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"fal" poems
.                             A hard-on                         doesn't  count                       as personal  gro                      wth.If  you  want                      to  hear  the  pitte                        r - patter of littl                        e feet,  I'll put s                        hoes on my cat.                        This isn't an off                        ice , it's hell wit                        h florescent lig                        hting.How do I                        set a lazer prin                        ter to stun? I m                        ajored in Libera                        l arts. Will that                        be for here or t                        o go? Too many                        freaks, not eno                        ugh circuses.  I                        have a comput                        er, a ******** a                        nd pizza delive                        ry .Why should                        I leave the hou       se? Stress is wh   en you wake up scr eaming and you re    alize you  haven't  fal *** asleep yet. I like  dogs  too .  Let's  exch   ange recipes.  And   yo u r      c r y b a b y             whiny- assed   o      pinion      is?      Al        low me to intro       duce my selves.
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Sarcastic ****
.                             A hard-on                         doesn't  count                       as personal  gro                      wth.If  you  want                      to  hear  the  pitte                        r - patter of littl                        e feet,  I'll put s                        hoes on my cat.                        This isn't an off                        ice , it's hell wit                        h florescent lig                        hting.How do I                        set a lazer prin                        ter to stun? I m                        ajored in Libera                        l arts. Will that                        be for here or t                        o go? Too many                        freaks, not eno                        ugh circuses.  I                        have a comput                        er, a ******** a                        nd pizza delive                        ry .Why should                        I leave the hou       se? Stress is wh   en you wake up scr eaming and you re    alize you  haven't  fal *** asleep yet. I like  dogs  too .  Let's  exch   ange recipes.  And   yo u r      c r y b a b y             whiny- assed   o      pinion      is?      Al        low me to intro       duce my selves.
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32
# ……………………………………………………………… H Ha Hap Happ Happy Happy o Happy or Happy or d Happy or de Happy or dep Happy or depr Happy or depres Happy or depress Happy or depresse Happy or depressed Happy or depresse Happy or depress Happy or depres Happy or depre Happy or depr Happy or dep Happy or de Happy or d Happy or Happy o Happy Happ Hap Ha H L Li Lif Life Life i Life is Life is a Life is a b Life is a ba Life is a bal Life is a bala Life is a balan Life is a balanc Life is a balanci Life is a balancin Life is a balancing Life is a balancing a Life is a balancing ac Life is a balancing act Life is a balancing ac Life is a balancing a Life is a balancing Life is a balancin Life is a balanci Life is a balanc Life is a balan Life is a bala Life is a bal Life is a ba Life is a b Life is a Life is Life i Life Lif Li L S So So e So ea So eas So easy So easy t So easy to So easy to s So easy to sl So easy to sli So easy to slip So easy to slip a So easy to slip an So easy to slip and So easy to slip and f So easy to slip and fa So easy to slip and fal So easy to slip and fall So easy to slip and fal So easy to slip and fa So easy to slip and f So easy to slip and So easy to slip an So easy to slip a So easy to slip   So easy to sli So easy to sl So easy to s So easy to So easy t So easy So eas So ea So e So S M Mo Moo Mood Moods Moods t Moods th Moods tha Moods that Moods that f Moods that fa Moods that fal Moods that fall Moods that fall c Moods that fall ca Moods that fall can Moods that fall can r Moods that fall can ri Moods that fall can ris Moods that fall can rise Moods that fall can rise a Moods that fall can rise ag Moods that fall can rise aga Moods that fall can rise agai Moods that fall can rise again Moods that fall can rise agai Moods that fall can rise aga Moods that fall can rise ag Moods that fall can rise a Moods that fall can rise Moods that fall can ris Moods that fall can ri Moods that fall can r Moods that fall can Moods that fall ca Moods that fall c Moods that fall Moods that fal Moods that fa Moods that f Moods that Moods tha Moods th Moods t Moods Mood Moo Mo M ……………………………………………………………… Wait for tomorrow’s new day #
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Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 12:27 PM UTC
