood, strong swirling, uncontaminated by cow's milk, but by cows jumping over the moon, who have come to give me gifts of Notifications. *Hey ****** ****** The Cat and the fiddle, The Cow jumped over the moon. The little Dog laughed, To see such sport, And the Dish ran away with the Spoon* Perfectly clear to me. I am the Spoon, You are the Dish. (Shaman, Shaman, hey man, you still sound drugged, we urgent need some clarifications!) When I wake up, uncertain about a slew, a portmanteau of important life~things, *(Example: when should I Capitalize a word, a life, a me, a You?)* there are strangers, Strangers still, yet strangers no more, sending me uncoded messages intended to decode me, Notifications, they are called, and they Explode me. capsules of comments that encapsulate me, emasculate my speaking abilities, reduced to rolling in the gutter, guttural cries to emit and utter, man, I got friends I never met, and that's ok we just notify each other thinking of you and no more words necessary life is groovy...
0
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
Notification: You!
You: it is 2:10 am Me: Eastern Standard Mystical Time, yup... You: why are you up, writing? Me: the drugs wore off You: *** the drugs? Say it ain't so, kiddo?* Me: yup, I did engage with some strong stuff ce soir, the woman too, and she is drowning in her dreams. Easy and cheap, scored some us some................ Asian Fusion Thai Food, Indonesian small plates... You: idiot! Me: just answering your question You: so where is this poem, shaman? Me: You! You: Me? Me: yup. You are my early morning poem, which I have entitled Notification: You! Notification I am deeply unsure. Am I notifying you, or am I notifying myself? Lost command of my native language, the emotions too strong, Blue Java the color of my word blood, strong swirling, uncontaminated by cow's milk, but by cows jumping over the moon, who have come to give me gifts of Notifications. *Hey ****** ****** The Cat and the fiddle, The Cow jumped over the moon. The little Dog laughed, To see such sport, And the Dish ran away with the Spoon* Perfectly clear to me. I am the Spoon, You are the Dish. (Shaman, Shaman, hey man, you still sound drugged, we urgent need some clarifications!) When I wake up, uncertain about a slew, a portmanteau of important life~things, *(Example: when should I Capitalize a word, a life, a me, a You?)* there are strangers, Strangers still, yet strangers no more, sending me uncoded messages intended to decode me, Notifications, they are called, and they Explode me. capsules of comments that encapsulate me, emasculate my speaking abilities, reduced to rolling in the gutter, guttural cries to emit and utter, man, I got friends I never met, and that's ok we just notify each other thinking of you and no more words necessary life is groovy...
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75
*A Poeme from ye Penne of ye right learned Professor Peter Buttocke collected by hysse Pupille Edna* There is an ancient Shittah in my Garden, eldritch and right dun in alle Aspect Wherein dwelleth a loude and noisome Ouzel, ye like of which I have ne'er yet seen Under thysse our goode Goddes fayre Welkin up in ye Skye above us alle. This foule and unwholesome Beeste, with trespassynge shote-like ****** Effusiones Hath performed ye veritable Antithesis of kindly horticultural Edulcoration For whiche Sinne I shall emasculate ye Brute, so God may grant me Pow'r. Sudating at ye Nostrilles I advance, my trustie Stang at ye ever-ready, And I prepare to eject it from yon Pollard, having previous shattered Alle its horryd Frangibles with one brave bolde frampold Blowe. Thwacke! A last Piffero-reminiscent Warble escapeth loude from its fowle coronoid Appendage; Right severe Damage and harsh fatal Ruine of Nature irreversible have I caused To ye shaggie shamelesse little avian Runte, whereon Goddes smile hath ne'er dawned. Thus descendeth it to the Faeces-bedecked Herdwick, and I titubate triumph'lly o'er its conticent Corpse. And were there yet a duodenary Set of ye Frass-Depositors, I would not give a Demi-Testrel for their Survyvall Should they e'er again infringe the sacred Privacie whych ye ancient Shittah enjoyeth in my Garden.
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
Ye Ouzel In My Shittah
She is saying goodbye to an old friend. Discordant telephone cord pulls itself away as mosquitoes emasculate; warm summer night. Her voice lingers in the humidity perspiration drips, slides; empty whispers. Crickets and cicadas circa 1947, running through fields at midnight riding the bike pass the gallows that was Uncle Mike's, tender breeze through hair like a mother's stroke. Shoe soles stomping cigarette buds in haste, driving through cliffs diving into continuum (then) holding out for whatever comes. No more. All is left— rustling leaves sepia tinted photographs tattered edges; reminiscences of warm summer nights retold to a child.
