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"extort" poems
I made a deal with Satan Because you showed me That he was my only shot I threw away who I was And became your enemy As I smile like your friend I learned the game And that I have a gift I use it to play you And steal from you And I’ll continue to do so With you as my teacher Until I cough and glare at you Through my last dying breath I’m a villain. I secretly extort and leach Off of everything and everyone That you have ever loved Because that and you Don’t mean anything to me I want to deceive And take advantage Of you and your friends So that I can take your money Because I will not settle For less than the ivory tower That you sleep in.
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
V I L L I A N
So Putin helps Trump win an election And subsequently feels elated. He is still anticipating How he will be compensated. Who are the ones who cheer and clap As Putin takes a victory lap? Watching the Trump administration Blame and distrust the FBI Also tickles Putin as Trump Makes it a target to vilify. Watch Putin cheer and clap As he takes a victory lap. When Trump says he doesn't believe Our intelligence agents here But eagerly accepts whatever Putin tells him, one thing's clear: Trump is willing to cheer and clap As Putin takes a victory lap. When Russia starts a conspiracy theory And blames Ukraine for election meddling, Many Trumplicans here believe The devious lies that the Kremlin is peddling. How can Americans cheer and clap As Putin takes a victory lap? When Trump speaks with the president Of Ukraine and crudely tries to extort Favors from the Ukrainians And threatens to pull U.S. support, Putin supporters cheer and clap As Putin takes a victory lap. As here we see a chilling loss Of democratic values, we Will ask ourselves whatever happened To hope and opportunity. Who then will cheer and clap As Putin takes a victory lap? -by Bob B (12-12-19)
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Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 9:28 AM UTC
As Putin Takes a Victory Lap
The human soul, as vile as bile, Savage Cruel disturbed infected and distort, The human soul, obsessed with foul style, Sinful confused mishandled and extort Devoid of ethical human feelings, Inflicted with raw sadistic hatred, Grotesque depraved dismembered killings, Ungodly occultism, unsacred Sickness requires resolute treatment, Stitches to repair ripped incisions, Reducing the risk of dismemberment, Catastrophe fractured by excision Ceased decaying crippled in dreadful despair Emerging from darkness, disturbed and aware. William James
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
The Evilness of the human soul
Dearest jewels of my crown motherhood Go to the nearest FBI office Accuse all you call friends of a hate crime drugging you without you knowing to make you feel **** and think you are nuts hallucinogens and methamphetamine s do that Do not go to psychiatrist they will trash you your Mom and remove your parental rights forever a Susan and Arthur and Elizabeth already bought you from Haralsmbios a human trafficking psychopath sadist torturer like kiriaki and many more in Greece Those you trust here in USA hide Crimes they are a team of murderers and thieves since 1980 They assimilated Jeff and John through drugs Free yourselves. They all are your deadly enemies they document all lies half truths use assassination of character and fear of your Mom to hide their crimes They are who lie divide you and plan to ****** your Mom too for financial gain. They made credit cards with your name in it to finance murders for hire .. And tell you it's Mom buying thousands of dollars in clothes that's a lie from Satan They are black mailing you. to extort money to **** Mom. ~~ Remove your blind folds fight for your freedom take your children run to FBI office use me as a living witness I am on your side. I love you all my children. ~~ ~My Story poem.~ The greatest deception is calling everyone a friend Today I admit that from ancient times am blessed to have had his intimate piece of heart thus my life was worth while. I declare that even here I was blessed with this Outer Limits De-Javus; ~~ I am forever a grateful Mom, granted to sacrifice my love, my life along with everyone I ever loved the most. There's still justice to be granted; triumph waived with defeat acknowledged. Not only have I waived and yielded to every misfortune but was trashed to the eleven winds as my evil enemy lied to divide me among my dearly beloved offspring planning as in above the law to profit from my demise. ~~~ By: Karijinbba All Rights Reserved.
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Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 1:32 AM UTC
For a third of a friend's heart.