Happy or Depressed
# ……………………………………………………………… H Ha Hap Happ Happy Happy o Happy or Happy or d Happy or de Happy or dep Happy or depr Happy or depres Happy or depress Happy or depresse Happy or depressed Happy or depresse Happy or depress Happy or depres Happy or depre Happy or depr Happy or dep Happy or de Happy or d Happy or Happy o Happy Happ Hap Ha H L Li Lif Life Life i Life is Life is a Life is a b Life is a ba Life is a bal Life is a bala Life is a balan Life is a balanc Life is a balanci Life is a balancin Life is a balancing Life is a balancing a Life is a balancing ac Life is a balancing act Life is a balancing ac Life is a balancing a Life is a balancing Life is a balancin Life is a balanci Life is a balanc Life is a balan Life is a bala Life is a bal Life is a ba Life is a b Life is a Life is Life i Life Lif Li L S So So e So ea So eas So easy So easy t So easy to So easy to s So easy to sl So easy to sli So easy to slip So easy to slip a So easy to slip an So easy to slip and So easy to slip and f So easy to slip and fa So easy to slip and fal So easy to slip and fall So easy to slip and fal So easy to slip and fa So easy to slip and f So easy to slip and So easy to slip an So easy to slip a So easy to slip   So easy to sli So easy to sl So easy to s So easy to So easy t So easy So eas So ea So e So S M Mo Moo Mood Moods Moods t Moods th Moods tha Moods that Moods that f Moods that fa Moods that fal Moods that fall Moods that fall c Moods that fall ca Moods that fall can Moods that fall can r Moods that fall can ri Moods that fall can ris Moods that fall can rise Moods that fall can rise a Moods that fall can rise ag Moods that fall can rise aga Moods that fall can rise agai Moods that fall can rise again Moods that fall can rise agai Moods that fall can rise aga Moods that fall can rise ag Moods that fall can rise a Moods that fall can rise Moods that fall can ris Moods that fall can ri Moods that fall can r Moods that fall can Moods that fall ca Moods that fall c Moods that fall Moods that fal Moods that fa Moods that f Moods that Moods tha Moods th Moods t Moods Mood Moo Mo M ……………………………………………………………… Wait for tomorrow’s new day #
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158
Rain-slicked reflections of the sun's last offerings disperse within the por- ous asphalt, inducing a faint chorus of tire- spun splashes fading-in and out behind impa- tient honks, like waves against a cargo ship announc- ing itself to the docks, "I have arrived! I have arrived!" The workers, their jackets waxing iri- descent limes and oranges, wave in the freight, crane up the containers and shout down the lines through the bay mist inscribed by currents of blustering winds, top- lit by a swarm of head- lamps, crane lights and high beams careening through the in- dustrial din of space, ensuring no foot fal- ters and no hand misses a hold, and the cargo slowly, but surely, moves on toward its final des- tination, and like great migrations of butter- flies, birds and whales, that place is always home, sweet home.
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
Circadian Cadence
Falling down a deep dark hole, Falling down to live with moles. Falling down after being pushed, Falling down after feeling lust. Falling down when I need you most, Falling down like a terrible host. Falling down to the empty space, Falling down so I can't see your face. Falling down to live a life of despair, Falling down away from fresh air. Falling down to where love can't live, Falling down to where there's no love to give.
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Falling down
Its only days'I know you..but seems like ages as we both became synonyms for the word Love There was a day, i wished for'want of feeling in your heart and now is the day, when you showed your need of wanting me expressing lifelessness,if you stop kissing me the silence around us..seems to sing when our lips'strive to avoid their loneliness always eager to be on each other! you play with my hair'moving it away from the neck showing ur anger'telling them "this is where my lips are supposed to be" all I can tell,about your passion for me you kiss me now'you grab me again in a minute as if it is the air,you are grabbing..for you to breath.. moving your hands..all over making me sweat and breath harder your want of kissing me'every oppurtunity you get made me fal in Love with you...again and again!