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Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 4:39 AM UTC
Fireflies
The intelligent observer says; 'Isn't it curious how their shrill centers round this phantom love affair' You mean the 'Pick on a **** psychos, them paid hire a hooligan mob uk racists criminals Yes, I dare say, they write chapter and verse about some one you never even kissed, some one who is just another pawn, a poor victim of circumstance. caught in a web unknown to her. Yeah, I do feel sorry for the poor thing The sad thing though with these backwards racists and their devotees....hahaha...more their victims perhaps is how hate governs minds and the psychology behind it all. It all stems from ***** Envy and fear, yes, its really as basic and simply as that. They hate you and do all these imbecilic nonsense because they really feel threatened by you. This love angle skit they play is Freudian. Your big manhood emasculate them, your standing challenges them and you reflect that, which they can never be. Do you know their greatest fear has become seeing you use that 'fearsome weapon' they know how effective it is and how they don't compare. That's why they get their jollies from manufacturing a situation and then opposing it. Creating delusions to absolve their complexes. Typical Narcissistic ****** behavior. Why are you laughing, do you know how many unfortunate black men have died because of this, ***** envy kills Hahaha...I should get a tee-shirt with that slogan on You're not taking this very serious, are you? No, I don't take things beneath CONTEMPT seriously.... Let's feel sorry for them, why should I give head space to *******
0
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
That Conversation.........
The intelligent observer says; 'Isn't it curious how their shrill centers round this phantom love affair' You mean the 'Pick on a **** psychos, them paid hire a hooligan mob uk racists criminals Yes, I dare say, they write chapter and verse about some one you never even kissed, some one who is just another pawn, a poor victim of circumstance. caught in a web unknown to her. Yeah, I do feel sorry for the poor thing The sad thing though with these backwards racists and their devotees....hahaha...more their victims perhaps is how hate governs minds and the psychology behind it all. It all stems from ***** Envy and fear, yes, its really as basic and simply as that. They hate you and do all these imbecilic nonsense because they really feel threatened by you. This love angle skit they play is Freudian. Your big manhood emasculate them, your standing challenges them and you reflect that, which they can never be. Do you know their greatest fear has become seeing you use that 'fearsome weapon' they know how effective it is and how they don't compare. That's why they get their jollies from manufacturing a situation and then opposing it. Creating delusions to absolve their complexes. Typical Narcissistic ****** behavior. Why are you laughing, do you know how many unfortunate black men have died because of this, ***** envy kills Hahaha...I should get a tee-shirt with that slogan on You're not taking this very serious, are you? No, I don't take things beneath CONTEMPT seriously.... Let's feel sorry for them, why should I give head space to *******
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32
By chance we sat close that night as the light faded, leaving that just-before-rain spirit pervading the air with nature's answer to expectations of brilliant designs soon to fill the heavens with their display of ruthless radiance fused with honor, and when the first boom crashed, then you honored the hot pursuing trail of blazing light by squealing with delight in a display of faux-female mystique while the spirits of that just-so spot atop your head, designed to muddle my mind, silently answered longings I felt when your eyes sought answers to my quick withdrawal-- No, I honor you too much to indulge secret designs-- but the fury of sound melted the light nascent in dark orbs as we tasted spirits of sulfur from the forgotten display's willful efforts to prune our own display-- happy intrusions ordained to answer pride bursting from our bodies' caged spirits-- national prompts calling, Present! Honor the ones privileged to die for the light reflected deep in the inner design of her still questioning eyes designed in palpable deference to displays emasculate now in the lessened light, overcome by the thickened smoke-answer overflowing our lungs with no honor for imagined sanctities of spirit, and then the sky tore, releasing spirits in sudden gallons naturally designed to drown mystical visions in honor of reality, the potent display inherent in terrestrial answers-- non-reflective of superior light. when introspection answers to design, when spirit surpasses worldly light, then displays of honor must burst their forms; must give way to neck-chilling encounters with an intangible, marvelous truth.