Dearest jewels of my crown motherhood Go to the nearest FBI office Accuse all you call friends of a hate crime drugging you without you knowing to make you feel **** and think you are nuts hallucinogens and methamphetamine s do that Do not go to psychiatrist they will trash you your Mom and remove your parental rights forever a Susan and Arthur and Elizabeth already bought you from Haralsmbios a human trafficking psychopath sadist torturer like kiriaki and many more in Greece Those you trust here in USA hide Crimes they are a team of murderers and thieves since 1980 They assimilated Jeff and John through drugs Free yourselves. They all are your deadly enemies they document all lies half truths use assassination of character and fear of your Mom to hide their crimes They are who lie divide you and plan to ****** your Mom too for financial gain. They made credit cards with your name in it to finance murders for hire .. And tell you it's Mom buying thousands of dollars in clothes that's a lie from Satan They are black mailing you. to extort money to **** Mom. ~~ Remove your blind folds fight for your freedom take your children run to FBI office use me as a living witness I am on your side. I love you all my children. ~~ ~My Story poem.~ The greatest deception is calling everyone a friend Today I admit that from ancient times am blessed to have had his intimate piece of heart thus my life was worth while. I declare that even here I was blessed with this Outer Limits De-Javus; ~~ I am forever a grateful Mom, granted to sacrifice my love, my life along with everyone I ever loved the most. There's still justice to be granted; triumph waived with defeat acknowledged. Not only have I waived and yielded to every misfortune but was trashed to the eleven winds as my evil enemy lied to divide me among my dearly beloved offspring planning as in above the law to profit from my demise. ~~~ By: Karijinbba All Rights Reserved.
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42
[Intro: Quavo] **** man. Brrrrtttttt Hello? What the hell you mean Ma? I ain't did **** **** [Hook: Quavo] Feds hit the spot man I ain't saying nothin They came around about 5 o' clock this morning (12!) They telling me I'm copping contraband from informants Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!) Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy Feds hit the spot say I'm copping from informants Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!) [Verse 1: Quavo] Yeah, yeah, Quavo I pick up my **** and then hit the door (Oh **** **** 12!) Surrounding my house and they kick the door (Boom! Boom!) "Don't move, get on the floor!" I hit the window and fell on the curb I'm trying to get up and take off, the officer speared me, like Goldberg Say "Where were you 3 o clock on the dot?" "My Momma's house" "You a ******* liar" Have you heard about your new worker? (Nah) Know I put him in your circle I witnessed you purchase the pound (nuh uh) I witnessed you purchase the brown (no you didn't) I witnessed you purchase the white (no!) Say goodnight down the road for a long flight [Hook] [Verse 2: Takeoff] Hot Boy like Silkk the Shocker, pull up on your blocka with the Waka Flocka Momma hit me on my cellular told me that Quavo got caught by the coppers **** They say they've been investigating and Migo gang we connected with the mobsters (Huh?) Can't talk to you ****** my lawyer talk. **** the prosecutor Mr. Marcus **** Lookin out of my window, I see a black truck and it's empty Walk to the door check the peephole (what that is man?) Then I start hearing a noise and it makes me paranoid **** Thinking what the **** is going on? (What the **** All of these tools like it's Autozone If I get caught I ain't coming home (No!) [Hook] [Verse 3: Offset] Offset! They said that I sold to informants I told them I just got off touring They circle my house like an orbit **** He telling me he gon extort me (huh?) 50% of my income, unfortunately he not gon get none Life sentence or freedom so pick one **** ***** you trying the wrong one **** ***** Quavo call my phone, his spot got raided it just got kicked in We all met up in the Westin Who know what the **** going on it ain't making sense (who know?) The police talking they got evidence I told you ****** bout serving them Mexicans (I told you ****** **** There go 12 **** I picked up my **** and I moved out the residence [Hook]
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May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Hot boy
[Intro: Quavo] **** man. Brrrrtttttt Hello? What the hell you mean Ma? I ain't did **** **** [Hook: Quavo] Feds hit the spot man I ain't saying nothin They came around about 5 o' clock this morning (12!) They telling me I'm copping contraband from informants Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!) Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy Hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy, hot boy Feds hit the spot say I'm copping from informants Channel 2, Fox 5, I'm America's most wanted! (Ooh!) [Verse 1: Quavo] Yeah, yeah, Quavo I pick up my **** and then hit the door (Oh **** **** 12!) Surrounding my house and they kick the door (Boom! Boom!) "Don't move, get on the floor!" I hit the window and fell on the curb I'm trying to get up and take off, the officer speared me, like Goldberg Say "Where were you 3 o clock on the dot?" "My Momma's house" "You a ******* liar" Have you heard about your new worker? (Nah) Know I put him in your circle I witnessed you purchase the pound (nuh uh) I witnessed you purchase the brown (no you didn't) I witnessed you purchase the white (no!) Say goodnight down the road for a long flight [Hook] [Verse 2: Takeoff] Hot Boy like Silkk the Shocker, pull up on your blocka with the Waka Flocka Momma hit me on my cellular told me that Quavo got caught by the coppers **** They say they've been investigating and Migo gang we connected with the mobsters (Huh?) Can't talk to you ****** my lawyer talk. **** the prosecutor Mr. Marcus **** Lookin out of my window, I see a black truck and it's empty Walk to the door check the peephole (what that is man?) Then I start hearing a noise and it makes me paranoid **** Thinking what the **** is going on? (What the **** All of these tools like it's Autozone If I get caught I ain't coming home (No!) [Hook] [Verse 3: Offset] Offset! They said that I sold to informants I told them I just got off touring They circle my house like an orbit **** He telling me he gon extort me (huh?) 50% of my income, unfortunately he not gon get none Life sentence or freedom so pick one **** ***** you trying the wrong one **** ***** Quavo call my phone, his spot got raided it just got kicked in We all met up in the Westin Who know what the **** going on it ain't making sense (who know?) The police talking they got evidence I told you ****** bout serving them Mexicans (I told you ****** **** There go 12 **** I picked up my **** and I moved out the residence [Hook]
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56
Bonn Prostitutes working the streets now pay twice for displaying their treats. Not content with the tax they extort, for plying the world's oldest profession. Now Politicians, ****** of a sort, want more money despite the recession. Now to make the sin tax yield sweeter Certain streets now have ********** meters. Six Euros a night is the rate for these girls who have more than one “date” So if your “dame des abends” says “Antreiben! ” as the clocks ticking down on the evening. She has a legitimate worry in telling her"boyfriend" to hurry. In Bonn, the meter is running and only the meter maid’s coming!
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May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Meter maids
Her soul is blind As her body is imperfect Her stretch marks were written in coded language She’s so pure that she’s toxic. Braille: Only passionate readers understood her vibe…her stories. Written in coded language of cracked walls and extorted minds You know... Extorted minds. Extorted the way we extort morphine to coke fiends Cracked walls. Matching the cracked walls of our unity. Can you read her? Can you, dig deep and fill a human being with that Refreshing feeling we should all get after engaging in a Dope *** intellectual conversation. Read her, fluently. Intelligence is so attractive. But…after talking for hours it’s apparent that your mind is shallow. I don’t know what’s left to do. Tell me…How long has it been since someone has touched you entirely Without having to actually touch you? How long has it been since you’ve silenced your mind? & let your mind be where it already is. Leave it alone. It’ll quiet itself. Her soul is blind. Her mind is hungry. Seeking the unknown. Deep in the depths of what doesn’t need to be retrieved. She wonders how far tomorrow is. Today is an illusion. She is not worried. Her soul is blind.
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
Blind Soul Searcher
There's a Tale of hare named Bugs, wisecracking Brooklyn speedster who raced against a Tortoise green. Mercedes grey speeding along, distancing a schlepping spect, a North Face jacket on fruitcake's trek. 4000 fast and sleek. 8 slow and green. Neither racers strangely notice that child born on dented stripes, warning bumps by side road way. Is life a sacred race? Marriage sacrament a finishing face? Dying memories trace a cove and net lacing U and who? What's up Doc? Eating healthy, eating carrots? I hear your voice who's love does bare. False Saffron leiter extort and retorts weiter! Komisch verwaltung Schwartz holzteer baiting babies to finish fear. A cartoon film skipping and tear telling a child's tale reel ending here.
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Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 7:23 AM UTC
Hare Bugs
Let's start a business today! We'll call it Complimentary Mirror.  Here's how it works. First thing in the morning you look into the mirror and say, "mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all"?        And the Complimentary Mirror answers back - you are, your the fairest of them all.  Then it tells you one of hundreds of reasons why your magnificent, which it keeps stored in its data base.      The mirror would give compliments why someone is so terrifically wonderful. Compliments such as: Your wonderful because you don't take **** from no one. Your awesome because you practice revenge on your enemies. Your the fairest of them all because you extort favors from your inferiors and blackmail your superiors.   You rise above all others because you don't tolerate stupid people and publically humiliate them. Your terrifically wonderful because you discipline with spanking other people's children. And you get raises at work by threatening your boss. And want public hangings brought back. And loathe loud talkers to the point of wanting them dead.            And other complimentary mirror things. A mirror that compliments you each morning to help you get a positive start on your pathetically wretched day. Let's start a business today!   (Trademark pending).