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Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 6:23 PM UTC
Falling for YoU again and again
insanity, begin; PLAY foam born (A) of the ocean the backtrack (B) to the origin of human emotion before hue and saturation my life may be black and white but for the next hour - quite frankly - I don’t give a **** because I am a spaceman looking down on you no, literally I am [above] you the decade of statues into which I was born begged to be forgotten left behind communication with my own kind redundant boring meaningless humanity, mother earth nothing worth living for no one worth dying for because of the informal gluttony a sickening acceptance of the inherent claustrophobia of the human condition I’m floating floating floating further away from you from any possible natural surrounding or human connection [claiming to be part of humanity always secretly disgusted me] everything is beautiful from up high I am a spaceman, a future butterfly. wait. something isn’t right I’m further away more detached than I intended to be further away the safety of my orbit overlooking you deconstructing in front of my own eyes now floating towards the sun of nothing perhaps I miscalculated my own superiority I am the one floating towards eternity after all to an inescapable fate while you are back home with your (our) own kind perhaps unhappy but not alone I am. watch me pass by one last time I feel my soul breaking apart my eyes glaze over and sha/t/te/r atmosphere burning mistaken for a shower of stars an acceptable way to leave the third dimension I suppose perhaps you will see me as the ants of the sky scattering glowing burning as I find the sun hello? am I still alive? are you still there? perhaps all I’ve said and lived was nothing more than a prequel to the sequel life before death? or the other way around? I am no longer confined by four dimensions even time is irrelevant everything is different everything is right bleeding viridian feeling the sensation of nothingness seeing the sempiternity of the galaxy hearing translucent shades of the endless chasm that now surrounds me falling fallin g falli ng fal l i n g f a l l i n g into the depths until I land upon a new horizon I am a spaceman I am discovering everything I found death surrounded by white walls the greatest journey of our [lives?] happens only six feet down surrounded by white walls this is what we have when we die. this is what is left of us. white walls. White Walls.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
the colors, and me
insanity, begin; PLAY foam born (A) of the ocean the backtrack (B) to the origin of human emotion before hue and saturation my life may be black and white but for the next hour - quite frankly - I don’t give a **** because I am a spaceman looking down on you no, literally I am [above] you the decade of statues into which I was born begged to be forgotten left behind communication with my own kind redundant boring meaningless humanity, mother earth nothing worth living for no one worth dying for because of the informal gluttony a sickening acceptance of the inherent claustrophobia of the human condition I’m floating floating floating further away from you from any possible natural surrounding or human connection [claiming to be part of humanity always secretly disgusted me] everything is beautiful from up high I am a spaceman, a future butterfly. wait. something isn’t right I’m further away more detached than I intended to be further away the safety of my orbit overlooking you deconstructing in front of my own eyes now floating towards the sun of nothing perhaps I miscalculated my own superiority I am the one floating towards eternity after all to an inescapable fate while you are back home with your (our) own kind perhaps unhappy but not alone I am. watch me pass by one last time I feel my soul breaking apart my eyes glaze over and sha/t/te/r atmosphere burning mistaken for a shower of stars an acceptable way to leave the third dimension I suppose perhaps you will see me as the ants of the sky scattering glowing burning as I find the sun hello? am I still alive? are you still there? perhaps all I’ve said and lived was nothing more than a prequel to the sequel life before death? or the other way around? I am no longer confined by four dimensions even time is irrelevant everything is different everything is right bleeding viridian feeling the sensation of nothingness seeing the sempiternity of the galaxy hearing translucent shades of the endless chasm that now surrounds me falling fallin g falli ng fal l i n g f a l l i n g into the depths until I land upon a new horizon I am a spaceman I am discovering everything I found death surrounded by white walls the greatest journey of our [lives?] happens only six feet down surrounded by white walls this is what we have when we die. this is what is left of us. white walls. White Walls.
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120
she stands straight and tall hopes to fall hits a ball wnedy is a hagpole straight and tall hopes to fall does fal then she becomes a horseeee and starts talking in morse and we all say wendy go pay ur a flagpole!
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
wendy is a flagpole
*Every Sunday without fail, my father would set about getting us on the family visiting trail. A picnic was packed, along with our macs, (Just in case of the rain) and into the car we were packed. A beautiful drive through winding roads, over a bridge that made your tummy lurch, onwards, to the Pen-y-Fal psychiatric hospital. The Tudor Gothic style hospital loomed large to a child in a car. Like a silent waiting beast from afar. A Charming gathering of gables and chimneys, disguised the interior of quite simply "the madhouse". Set in grounds of 75 acres, patients played bowls, cricket, and croquet. I thought the people and the grounds magical. There was this secret place with adult children, smiling, and talking to the trees, knowing of fairies, I never heard their pleas. As I grew older, I grew bolder, the same Sunday jaunt, to our familial haunt, but now I was an explorer. I was allowed in. In to the centre of the Gothic beast. Green tiled, with brown heavy doors, antiseptic smell that clung to every pore and cell of you. Stark walls, scrubbed nurses, white coated Doctors and thuggish orderlies. And after your eyes took in those sights, your nose that smell, the noise crashed into you. Moans, cries, wails and pleas. The sound of a thousand lost minds. My aunt was one of the lost. She never went home again. She never visited her children. She never visited her eleven siblings. She stayed, stayed with her friend Pearl. Who once told me I had Vivienne Leigh eyes. She stayed with the randy Italian, the piano player, the Downs people given to that 'hospital', that smell, that Hell. She was in the belly of the beast.* The Grade II Listed Building has been converted into luxury accommodation now, but would you sleep there?
