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Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The burr shaking in a
Bohemian Awakening
(Long) vintage stare how
her words were spelled
out snake tongue (Short)
The Death
Whats Up* Chap of a sport
Whats Up Doc
Going tick tock Mr. Rick
Don't trick this document
Oh! where did it drop
What!! He made the drop
dead gorgeous dress?

Born to die last lip of the spoonfuls
Cut to the chase with my chap lips
More deaths on the rise to deliver 
 
How love was the
mind controller
Hands out of the grave
couldn't hold her
Like the Boulder Chief head
Hothead on her shoulder
The better herbs of medicine
His racing car hot flame
gasoline

The Rapsody of her melody
holding on to her life
What a unique wife
Until time changes her moods
Opening up her world of flower buds
A different silence of home goods
We do believe we can be

The Champions

But the fallout of promises
Or jobs never big advances

Oh! Christ
Her chapped lips needed some
time to heal where is her next meal
The heat catching a death of cold
But staying alive the second
wind hot Ferrari Italian drive
Feeling deathly-sick faking
your death was no trick


Who disappeared never
really certain
if it was truly their
Building the fire mountain
Don't keep complaining
where the time went
Death of a cold wishes
not to die
where is our youth
Only takes one amazing birth
Lips kissing the fountain
The fortune teller booth

Who would want her chapped lips
Baby Ruth crunchy bar
down the mountain
The love confused her the
death would be
faster going once or twice up
Guilty trip or the graveyard shift
Hangover ski lift with her
Beeswax for chap lips
Taxman on the number rise flirting
What a good chap
In her coffee cup a little Robin birdie
told you

You made your own grave
time on my side or hanging
by a thread of stitches
Hats off up and away
Getting a green facelift of witches
You lived so far the good life
Feeling so wanted
he cooked your meals
He cleaned up your mess wearing
The Chef Apron 
 *He's Wanted
the sign
All over the world,
his face is wanted
The fool lips the fuller up lips
The heart went out of touch a deathly cold
She is wearing her heart-shaped lips
Doing what she is told
How the world has been
smudged with
rules
Noone knows where here

All her cracks of her lips
The cute button nose
Not Rudolph the Reindeer
The hunt for the ****** nose
Up close and personal
Lip to his lip journal
Such odds of numbers
So many even deaths
like tumblers
Through the loopers
Love and resentment
The world is a village commitment
Mcdonald Man beef and the
melted lady
cheese
whooper
You got an alert notice
The cast of spells the
fire went high
You couldn't even put it out
The death of a Salesman novice
Papercut snip computer nasty chip
The charcoal grill felt like it burned you
The fires new hires of California
The peace sign
Imagine people with no

Holy water
Whose mind is in order
The Dementia patients
Your own flame so many hot flames
The rest of the world caught a death
of a cold like an old flame

*The Goddess of Venus

The darker edge his cool hummer
Going on a shoot with chapped lips
Who is really keeping tabs

There was nothing to believe in to hold
To restore how do we balance the world
But we are not Gods
Chapped lips caused
such an alarm
All things take time then
it's in harm's way
Someone will understand to pay
Like a settlement
Deathly gray hairs on the pavement
Getting hurt but the best Godly soil
is still their like dirt
There was no reception hell broke
loose riot
Everything was naked sound
No time to sing a duet to
feet on the ground love couplet

That snow drift fall on your face
Who will be where you are in
the next century place

Perhaps your last picture
before you die
How the singer live on
to be remembered
  Why are we not discovered
Can we be saved from redemption
Like you have been squirted on
Like Heinz Ketchup did you catch up
To get his kiss did he feel your death of cold
But never to exist
What is on our bucket list?
This was something I thought of not everything we breath is pure that we adore
times are changing don't you feel your getting a death of a cold to think about it
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
How the silence greeted her never be?
Never see the clock to fool you
Always react quickly the change
will get you
About  her time never to be wasted
And never the right time to be free
Please she is the lady never
defeated like General Lee
The revelation to be loved
he had this clock-wise
reaction

Charlotte curved her position
like a pendulum going back and forth.

It was all she could say
she looked up at him
dancing with the golden flames
piercing her eyes. nineteen roaring
just about twenty dames
The clocks how she envisioned the
quarterback the hands like wands
had different names of foreign lands
Please, not my clock hand my hand
I am running out of time
The love doesn't last even the
first time or your
Last race against time
I assure you the competition never the
right words
But I am feeling all the wrong
signals so indecisive
Clocks somehow can be relative

Her heels not so concrete when
we are talking
and especially walking running late
its always like  her and his debate
So conclusive men campfire no clocks
But the hot fire bacon
Her clock is near the mason jar
Hollywood star is way out of line
Throw her overboard
The babe is so pompous
ladies taking trips beyond the clock
Graveyard shift please assure me
I can use a facelift
Feeling the dead of night waitress shifts
looking at the clock nothing to rave about

The quiet ones so sensitive giving
them a lift be positive to be saved
and please clock them into the tick.
There shining with there own click
computer ((Apple)) bite with Gents
of martini ladies turn the clock
like Houdini.