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 7:25 PM UTC
Complimentary Mirror
I can see it in your eyes they speak of you They glisten bright in the dark and you shadow speak the loudest to eyes of many you are a heroine in my view you are a loser But what happens when we fall in love caress and make love Yet you extort yourself you seem gentle like a dove but a cheap stripper you are Words spread like wild fire all you claim am a liar but truth always tear heart into pieces -
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Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
The Impersonator
Fire a blaze with a roar so loud, a fort that keeps people away, vicious sort with a corrupted mind, extort the poor and needy, distort the reality, the people retort I am the bad heart, now they cavort as I am no more, the fire fort has done it's deeds, foolish people court with imbecile intellect, contort are their lives now accomplices are now turncoat.
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Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 2:45 PM UTC
Fire breathing dragon
My Lord is not your typical boss My Lord does not extort His children's wages He adorns them with crowns of salvation My Lord's love is ungoverned by the scepter of time for it is eternal He was is and will forever love you. Look into His eyes. Do you not see them filling up in teary angst? His arms outstretched longing for your embrace. "Come home, my Child Here you will find rest and ever lasting love. I will clothe you finer than the flowers I will wipe every tear from your cheek that sadness will be a long-forgotten memory. The world has beaten you down but I will lift you up."
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Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 4:24 PM UTC
My Lord
Death, thou was once an uncouth hideous thing, Nothing but bones, The sad effect of sadder grones, Thy mouth was open, but thou could not sing For we considered thee as at some six Or ten years hence, After the loss of life and sense, Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks We looked on this side of thee, shooting short; Where we did find The shells of fledge souls left behind Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort But since our saviors death did put some blood Into thy face; Thou art grown fair and full of grace, Much in request, much sought for as a good For we do now behold thee gay and glad, As at dooms day; When souls shall wear their new array, And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust Half that we have Unto an honest faithful grave; Making our pillows either down, or dust.
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Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC
Death
Stuck fast. Two tongues. No need to rip apart. Ice sticks. Lollipops for licking. Fragile dipped on wooden sticks. Sweet love of feline lady. In battleship grey concealed. The once openness of heart removed. Stars bow down in crouching grace. Tried to catch the suns rays. Dared to try. Fingers of children burned. Uplifting the sullen face. Extort a stupid smile. (C) Livvi x 2014
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
Phone Calls
Trying to describe what happened to us is like fumbling to forge stars from the evanescent remains ever fluent in our veins of astral bodies drifting further away. Translunar thoughts extort my orbit around you regardless of your eyes, their contained gravity despite your lucid voice and it's fervid pull, how they all hold me in place. You are your own universe and I am lost in your space. Asteroids of presentimental wounds cratered my trust you eclipsed unhindered through my life and flared into hers; our syzygy was over but I never noticed our declination occur, with your ephemeral attention and I, rapt in limerence, stayed a sidereal fragment to your sky. I never did and still don't mind...
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
Astral Bodies
Vestiges A morning pills Rookery dismissed the asphalt veins Upload to the guts A long pipe with loop end Useless Any place is ready for a shred gaze .. Another shrapnel of a flinch Skins die young A mile *** and feet misconception Reach-less away the cloaked steps A ****** stores in a single snapshots of a wake || Sat A few verso to unlock the night My shadow disarray me And all roads weep in flinchlike A **** turfs beside the sole entance's city Lost in rhyme A sleep or else no more an option An occupying air extort my corpse And plant an images and flanks in my head Sat A few steps to unlock the night And the door mute And all cities are falling now ||| Mock the pain Will perish if you passed away Reach the escape pod And no one will ever stain the quietude Will provoke the gypsy body Sad cars agonize my civilized body Mock the pain Nothing left to pay a visit toll
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
Vestiges
Starring through the eye glass of this Empty. Empty bottle, and then another and another I extort the plights of this world Post-pubescent, Bile. The gutters reject the rain the same Alleviated by the glint. The glimmer of the OPEN sign cascading across your Eyes, repress the boredom. The subdued state of Euphoria. So lets drop the glass and propose our toasts Renegades on a destructive course.