0
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC
Breathless
By chance we sat close that night as the light faded, leaving that just-before-rain spirit pervading the air with nature's answer to expectations of brilliant designs soon to fill the heavens with their display of ruthless radiance fused with honor, and when the first boom crashed, then you honored the hot pursuing trail of blazing light by squealing with delight in a display of faux-female mystique while the spirits of that just-so spot atop your head, designed to muddle my mind, silently answered longings I felt when your eyes sought answers to my quick withdrawal-- No, I honor you too much to indulge secret designs-- but the fury of sound melted the light nascent in dark orbs as we tasted spirits of sulfur from the forgotten display's willful efforts to prune our own display-- happy intrusions ordained to answer pride bursting from our bodies' caged spirits-- national prompts calling, Present! Honor the ones privileged to die for the light reflected deep in the inner design of her still questioning eyes designed in palpable deference to displays emasculate now in the lessened light, overcome by the thickened smoke-answer overflowing our lungs with no honor for imagined sanctities of spirit, and then the sky tore, releasing spirits in sudden gallons naturally designed to drown mystical visions in honor of reality, the potent display inherent in terrestrial answers-- non-reflective of superior light. when introspection answers to design, when spirit surpasses worldly light, then displays of honor must burst their forms; must give way to neck-chilling encounters with an intangible, marvelous truth.
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41
I seek a harvest of hope and bliss You reap what you sow, it is said But sow as you may, hope and bliss requires A willful soul and mindful heart where Malicious spirits abound Making the ground fallow and unworkable A vermin called dogmatism and self-righteousness Seek to emasculate a once fertile land How do we reverse this pestilence? I say hope should not despair Our union with the universe Guides our way Our reward is bliss
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Harvest
half past midnight your face becomes my hell. personal or otherwise, hell nonetheless. the beast with two backs rears its ugly sillouhette from the depth of my imagination. an encounter I never encountered. but played back on my brainwaves radio request of the unappealing monster you've become. my overrun mind needs a walk. it's metaphorical legs afire. you patronize me with empty words relieving me of nothing but the notion that good men exist. I emasculate you with my sharp tongued replies. abuse on demand, for you taught me well. long past midnight your lies become my hell.
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 1:25 AM UTC
my hell
a map scrawled in the dirt, with a broken stick held by a broken hand controlled by a broken mind being kept alive by a broken heart. It's not beautiful because it's broken (stop romanticizing my primordial urges) it's beautiful because it's the nature of it. stop romanticizing my primordial urges. I wanna hit and hurt and destroy and **** and **** and maim and desecrate and consummate end eradicate and emasculate and ********* and I wanna push you up against a wall and feel you on the inside and I wanna push her down a flight of stairs for making me feel the way I do for making my **** hard. i want you to feel this
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
you should feel this
***They say the globe is warmin Is that because I'm too hot? You better check the forecast Cause im about to blow up 180 degrees Like you just turned around Starting fires for fun Burning holes in the ground I got a magnifying glass I'll ******* light up your *** Pass the past too fast Spit on the flames as I bask As the mound turns to ash Nothing of you remains I'll stomp the earth with my boot Smearing, spreading your brain That's the only way you'll copulate Mind ******* the dirt I'll castrate you with words Emasculate with my rhymes But you wouldn't understand You're too simple a mind You're a ******* joke of a ***** I'm an intellectual goldmine If you want see a real **** Then get down and choke on mine***
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Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
I'm Fire
If I do this I will never forgive myself if I'm wrong you will break me, emasculate me. I will fall into the abyss no one will miss. So if I make this leap you won't regret it. Don't make me regret it.
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
I Will Fall
I stare at you and you stare at me, That picture of me before, You looked so young in your pedigree Before we both went to war, But life has left its mark on the face That was captured, back in time, And now there’s little left of your grace, There’s nothing that’s left of mine. For you’re a constant reminder of The man that I thought was fine, I look in awe at your forehead where There isn’t a single line, Not one of the cracks and crevices That now will litter my brow, I wonder how you would feel, if you Were able to see me now? If only I had been painted like The Picture of Dorian Gray, Then you would possibly look like me And I’d be like you today, My faults and pleasures you’d never know Except on your painted face, And you would never be put on show, While I would retain your grace. But time and life are a cruel pair, For age to them is a joke, They both conspire to grey your hair From the time you enter their yoke, They run their tractors over your face Emasculate skin and bone, And when you look, there isn’t a trace Whatever you were, has flown. No sweet young thing will look at you now, If so, she’s telling you lies, The only sign of the love you’ve known Will still reside in your eyes, And so you look at your lady now Who stuck by you, thick and thin, And praise the Lord that she’s aged like you, As you’re falling in love again. David Lewis Paget
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Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 6:10 AM UTC
Time Was...