We need to be more responsive
to the thing that ticks back at us
So like we are living together so costly
Being passive at the time but expensive every-time
that elapsed like the war of the flow of clocks world.

She hopes so strongly she didn’t jump into his frying pan of words like trying to read the top of the hour newspaper trying to tell the time it’s like a second-hand clock.

But first, most importantly we cannot turn the clock
back to undo the harm it caused.
But we certainly have the power to go with the flow to make things better instant pudding have a way of coming unstuck.

To ensure ourselves what happened in our past never again will we let it flow into our future. Let our minds flow with more positive energy.

Day in and Day out:
Please assure me the right day you come on in
The day that you want to leave but please
don't stay out more time that's what life is about

All you do is dig dig dig… how we conserve energy per unit time. How we put all our energies into works.
Or also our nervous energy fighting trying so hard to focus to find the time to balance our energy our mass movement.

Like the sacred going deep well dig your way to a spiritual time and knowing the truth of things will set us free.

Your the one going solo feel a pounding in your heart needing so much to tell someone how you care about them what happens to you when your day begins.
Do we have a second to think about can we undo something or will it remain deep in our hearts?
Something touched you like explosive words at war with one another how they develop.

How does this entire world deal with such terrorism?
But not having the time
What! I see the clocks and the
Watchtower every soap opera hour to tell someone you love them how you need them because your days come to close to the end.

You feel like a thousand drums
hit you like a bomb going off ticking clocks.

We visualize more what love really is and the day in and day out like the song continues on your digging way down to finding something its huge so major to bring it way up to the surface.

Telling one another the game isn’t over until the clock says zero.
We are going to below trying to dig deeper.
Like time management oxymoron time beyond like anger management, we cannot control it will keep ticking regardless of our lives any flow or form.

He changed to be pleased or she retreated one arm against the mantelpiece his eyes surprised
The engagement turned like a clockwork orange so irritated beyond a different time.
To refresh the orange pulp going to the Gulf of Mexico
She felt stopped for a moment in time how she couldn’t gasp for air.
The sensation got stronger how she was being watched making the right or wrong moves her steps going back and forth.

With an effort,
Please assure me
I know it not easy to please me or how you know me
Like a six sense our eyes went the same direction
Like the romance endless kisses of France
She forced herself to straighten her body
to behave but her mind really needed to function.
He sensed the last word
The next word I assure you it's like a love bomb
For quite some time  I felt in a coffin
like tic rock boom of logs
Emboldened she allowed herself
to see the contour of destined time.
Please assure me all contours shaped his face.
Please assure me I still have a brain but a
different environment place
My clock stopped just when I felt my writer's block
Somewhere over Finnegan's rainbow, his colors
changed my clock.

Like the 'French Emperor Napoleon"
Too many derogatory stereotypes.
The morning mist
The ending  list was lifted by the time
like our world became
so responsible for the past
and future how different the time became.
Like the Rehma time

The flow of electric mechanical
The clock number remarkable, please dig into the deeper movement, beautiful Girl flow’s inside.
Like Yoga life of the party, Gala adulterated minds drift oceans wave brains of Psychology.
Love and hope but our souls the core of our brain.
That cozy warm inviting library with the creative cafe of old grandfather clocks Ingram 1828 Ansonia 1850
His name Gilbert rocking pendulum newton equation
Please assure me we will meet again there is so much space

How someone is born with the proverbial silver spoon those compounding assets please assure me I will look up your face in my clock became all in one heirloom faces.
Another clock I assure you its different uniquely written but we need time do you have some time to read this its important your all invited I am giving you lots of space
Robin Carretti Feb 2019
Going left a smile
green* bluesy* drift
Getting out of debt
The heartedly so flowery
rosy ring around
Gifted box
*Valentine Rosy*

I box heads over
puppy tails
cozy firey
Love diary doing the
Cutesy
Bow Wow parade
Those red hot lips
cascades
she's... the... lie...
The hue (Anchor- Blue)
Gotcha  "Eyes Baby blue
Clue"

To cross my red heart
And hope not to die
The Lady's
finger (Godiva)
  I-spy finger*
Heartless Diva
The fork of the road

Lies of the
dead ringer
He points his finger
Face to two face
facelift?
Boom-Boom

a car crash just a dash

Her beats and hearts

What a crush to her
    left
Tell me sweet lies
         I box gift
Oh! Yes you're
right
Like the scoundrel
The damsel in distress
sweet morsel