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May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:19 AM UTC
Bar Company
Bruno           he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice: Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor.  I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity.  I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy *****  just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations.  No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.        Caspian   Choreographed katas supplement his beast. He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies.  Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion.  Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation. Roland He’s like a Mayan calendar.  Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious.  He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco.  Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples.  You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.   Sol His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy.  The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle.  His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency.  The weight of his words, the upward convection of  their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant.  He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge. Richthofen He is manumission, no more the faded vision of  body incarnates ghosts.  He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant.  Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency.  He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit.  The incongruous incognito with no moniker.  Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
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Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
Printemps des Hommes
Bruno           he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice: Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor.  I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity.  I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy *****  just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations.  No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.        Caspian   Choreographed katas supplement his beast. He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies.  Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion.  Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation. Roland He’s like a Mayan calendar.  Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious.  He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco.  Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples.  You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.   Sol His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy.  The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle.  His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency.  The weight of his words, the upward convection of  their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant.  He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge. Richthofen He is manumission, no more the faded vision of  body incarnates ghosts.  He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant.  Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency.  He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit.  The incongruous incognito with no moniker.  Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
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12
I knew a man, a woman too, good hard working souls You’ve heard the stories, read the myths of how they dug their holes I promised them I’d tell the world and make them see the truth That once they were - like you and me - only in their youth They made a stand and brought their cause Died upright not on all fours Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray In days gone by Jack worked so hard, just trying to appease But life was tough and nothing helped and so the law did squeeze Every penny that he earned was given to the courts Til one day he realised they do nothing but extort Jill was a loving lass of this they all agreed A talented young writer girl and so she was envied She met him in a bar one night and as the music played They fell hard and fast and so began their own crusade Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray They sentenced him for petty theft and threw him into cells Whilst locked away inside if him vengeance came to swell He said to Jill on his release, “Babe it’s you and me, But know that lest we make a change we never will be free”. A robbery in Austin, a death in Shelby Bay Pin it all on Jack and Jill you hear the lawmen say Yet all they did was fight against a world on self destruct And to this day I never met a couple less corrupt Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray And in their hearts they knew from when first blood did spill That this was it, the trail's end, the death of Jack and Jill Copyright © 2009-2017 KF and CF
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 9:56 AM UTC
Jack And Jill
I knew a man, a woman too, good hard working souls You’ve heard the stories, read the myths of how they dug their holes I promised them I’d tell the world and make them see the truth That once they were - like you and me - only in their youth They made a stand and brought their cause Died upright not on all fours Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray In days gone by Jack worked so hard, just trying to appease But life was tough and nothing helped and so the law did squeeze Every penny that he earned was given to the courts Til one day he realised they do nothing but extort Jill was a loving lass of this they all agreed A talented young writer girl and so she was envied She met him in a bar one night and as the music played They fell hard and fast and so began their own crusade Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray They sentenced him for petty theft and threw him into cells Whilst locked away inside if him vengeance came to swell He said to Jill on his release, “Babe it’s you and me, But know that lest we make a change we never will be free”. A robbery in Austin, a death in Shelby Bay Pin it all on Jack and Jill you hear the lawmen say Yet all they did was fight against a world on self destruct And to this day I never met a couple less corrupt Jack and Jill were murderers I’m sure you’ve heard them say Of how they pillaged and broke the law But it was the law that did betray And in their hearts they knew from when first blood did spill That this was it, the trail's end, the death of Jack and Jill Copyright © 2009-2017 KF and CF
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37
Let me be me. Trust my judgement even if you don't know what it means Believe that I am trying Explaining how I feel is a lot harder than lying. I am afraid. I am scared with every word I say But not because of I'm unsure who I am at the end of the day. I know who I am. What I'm afraid of is that our relationship will fade. It's hard for both of us, All I'm asking for is a little bit of trust I know you don't want to give it because I've lied. I know you feel like your daughter has died But I know that your son is alive. He's not asking for help, he just wants support You can't get a her out of him no matter what you try to extort. I've always been a people pleaser, who said I didn't act that way for you? I don't like upsetting people, this trait is not new. I know you think I am too young But I am sure as the rising sun I may not know everything, but at least I know this So draw your arrow and aim your bow But if you shoot be sure not to miss Because when it comes to this, I will not just roll over and lie low.