Emasculate our brains and Release these reins Planted- firm on our stems. I’ll change the carved course That makes me just like them With shaky, unstable hands Unable to fix this fallen hem. To hold closed my seams, all nice and neat. Cover myself, beneath these twisted sheets. Darkness a lover, that always ***** me deep And leaves me in the corner, as I gently weep Softly steals the air I breathe. Consuming, Surrounding, delicately shrouding me. Blind my eyes and deafen ears to screams, And I’ll always ask you an appealing “please?” To calm the howling winds, that sneak against my window And make Death weep inside my head, like a freshly scarred widow. -SLuR
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 1:10 PM UTC
Let's jump in front of a train!
Employing deception because the work must be done we continue to point the emasculate gun pop. and the way becomes clear freer and in here where the liars abound I go to ground. Nothing like asexuality to bother me and there is no and, right hand, left hand, no and left and fait accompli and all deceived me I perceive this to be true.. Actually this is ******** like those things in a boat do we use ****** to row with? see what I did there? pulled **** out of thin air and I'm aware of it. I miss her always will but drop a pill and sleep it'll be alright in the morning.
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
Spiralling
A complicated succubus, an emasculate homunculus Both hollow & irrelevant, haunted by their revenant Broken, tired husks of **** they wallow through, brace & bit Bounded by his lust to breed, she replicates a stolen seed Demons pass to cretin’s progeny, foreordained to homogeny An optimist can’t see the truth, nonsensical & uncouth But, spin your straw to golden fleece, if Stiltskin’s magic brought you peace Your neck should wind up ‘round a noose, …complacency from Mother Goose
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
Modern Cynicism
How dare you insinuate imply that I look to hurt I look to harm. how dare you infer that I would ever use ones weakness against them. I am a monster in my own right, over wrought with self destructive tendencies, but do not confuse me for something I will never be. I would never hurt the one I love, whether it be physically or mentally or to emasculate. my intent is never malicious and you dare to question my motives. a cry from a fool, and yet I have allowed it to sliver under my skin, like the insect it is. know fully well that my intent is kind and my actions and words are sincere. leave be your wedges, or be met with a ferocity like no other.
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Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
dare
To Be Pressed By A Dumbbell Two fifteen pound steely danse sing wrought iron dumbbells ill-tempered, impatiently, and intensely a weight their turn to hmm... press me, and forthwith dense trait heavy handed prestidigitation to yours truly, this primate currently attempting to craft sad excuse for a poem, sans far fetched notion, aye trite re: late engendering, foisting, and goading bizarre lifelike qualities to inanimate solid helpmate to build (and/or oven just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully, resignedly wince, where washboard abdomen long a goner impossible to recoup, whar hide didst narrate ting hours sculpting great former Adonis build on these, now nada so lovely bones, and experience spiritual strife to oscillate, perhaps witness sing angst to esse skill late heady feeling healthy vim within myself, how just with verily at least dedicate half hour exercise can be great for body, mind, and soul triage, otherwise... basic gravitational laws of physics gladly hand me unwanted fate, how gradually physique will eventually demonstrate flabby, droopy, and unwanted addy post tissue create ting another reason to berate, castigate, emasculate, where self repudiation will germinate (albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly doth relinquish fitness regime resulting sparking, and taste testing casus belli dictate tête-à-tête, viz hasty unconditional surrender to a void mortal kombat, which latter, would exterminate, the forces of yin and yang, re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur, thence finding me fraught, (yule hiss see - uselessly) grant ting soul option to disintegrate, in the event emotional civil war, rents asunder every fiber of mine being, which wrath wracked wraith self destruction twill woefully satiate.
0
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
I Cannot Weight To Hmm...