I sir box like spots spread
Like the (Chickenpox)
Hearing lies tons of
squirrels
Like Botox Plastic
Rascals
I-box ties
Hallmark, I love you lies
Superman Clark
Outfoxed the ballpark

Little lies blue
big shark
Smartphone I Sir bark
Red Valentine love walk
People are the luckiest
      I- wish
Close your eyes sweet lies

Sweet I-Box in Trio

CEO Watching "TV FIO"  
Podcast little lies turn
into big lies
Ballot Political list

Romantic cutout card lies
Tell me, Little Lies he trips
Electric lips music chair
Open eyes full shut lips
This is a little thought turn into a big I box cut out cards I seem to like the most Sweet Valentine or a little lie lets breathe remembering the classics romantically crossing the Atlantic the truth and lies can catch a moment hold onto them electric lips will win
PrttyBrd Dec 2014
Gilded cage so small and tiny
Even singing comes out whiny
Stinking of fake fresh and piney
Tis the season
Leaking water warm and briny
With good reason

Christmas cheer and glasses toast
Loved ones smile and laugh and boast
I sit perched upon my post
A tinsled column
Invisible reluctant host
A heart that's solemn

A longing for a love so distant
The melancholy is persistent
A smile could erase it in an instant
On a face cherubic
For my heart is not resistent
It's theraputic

So that smile that is perfection
Is mirrored in my own reflection
Without a thought about rejection
Hallucinations
About the subtlest inflection
In Salutations

Surrounded by the merrily intense
With drunkard tendencies immense
A bar with all accoutrements
They pound tequila
Drinking away the sacraments
Oh yes, I feel ya

Merry time with old Kris Kringle
Guests all lubed enough to mingle
Mistletoe hangs and sleigh bells jingle
Gifts homemade
Tables adourned and glasses tingle
Gold brocade

Still I sit all caged and flightless
Blind to joy all sad and sightless
Drink could make it hurt a mite less
I'm going backward
Laying here all limp and lifeless
Broke and fractured

Surrounded by the fake and vexing
Artificial and quite perplexing
Reality they are rejecting
The devil may care
Bellies bare and muscles flexing
Lost underwear

So ******* dancing to the jukebox
Lost alone here in the boondocks
There is no snow upon the rooftops
Ahead they forge
Find a room before that thing pops
It's so engorged

Neighbor ***** all dressed in orange
Wearing gold to make the poor cringe
Stripping time to fill her syringe
I'll be her hinderance
Still too drunk from her last binge
Faulty remembrance

Ridding riff raff from the party
People still drunk on Bacardi
Noxious gasses burp and farty
With toilets makeshift
Worn out makeup on the smarty
She needs a facelift

Time to let the people go
Too tired to keep watching the show
Drinking hard and walking slow
Verbose yet listless
Honey I don't want to know
It's not my business
121614
not the easiest thing to write, but I do so love a challenge
David Ayres Apr 2013
I got the spoon of doom that I"ll smack you in the face with. **** pig, I ****** you up. You need a facelift.

Drift into another lane, cause I'm wasted. You can **** on my metaphorical sausage. Taste it!

Take that stick out of your *** and embrace it lass.

I'll smoke grass and drive like glass with expired tags. I'll snap an I-phone from my dashboard, to your face, while you crash. Score!

My dashing face will smile, all the while your life is flashing. Smashing!

No biggie. Take that piggy!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2015
yeah, let's compose the alphabet in music for each letter we try to sound like a wine bottle cork unplugged from vintage; it won't work, i known, but it might get a few skidding on gizmo go go, trying to democratise iran: try turning iran sunni first, you, you defrosted snowman worth a carrot and two chalk coal ******* writing: hardboiled into sight of believable. oh here comes a white man talking privy aloud with the rapper loosing breath, but keeping it up and replacing the pelvic hinges with easy, drool, rhymes; a kind of rubric tablature of scores for rodeo with alternative sounds to: moo, ow, ah, broomstick shoo, take the cow for a milking home from the dead bull dazzled into genesis on t.v.; or that other literati spectator sport of not reading but talking oneself into academic bibliography for an intro.

the great thing about being an alcoholic...
you never quiet know
when you're drunk or hungover;
but it makes up for great twilight sunsets
pooh lonely; ah ooh smooch -
kisses a honey stick stuck to ****
in a hollywood crescendo of
                     paparazzi and applause;
and anorexia; and dyslexic oiling for a facelift:
that's called smiling i have you know -
                          enter michael jackson - hippie hip he;
if i die aged thirty, i'll be happy to have
            been frisky twenty-nine into a thong.