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Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
Listen
Alone in this world, yet surrounded by friends All worried about following the latest trends But not me, I want to be free from odds and ends The best styles depend on what the media says They handpick the physically elite to place in a close-up lens All calculated deceit, if you fall behind you’ll end up in the back seat Now anyone can be elegant, employing technology to cheat Revamped appearances are now displayed on our main streets Transforming young girls views to make them feel incomplete Natural beauty is harder to come by, morphing us to an effete society Notoriety is easier to achieve, our adoration alters confidence to anxiety I now question our propriety; forced variety plagues our high society They extort and contort the public’s image to be shown on public transport Deciding who wears it the best will soon become a contact sport I fear for our culture, even the most allure now sells themselves short One day this all may change, but for now the homely get a larger sentence in court
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
Media Mold
Quiet between us is louder than words Silence speaks volumes, I don't need to use my voice I hear your hurt in what is left unsaid Emptiness evident, pain because of my choice. Shame invading both our bodies Deceit emanating off skin like steam Guilt rising up in my esophagus Close your eyes a minute and dream. You are not alone, just look around Arms open wide many places for support If you decide to wake the **** up Stop living to lie, steal, and extort. All those unpaid debts you owe The hopes already paid You feel down right now I am sure Held back by past mistakes made. The photographs we snapped were colorful To my eyes don't look as bright Dark restless mental corridors Pick my battles but don't fight. To relieve burden of cowardice Remove weights hanging from my heart Plucking slowly like plums Growing back faster than I tear apart. Want to be superhuman Heroes seldom make mistakes Tired of being cast as the villain You are the one who constantly takes. It is impossible to work this out The aftermath is too messed up Revelation stings, salt in my wounds There exists no future "us." Everything I see is different now Our cherished relation-ship has sailed You are trying to swim after me Can't see you've already failed. Hearts in different hemispheres Minds pulled to opposite poles Although you are only a short drive away There is a sea of silence separating our souls.
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
Sea Of Silence
Bruno           he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice: Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor.  I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity.  I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy *****  just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations.  No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.        Caspian   Choreographed katas supplement his beast. He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies.  Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion.  Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation. Roland He’s like a Mayan calendar.  Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious.  He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco.  Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples.  You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.   Sol His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy.  The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle.  His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency.  The weight of his words, the upward convection of  their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant.  He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge. Richthofen He is manumission, no more the faded vision of  body incarnates ghosts.  He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant.  Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency.  He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit.  The incongruous incognito with no moniker.  Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Printemps des Hommes
Bruno           he trims a Cuban cigar and places it in his anti-authoritarian orifice: Foreshadowing the mysteries of life brings the succulent cauldrons of mystical salaciousness to a boiling ardor.  I’ll entice the myriad realms of your enchantress and wring the moisture out of your femininity.  I’ve got a cat of nine tails in my hands- I dare you to stroke me, you sassy *****  just so you may know my obeisant oblations orchestrations.  No other woman moves me like the feral ***** you employ.        Caspian   Choreographed katas supplement his beast. He’s adamant and masculine, and plucks the strings of his guitar in anticipation of your ****** harmonies.  Pounce firmly on his erotica erectile like the black panther of his lust’s rebellion.  Caress the protuberance of his virility- mount his exsertion- hair on hair- wanton on wayward- peal him slowly with your agile ictus- he’s ambrosia and honey- extort the fecundity out of him and give it back like a fertile libation. Roland He’s like a Mayan calendar.  Excruciatingly exacerbating, imperturbably tenacious.  He’ll draw the sport out of you and make you bounce like a cowgirl on a bronco.  Only to buck you off and leave you in the dust like a flaccid martyr on the ground he tramples.  You’ll reminisce his wily gate where ever you tread, and ****** yourself at the thought of his machismo machinations as you rode his determinism.   Sol His exotic lightning vaunts in the celestial canopy.  The blood of new world wizardry, he seduces from the apex axis of his citadel pinnacle.  His warrior heights ooze with the psychic clarity of zoomorphic demagoguery’s rebellion and make the knight groan with exigency.  The weight of his words, the upward convection of  their accessional draws sweat and *** from your extant.  He can sense your arousal from miles away and seduces your mind like a torrential deluge. Richthofen He is manumission, no more the faded vision of  body incarnates ghosts.  He writes of the enrapturing mesmeric-ness of its inebriation to tantalize his wanton decadent blatancy’s flagrant.  Impetus intrigue and intuitional verve become sensual currency.  He’s the lounging lion, the puissant God, the edifice ******** of pornographic wit.  The incongruous incognito with no moniker.  Seduced by your poet he would romance the *** out of you and leave you enraptured with your own anonymity at the edge of the new world freeway.