To Be Pressed By A Dumbbell Two fifteen pound steely danse sing wrought iron dumbbells ill-tempered, impatiently, and intensely a weight their turn to hmm... press me, and forthwith dense trait heavy handed prestidigitation to yours truly, this primate currently attempting to craft sad excuse for a poem, sans far fetched notion, aye trite re: late engendering, foisting, and goading bizarre lifelike qualities to inanimate solid helpmate to build (and/or oven just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully, resignedly wince, where washboard abdomen long a goner impossible to recoup, whar hide didst narrate ting hours sculpting great former Adonis build on these, now nada so lovely bones, and experience spiritual strife to oscillate, perhaps witness sing angst to esse skill late heady feeling healthy vim within myself, how just with verily at least dedicate half hour exercise can be great for body, mind, and soul triage, otherwise... basic gravitational laws of physics gladly hand me unwanted fate, how gradually physique will eventually demonstrate flabby, droopy, and unwanted addy post tissue create ting another reason to berate, castigate, emasculate, where self repudiation will germinate (albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly doth relinquish fitness regime resulting sparking, and taste testing casus belli dictate tête-à-tête, viz hasty unconditional surrender to a void mortal kombat, which latter, would exterminate, the forces of yin and yang, re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur, thence finding me fraught, (yule hiss see - uselessly) grant ting soul option to disintegrate, in the event emotional civil war, rents asunder every fiber of mine being, which wrath wracked wraith self destruction twill woefully satiate.
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65
Innocuously incubated kindled imperceptible dire strait restlessness like tinder with pinterest Deutsche agitate barreling like a freight train running so much faster than an eight track uber twittering, rumbling, quickening and inculcate dissension among dissolute rabble rousers, who do obediently initiate rank and file will not abate, boot re:reed out (bus) soon, thence coalesces into ablegate insidious encroachments no longer patiently await... ideal conditions to hatch schism within parched soil perfect for hate mongers of democracy breeds anarchy to facilitate chaos, which quickly spreads like kudzu, or wildfire Arson Welles immediately forcing leader of free world to abnegate, (heard to trumpet "FORGET THE WALL" mate), (despite being caught in his pink frilly underwear), to late for Mar a Lago escape, where formerly great wealth did pool lightly coagulate elite class heard faint stir of echoes, then earsplitting clangorous louder than an ICBM din (er bell) rent asunder forcing freedom of "FAKE MEDIA" to abdicate all the while pointing beringed index finger to accentuate his Taj Mahal ululation interspersed veni, vedi, veci stopping for spate to coif (died in the will) hirsute and aerate said wind swept hairdo pausing every now and again to snap selfie portraits, plus instagram loved ones to alleviate that pompous, outsize, and humongous ego fast deflate ting into a shriveled up POTUS float hissing boilerplate hot airy premature ejaculations, he would not capitulate (sooner be rocketed to Pyongyang and cell bate good times with Kim Jong-un to emasculate! I now absolve myself that aforementioned jest, a tongue in cheek diatribe belies my means to predict any forecast, yet if any resemblance of chance events materializes between my pablum childishness at best there could arise fruitful market for kitsch sheen collectors items high as Mount Everest!
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Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
Ominous Foreboding Augurs...
Innocuously incubated kindled imperceptible dire strait restlessness like tinder with pinterest Deutsche agitate barreling like a freight train running so much faster than an eight track uber twittering, rumbling, quickening and inculcate dissension among dissolute rabble rousers, who do obediently initiate rank and file will not abate, boot re:reed out (bus) soon, thence coalesces into ablegate insidious encroachments no longer patiently await... ideal conditions to hatch schism within parched soil perfect for hate mongers of democracy breeds anarchy to facilitate chaos, which quickly spreads like kudzu, or wildfire Arson Welles immediately forcing leader of free world to abnegate, (heard to trumpet "FORGET THE WALL" mate), (despite being caught in his pink frilly underwear), to late for Mar a Lago escape, where formerly great wealth did pool lightly coagulate elite class heard faint stir of echoes, then earsplitting clangorous louder than an ICBM din (er bell) rent asunder forcing freedom of "FAKE MEDIA" to abdicate all the while pointing beringed index finger to accentuate his Taj Mahal ululation interspersed veni, vedi, veci stopping for spate to coif (died in the will) hirsute and aerate said wind swept hairdo pausing every now and again to snap selfie portraits, plus instagram loved ones to alleviate that pompous, outsize, and humongous ego fast deflate ting into a shriveled up POTUS float hissing boilerplate hot airy premature ejaculations, he would not capitulate (sooner be rocketed to Pyongyang and cell bate good times with Kim Jong-un to emasculate! I now absolve myself that aforementioned jest, a tongue in cheek diatribe belies my means to predict any forecast, yet if any resemblance of chance events materializes between my pablum childishness at best there could arise fruitful market for kitsch sheen collectors items high as Mount Everest!
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