or, alt., tell ****** about the swimming pool and the tadpole kenyans sprinting into impregnated landownerships of priests: sounds like this: pst - herr führer - die schwimmin poolst erst niener jessy ovens geeignet. no one said that african buttocks couldn't bayou the ships ashore, but they did; what?! i'm not the 12" dangle! you keep up racism, i'll keep up mozart's austria; alt. please see how censoring adjectives in relation to objects gives you a false moral subjectivity that's only a matter of pleasantries.
If you looked into a human face, you would see them slowly dying.
Hair turning grey, wrinkles etching deeper.
The body's shell frailer day by day.
A bag of dead and dying cells.
A body doomed to die.
A meat bag held together by bones,
frail, brittle, breakable bones, bone china skeleton.
You would also see a human trying to defy death's clock.
Botox, facelift, eye tuck, tummy tuck, implants.
Makeup and perfume to mask the stench of death.
Shame.
Why fight the inevitable?
Dying to look young.
© JLB
06/03/2015
13:03 GMT
To give their face a facelift
on the lip and around eyes
invented was lipstick
extracted from dyes.


Ah a woman’s lips
have held for countless age
her mind’s secret tips
love, hatred, rage!

Her lips parted pursed
speak the subtlest lines
of a relation gone accursed
or one in glowing shines!

It’s not when lips do part
but when she’s tightlipped
the silence breaks man’s heart
the strongest one gets ripped!

But sure her puckered ones
they invite you to a bliss
sparkle like thousand suns
when land on you as kiss!
The idea came when my wife was buying a lipstick. Cleopatra is assumed to be one of the first women to use this beautifier. She used crushed carmine beetles.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
All he Oh! Ee-ee easy-does-it
Swift mastery_Crazy-has - its
shape me-energy love form
True witness philosophy
Silently neck to neck sadness
her pearls split pulled
her down into poverty

The emergency, madness
the young ones or wild ones
fertility all pearls majesty
of greatness
innocently, existentially
Her down-side persistently
lift divinely hands Manly-lovely

        (Pearl jewelry box)
His swift moves love ecstasy
My swift lift any of so many
True Fox another Lift- to see
Eyes to his left territory his turf

He is the lefty so pearly for her
So cultured girly pearly
Those were the days dosing off
My friends all daisy
*    _    _    _ *  _    _    _    

What a phaseout/ lazy fuse
But perk me up pink pearls
of white
His swift moves took a day off
Trying so hard to be polite
Hands work into tandem
Her rhythm Pearly  kingdom
She chopped him
like chop suey
Her skin on the bread rise
All floured white specks

Pearly spa cream perfect
Facelift Eeey foggy day in
London pearly glow
rainy town

Everything turned like a
A cafe without the group
Well cultured Dowop
The pearl paint swirl crop
The heroes and beloved
In the Holy Land

Come to me casual softly
spoken lend me your hand
pearly gloves
The pearl potential
the feeling mutual
Fitting and tasseled roped
into the musical
Swift flowing hair's no rings
 attached
to the back of our chairs

The darkness of the lover  
The black/gray pearls two pairs
Spiritual mundane existence
Karmic cycle her game portal
Spiritual plan of ritual

Eating pearl white chocolate morsels

The Steam, dream, in between,
Fundamental not comical
Something in the way she knows
Not really superhuman star how
it faded or belated feel be traded
She submerged beyond mortal

In her Galley cooking up
French cream sauce how
it sparkled Eeey milky
Ms. Mallery was pearlized
so traumatized so sulky
by his presence

Hides her pearl key-note
In her swift lift
(Artsy Gallery)
His face blended into the
pearl all framed

All the pearly Wedgewood
plates looking glass
world gates
Pearly cream color stage duet
To the sun pearly necklace
Cost her a delicate cream neck
Her Spa Tra  he hands her la la
Eeey milky honey smile
Hot MaMa
pearly text me trail

Her emails mount Fuji
Her striking pearls got to his heart
The film hum yum bite
The pearl jam flew
The big show nibble
Her bible she felt gullible
The words deepened ******
But the soft low key
Key lime mixed with coconut
           *Pearl
Hey?
So swiftly swirled vanilla sky
sold her photograph
and chinchilla

The Seashell cottage her
footprints 'Pearl Rock" band

She was devoted to him truly
Pearl pledge was our duty
Swiftly mixed the marbelized
white/cream floor loved
and cared for protected
The Dr. pearl met Melody
Money like commodity
The patients pearled better care

With her  Moms, pearls mixing twirls
On his trimming suits cuffs of pearls
She was the pies smile every day
Swift honey eyes Winnie the Pooh

But more adult Eeeey truly I love you
Her silken strand's tightrope loop
Her power pearl British Colony
of Hong Kong exile