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It's like actors They don't act all their lives They act when the camera is rolling Or when they find themselves in the mud I write love upon the hearts of men And women thank me for my service But when the seizure is over The madness is lost in an exhale And I transmute into the beast that I am Only to extort another soul to place in my tragedy
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
The love of the vampire
Eli had no reason to hang around while the band shaved their skulls & went full-tilt Nihilism, singing about nothing at all. Normally immune to Strychnine, Jane was spontaneously bleeding from the face; seeing his opportunity, Ivan pulled her onto the stage. Thereupon the crowd erupted in furious moshing; The Band revisited DEAD POWER, played Brutal Church & songs from the ***** Tour, encore after encore while Jane was brought to the Hosp. Knowing Eli Simple was a known collaborator with the riotous band, the Russian Police, informed that Eli had flown to Montenegro, the police tried to extort a bribe from the feckless poet-musicians; It was Ivan who suggested a Benefit Concert for the police. Of course, everyone agreed. Instead of shutting the band down they were plugged into the City's power grid & blacked out Eurasia ... The morning sun returning sleepily to the gilded old city, no arrests had been reported the entire night; all brawls broken out in the spirit of jocular fun, black eyes & bruises notwithstanding. Jane was the talk of the town: "Like an American Horror Movie!" they said. Chuckie's stick figure had been fitted into a red bikini & she sat smiling, tanked up on coffee in the day room. Eli handed her his glass of whisky & lita cigarette. The head housekeeper also greeted the man of the house with a hearty smile; "Oh, MIster Simple, I am so happy you brought home Miss Arzhaiana. My gransparants are Chukchi." The newlyweds took turns drinking from the glass. Chuckie was already thirsty & Eli inevitably bored. The News was filled with multiple contradictory reports of the St. Petersburg Policeman's Benevolence Society Fundraiser, which raised no money but the city's overall morale was greatly improved. Every citizen had an unflinching grin on their face, as if overnight they'd been purged of the vilest demons of their country's centuries of violent repression & persecution.
0
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
UK - The Cops Made Us Do It
Eli had no reason to hang around while the band shaved their skulls & went full-tilt Nihilism, singing about nothing at all. Normally immune to Strychnine, Jane was spontaneously bleeding from the face; seeing his opportunity, Ivan pulled her onto the stage. Thereupon the crowd erupted in furious moshing; The Band revisited DEAD POWER, played Brutal Church & songs from the ***** Tour, encore after encore while Jane was brought to the Hosp. Knowing Eli Simple was a known collaborator with the riotous band, the Russian Police, informed that Eli had flown to Montenegro, the police tried to extort a bribe from the feckless poet-musicians; It was Ivan who suggested a Benefit Concert for the police. Of course, everyone agreed. Instead of shutting the band down they were plugged into the City's power grid & blacked out Eurasia ... The morning sun returning sleepily to the gilded old city, no arrests had been reported the entire night; all brawls broken out in the spirit of jocular fun, black eyes & bruises notwithstanding. Jane was the talk of the town: "Like an American Horror Movie!" they said. Chuckie's stick figure had been fitted into a red bikini & she sat smiling, tanked up on coffee in the day room. Eli handed her his glass of whisky & lita cigarette. The head housekeeper also greeted the man of the house with a hearty smile; "Oh, MIster Simple, I am so happy you brought home Miss Arzhaiana. My gransparants are Chukchi." The newlyweds took turns drinking from the glass. Chuckie was already thirsty & Eli inevitably bored. The News was filled with multiple contradictory reports of the St. Petersburg Policeman's Benevolence Society Fundraiser, which raised no money but the city's overall morale was greatly improved. Every citizen had an unflinching grin on their face, as if overnight they'd been purged of the vilest demons of their country's centuries of violent repression & persecution.
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