Morning draped dawn
The Chelsea ride of dusk
  Her favorite hint of
(Pearl Rose)
The musk elephant pearls
on his tusk
High up her pearly stocking,
Like her pride, was rocking
he took out the joy of her gift

The writing clause feathered
pearl drops the pen took her
dream away like a truce
The Gods know they love
The Gleam through her
windows
Left a strand of her starry
eyes of pearls were shut closed
So swift or we feel we cannot move into something right. Whether in the daylights or night its a culture of things to come in love form or necklace we must face the beauty or have more love tolerance change the duty
Robin Carretti Jun 2023
FACE-IT

              Fix- it

      Don't -force- it
  *        *        *        *      
Show- it and embrace- it

Facing a timeless jade
Old show façade
Not a test or a grade
Is it old Holiday Parade?
Old show face privacy
Confidence meet bravery
Facelift grave yard shift
  
*        *        *        *
Oldster-Hipster-once
A-Youngster-Cra­nkier
Scrooge old geezer
*      
       *
Old City Mobster
Old show face
Gets riskier on the run
Once young gun

Serene but sassier
Getting up earlier
New show wiser
In the right place
Old show face
We are all getting older but wiser with time we need to face it  and embrace it
Dr pragya suman May 2020
I took in the  suburb my first facelift,
failed in the graveyard
In the pestle dusk
venus was overhead
got charred.
Lightning rod in the creek
of my skull
is rusted,
Undertow churning wheel of whirlpool
giving fresh wrinkles up
Too much
for my fragile facelifts.

Copyright@Dr Pragya Suman
It's a hard life for Dr Brife from the Buddhist temple



Dr Brife has just left Taibet to start up his own practice in Carlton in Melbourne, but the only problem is, that this hospital has just been reopened since the Coopers owned it back in 1991, and it has been given a facelift since that tragic bomb back then.
Dr Brife arrived there but amongst other things he decided not to say he was a Buddhist because most of the population is Christian and he feels that if he mentions his faith, he mightn't have a job very long, but, yes he was peaceful to everyone, no matter who walked through the door, on his first day he had a man who has alcoholic poisoning with not many days to live, and he asked Dr Brive if he can drink beer, becaus if he can't be saved, what 's the point of trying, at least he wanted to go out of this world having fun, and mind you when he says he wants to have fun, he is likely to have so many affairs, his wife and kids add them to the affairs about his will, saying which child will get which wife, none of them wanted these wives, but the eldest son wanted Teri Berger, because she was hot, but that just blew up in his face, and his next patient was Rob Parkin who was a retired doctor, and despite years of preaching to other people, he was so stubborn about his diabetes from too many candy bars, and Dr Brive told him that he must give them up or he will die, and the doctor told him to F off and then left without signing the piece of paper and Dr Brive said send out the bill, and his next patient was 11 year old Harry who at the age of 9 was diagnosed with cancer and he has been going to camp quality, a lot, and he has fun there, but today he was doing his kemotherapy and Dr Brive can't seem to find the cancer, and asked his old doctor for another opinion, because they did see the cancer before and Harry waited as they did tests and Harry was getting excited but Dr Brive said, don't get too excited, yet, because I haven't spoke to your doctor yet, and he knows more than me.
Harry waited for half an hour and then both doctors came in and Dr Brive showed his old doctor the chart and then showing him that there doesn't seem to be any cancer there.
Them Dr Brive asked where was his cancer located, and he said,,it was brain cancer, and yes, I can't seem to find it but I must check it a bit further, just to make sure it isn't going to find his way back, and then he checked and said, you haven't got cancer at the moment, but be careful, don't forget, your cancer looked to be hard to treat, so it could come back, I want you to visit Dr Brive once a week, just to make sure that it stays away, do you think you can do it.
Harry was so excited that his cancer has gone, from that day he wanted to have fun, meanwhile Dr Brive's next patient was Rita Hollingworth, and she has obesity, and she doesn't like doctors, even when they say that she is eating herself to an early grave, but Dr Brive didn't do that, in fact he was nice, and said the first step to losing weight is being treated like an adult, you see it keeps the peace and makes the big person feel grown up and motivated, and every day Rita would complain how downgrading the biggest loser is.
But Dr Brive said, just hang in there and remember to try to stop eating things you love instead of healthy food.
Dr Brive's next patient was also suffering from obesity but this lady also suffers from acute schitzophrenia and the medication that she was on made her fat, and she has no self esteem, and Dr Brive decided that really no one should be put on a un healthy medication and Dr Brive put hsr on another drug abs says we are slowly taking you off those awful hunger drugs and put you on Seroquel, and take 1 400 before you go to bed, and with everything going well, you should be feeling good again soon, and that was the end of Dr Brive's first day and when he finished he went to the Buddhist shelter and meditated for 1 hour, and after that went home to play Buddhist music in his garage, and the whole street liked him and wanted to hear his music as if it brought everyone closer to their Buddhist soul, which is the soul that travels between lives.
Traveler Aug 2021
Okay!
I agree
the earth is in
dire need
scared and blemishes
from sea to sea
a major facelift
would set the earth free
from the likes
of you and me!
Save the whales
save the trees
bring back paradise
bring back the bees
okay
I agree!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Jeffrey Oliviero Jan 2016
A mysterious reappearance on Facebook
has had me recently racing
In a jealous craze, Investigating
My replacement aka
This clown you're dating
I'll man up and admit it
You may have upgraded
Really hate to say it
but he seems amazing
Miserably considering goodbyes
blowing kisses and waving
We've lost our gravitation
You took off on a spaceship
I was too patient and complacent
Questioning every second I waited
Now it's inevitable
The effects left from depression
Can only be fixed with a facelift
She has not engaged a hand, cannot call that her thrift
It’s a delight doing it herself, to give her home a facelift.
Armed with brush and color, seizing time from her chores
She gets engrossed in the pastime, painting windows and doors.
It’s the festive season, she loves its smell in the air
I love the smell of fresh paint, her labor I don’t share.
She looks a dainty artist, colors on hands and face
Her eyes lit up in creative joy, beaming in happiness.
To partake in that graceful sight, when beside her I stand
She asks ‘why watch me idly and not lend a helping hand’!
nate1990 Jan 2016
There's just one thing I long to do to you.
My minds fed up;
Frustrated.
I want to give you a *******
Facelift!
Staring at yourself
have you ever seen-
Your face so beautiful?
Have you ever been replaced
While watching it all go down?

I can't erase you from my mind
I can't controll the way I feel
Your memory
Consumes me
Like the cancer that you are.
I can't erase-
Or turn back time.
I'm so ******* sick from this
DEPRAVITY
CONSUMES ME
time to **** this ******* *****.

This times for real *****
Deep breath in!
Beauty...
It's only skin deep!
And so is my knife,
I'll erase you!
This times for real now
So let's begin!
Maybe it's always been me...
It's all in my mind,
I'll replace you.
REPLACE YOU!
IT'S ALL IN MY MIND [I'LL REPLACE YOU]
Borderline personality disorder
Personification of two very different ego's
She didn't speak,
Just went on with her work
Of giving her home a facelift.
An ethereal urge filled me
To be near her, touch her a little
And add my hands to the touch up.
The air was rich with the aroma
Of the coming of the season of joy.
I knew something never grows old,
Never requires a word or even a look.
In silence we rained love on each other!
trf Jul 2019
i've been thinking bout dying,
no resolve you'll comply with,
ain't no use to keep fightin,
never dreamed of you.

i spend time in my basement,
a downstairs mind with a facelift,
my body's here you're adjacent,
cannot see your view.

i met a girl in the city,
accepts me for who i am,
tongues like heaven while kissing,
we express our truth.

we would never suffice,
it's the same disease,
we're worlds apart
baby it's alright,
but our souls...
they gotta move on.
4 minutes 3 seconds with a grin...
Graff1980 Oct 2017
She was beautiful, a bit small at first. There were wooden panels cutting a rabid swath from every corner. She had two rooms with the potential for more, and chance to start a future.
            Then came a room, and another. The wood was covered or replaced with grainy grey shingles. The grey shingle moistened and dried so many times that they began to rot. A generation came and went, then came back spawning another.
            There were ghosts, not spectral spasms or phantasmal energies, but memories. Walls changing color, furniture coming and going like the children. There was a beautifully brown couch and a rough static cushioned chair. Next to the couch was a misplaced metal shelf that housed endless trinkets, like old watches, batteries, photos, toenail clippers, loose change, a couple pockets knives, and any many other items that paralleled the houses history.
            A radio once adorned the center of the house, then an old box TV, and now a fat screen piece of crap with no character spews out the modern day nonsense, shallow and cold.
            The porch appeared many years after her birth. A stony or maybe metallic desk slowly filled itself with small pieces of the house’s history. There were puzzles with no box, and pieces missing so that only part of the picture could be made; a little black book of dates so far removed from the present that nothing inside was legible. Little toys and sports paraphernalia slipped and slid across the floor till they found their perfect and final resting place. Newspapers and magazine began to rise from the floor to the ceiling as if taking on a monstrous life of their own.
            The cellar went from a useful hole in the ground where jars of preserves were stored to a dusty place with dirt floors and hidden boogie men lay. The back porch, which had a cracked and uneven cement surface, held an old washing machine were the young children occasionally had their tender fingers smashed. Behind the finger smasher was an ancient magic kitchen cabinet where old battle scarred action figures with crack chests, or missing limbs would reappear after vanishing years ago.
            The yard, once full of the sound of children’s laughter and barking dogs, grew silent. Not even the old rope swing with the cracked wooden seat remained. The cement steps and small walkway lost their final battle to the shrubbery. Now the door is concealed as if it is some secret passageway to another land. Maybe it is.
            She leans lightly to the left, buckling under her own weight as she sinks slowly into the dirt and obscurity. This is her short story with more character then a Faulkner novel, and more love then most families will ever know. She was the soft cradling mother of three generations, holding their hearts and all of their memories.
            Now ghostly echoes remain. The second and the last tenant, the mother child who seeded the love and strangeness will fade. The house will rot, for that is its lot. The fireflies that once danced and blinked no longer come, the crickets now chirp their mournful songs. The mother inside loses what little dignity she has left as her mind falters and with her the strength of the house fails as well.
            But there was a time when she shone with all the glory the world had to offer. There was so much love and fun. There was so much safety. There was so much history, maybe a millennia of history that lived with in only a century of time. My other mother, a mask for the last past that I had any link to. I speak to her with the trembling voice of a child waiting for his mother to die, knowing full well that when she passes I will have to depend on this imperfect memory of mine to remember, because she will be gone.
            Somewhere a dog barks, a cat meows, the house creaks with the wind whipping harshly against its new aluminum siding; Just a temporary facelift for a dying beauty.
Mr Xelle Oct 2015
The times we spent the time we waisted,
Was only for a Facebook accept and photos of a facelift.
I saw the smile I heard you was A-List
While I'm stuck at home still tryna sale records like craigslist.
I think about you in the watches of the night I do..
In the day time I was pondering about you.
All I want to do is be someone that they know who cares may I grow old with someone and some job with History that scared to loose this man..
Do anybody want me? I'm losing hope no foreal not on you but in me my friend.
My friends don't even know about this page In losing them one by one I can see it in there face.
I've notice the history time can make it's awsome if were trying to be with no mistakes there all lies how far will you make the heavens fake?
Donall Dempsey Apr 2018
"OK GUYS...TAKE 5!"

coffee break
Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs
play strip poker

Snow White smirks
removes her hairband & an earring
7 naked little men

Goldilocks & The Three Bears
nipping outside for a ***
take a long( ahhhhhh )slow drag

B.B. Wolf and de Pigs
have a quick one
down at their local

Sleeping Beauty
cuddles up to Cinderella
who needs fellas?

Rapunzel
1.30 app. at hairdressers
she gets a bob

Rumpelstiltskin
does his Ali impression
"What's my name...what's my name!"

Wicked Witch
gets another facelift
from Doc Mirror

the Magic Mirror
picks the winner
the 2.30 at the Curragh

the Little Tin Soldier & his ballerina
jiving to Jordan's
THERE AIN'T NOBODY HERE BUT US CHICKENS!

the Little Mermaid
has a foot massage
"Oh me legs are killing me!"

the Ugly Duckling
sitting by himself
in a corner of the canteen

the siren goes
"Ok...ok...places...please!"
they idle back to their respective pages

the book opens
the illustrations smile
at the reader's eyes
Yo them bars elementary so basic let's face it
Them false tactics will get ya facelift
Spittin' bars that's useless I'm ruthless
Eazy like E and the E for ease from the trigger squeeze
Follow my desert ease I give death a tease
Watch ya body sneeze out blood lowers the degrees
Feelin' the depths of hell G prodigy
Breeds causing havoc
Iay chaos like Doncic on the Dallas Mavericks thinkin' you so **** slick
But ya bars to greasy I'll have ya weezy
Please believe me murders are laid easily
It's an angels treasons when you breathing with demons
These 15s Makin' sensory it's the Black Michaelangelo
Paintin' ya ****** to a mural giving out halos
For not laying low my flows cold as nitro-
Gen use trees for my oxygen weaken ya collagens
Stop acting hard fraud when we know bend ya men's
Get it Benjamin's I'm taking ya ends you pretend
Leaving ya body blowin in the wind from
These lyrics that don't bend comprehend
To the back of ya dome wings flying
Hit you in the sky just see you fry again
Die again I was born a slayer hell's mayor
But I thought you was a player til I laid ya
Baby mamas bullets eat through ya flesh call it Dahmer
I'll palm ya with lyrics dunk on ya harder than Jordan did to the Knicks take ya pick
I'm the best at this **** my skills slay more than John Wick
#barznagga
Murphy Oct 2018
Dangerous your face is replacin my hate with patients like a facelift can't stop smilin on days when it's cold and rainin.
  Havoc was my habit  it's useful but leads to sadness, and it's bad it's all I had like a badge to declare my madness.
Then you up and left the state, ran away to clean your plate, then it hit me somethings missing something I could not replace. It's your laugh and it's your taste, it's that you don't know your great.please don't leave before I get to kiss your lips and hold your face.
Bowedbranches Jun 2019
Quick!
Que the narrations
A smooth voice got let loose
And truth gotta facelift

So freakin' biased
We cant help
It's in our nature
To fluff up the sequence

Relinquish some regrets
In attempt to rewrite
Any meaning or misprints
That was etched under the skin of it...

Holding all the pieces
We can Picasso this ****
Or just leave it. as it. already. is.
So raw so so rhythmatic

Naked Atoms
Just reacting
Simple math
Creature of habit

Tend to stress instead of laugh
Put one in a cave,
WATCH US MAKE ANYTHING ...
Anything But our own happiness

Happiness, what is that ishh?
A short hip hop song I wrote to the beat Nomento by blockhead.. just discovered in my songbook so I figured I would share  :)
Selling a cottage

I had my little house up for reluctant sale
couldn't get the reward I wanted decided not to sell
I'm moving to Cascais, and it takes time.
he cottage can stand here till it sags and needs
to be painted, too many memories we have grown old
together I need a facelift my fake tan can't cover
up the cracks.
I knock on the door two ladies outside they wanted
to buy my house for the right sum of money,
for a moment I hesitated, money is money.
Sorry, it is no longer up for sale and my little house
breathed again.
Chris Slade Apr 2021
She was provocative,
a slapper, all botox, **** and tats.
Lived life on the edge.
Never showed her nicer side
always wanting a bigger, better wedge!

She met her latest bloke on-line,
a bouncer from the pool.
Got a Phd in fighting *****…scrapping!
Never let ‘em see you’re rattled
just moody, muscly, strapping.

They make a handsome pair
she with her scraped back
Grimsby facelift; tight hair, nose ring, tongue stud.
Him? A tattooed tear on his cheek
straight back, full height, flex; thinks he’s looking good.

‘Cut along dotted line’…dot-dash inked around his neck.
If your name’s not down you’re not comin’ in
But if you’re a looker - well, what the heck?
I run the door - In fact I run the place,
always prepared to be persuaded by a pretty little face.

Wages don’t add up to much so, punters’ll oblige
got a nice line in scanning cards, cloning, fakin’
and spending other people’s money on ‘out’ that I can sell.
The job dun’t pay that much you see, so what the hell?
Claiming? What if I am? Any road - how could you tell?

We make a tidy sum, the two of us, just the same
and if we need some extra there’s allus 'the game'.
We love each other right enough a match that suits us both.
but we drift into ‘***** and fleece’ to score a few more quid.
It’s a sordid, morbid low, low life - when you lift the lid.

He turns..."You want some mate? Nah!… I didn’t think you did!"
Donall Dempsey Apr 2019
"OK GUYS...TAKE 5!"

coffee break
Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs
play strip poker

Snow White smirks
removes her hairband & an earring
7 naked little men

Goldilocks & The Three Bears
nipping outside for a ***
take a long( ahhhhhh )slow drag

B.B. Wolf and de Pigs
have a quick one
down at their local

Sleeping Beauty
cuddles up to Cinderella
who needs fellas?

Rapunzel
1.30 app. at hairdressers
she gets a bob

Rumpelstiltskin
does his Ali impression
"What's my name...what's my name!"

Wicked Witch
gets another facelift
from Doc Mirror

the Magic Mirror
picks the winner
the 2.30 at the Curragh

the Little Tin Soldier & his ballerina
jiving to Jordan's
THERE AIN'T NOBODY HERE BUT US CHICKENS!

the Little Mermaid
has a foot massage
"Oh me legs are killing me!"

the Ugly Duckling
sitting by himself
in a corner of the canteen

the siren goes
"Ok...ok...places...please!"
they idle back to their respective pages

the book opens
the illustrations smile
at the reader's eyes
Annie Jan 20
I want you to peel off my skin
**** brisket off my bones
wear a veil of my clanging
twined nerves, hold my
still heart in your hands 
and sink your teeth in
​ gasping and pulse again
build a boat from my bones and 
sail it across a river of my speaking
 
Untwine my brain from the snap of 
my spine into one long scarf and 
tear it in half until you’ve made confetti
I want to enjoy it.
I remember when March wore me
like an old pair of jeans ( tribe, 2019)
but last year seems like this year looks,
old and haggard.

Where is this new age?

I don't want
Draylon
I want
Revlon
and
Balenciaga
want to ride in a Porche
not an Astra and
need a Rolex
not a Timex,

March?
I can barely crawl,
I need an airlift
a stairlift, but
a facelift will do.

— The End —