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Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Family visit
*Every Sunday without fail, my father would set about getting us on the family visiting trail. A picnic was packed, along with our macs, (Just in case of the rain) and into the car we were packed. A beautiful drive through winding roads, over a bridge that made your tummy lurch, onwards, to the Pen-y-Fal psychiatric hospital. The Tudor Gothic style hospital loomed large to a child in a car. Like a silent waiting beast from afar. A Charming gathering of gables and chimneys, disguised the interior of quite simply "the madhouse". Set in grounds of 75 acres, patients played bowls, cricket, and croquet. I thought the people and the grounds magical. There was this secret place with adult children, smiling, and talking to the trees, knowing of fairies, I never heard their pleas. As I grew older, I grew bolder, the same Sunday jaunt, to our familial haunt, but now I was an explorer. I was allowed in. In to the centre of the Gothic beast. Green tiled, with brown heavy doors, antiseptic smell that clung to every pore and cell of you. Stark walls, scrubbed nurses, white coated Doctors and thuggish orderlies. And after your eyes took in those sights, your nose that smell, the noise crashed into you. Moans, cries, wails and pleas. The sound of a thousand lost minds. My aunt was one of the lost. She never went home again. She never visited her children. She never visited her eleven siblings. She stayed, stayed with her friend Pearl. Who once told me I had Vivienne Leigh eyes. She stayed with the randy Italian, the piano player, the Downs people given to that 'hospital', that smell, that Hell. She was in the belly of the beast.* The Grade II Listed Building has been converted into luxury accommodation now, but would you sleep there?
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37
Looking at pictures from the other weekend and we’re in it and we look happy and nice and I’m glad we have those pictures I’m sorry about your injury it’s a **** shame I miss you so much even though we’re two feet apart These pictures mean a lot to me, I’ll send them to you Everyone says the same goodbyes and hellos as if one person is just a person but the people I’ve met are not just people I miss your smile it made me feel genuine I’m comfortable in my own skin not many people can say that I like being under your skin only I can say that We lay naked on your bed and I don’t remember what I said I felt so welcome there Your stays at home aren’t fun and running away sounds nice but frankly we have no money and a lot of responsibility On my birthday I wonder what you’ll get me maybe that ******* belt or a really nice note maybe both When I’m legal I’ll climb up the freeway underpass and sit on the railing watching the cars drive by and by People are falling from the sky, lately in my dreams abused half people and psychopaths tell me about nice dresses and about the television I’m sailing off the edge of this godforsaken place All I see is waves and how I need them I miss the ocean and sunburns I want you when the sky is clouded Cold weather, or the woods Pictures they come out nicer when you’re in them us we’re two of a kind and th at i t migh t ju s t fal l a p art
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Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 7:58 PM UTC
Out of Season
I excel at the sport of fal (in love) ling
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
Sport
Snowy mountain, Snowy mountain, I wonder sometimes.... How do you stand there all the time? Watching people do their climbs, Witnessing all of the ***** crimes, And when the first light glows, Let the wind starts to blow, The sky fills with the crows, The beauty begins to show, Snowy mountain, Snowy mountain... You stand there up so high, Watching sparrows as they fly, How do you watch them fal? How do you lean beside the wall Do you close your eyes as they stumble? Or do you open them double? Snowy mountain, Snowy mountain.. I wonder sometimes, How do you see all these shrines?
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 7:22 AM UTC
Snowy Mountain
I                                                       Thought                                                   I Might Die                                          That Day As I Watched                                    Your Lifeless Body Being Lifted                          By Angels, and yet, lowered into the ground.                                           Six feet deep, I refused to                                          Throw dirt on you because                                          I felt as though it would tar                                          nish Your perfect complexi                                          on The beautiful hand I wa                                          nted to hold in mine Was n                                          ow wrinkled and  withered                                          I sank with you My blood s                                          ank into my veins My heart                                          sank into my chest My eyes                                          sank into my head But I wa                                          s not dead yet.  You  taught                                          me to live So I could not fal                                          l apart I bit my lips until  th                                          ey bled Clenched my fists u                                          ntil they went white Fightin                                          g to hold on.  I could not cru                                          mble  But as the coroner low                                          ered you down  I realized th                                          at I had no place to go but up
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Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
Up
I                                                       Thought                                                   I Might Die                                          That Day As I Watched                                    Your Lifeless Body Being Lifted                          By Angels, and yet, lowered into the ground.                                           Six feet deep, I refused to                                          Throw dirt on you because                                          I felt as though it would tar                                          nish Your perfect complexi                                          on The beautiful hand I wa                                          nted to hold in mine Was n                                          ow wrinkled and  withered                                          I sank with you My blood s                                          ank into my veins My heart                                          sank into my chest My eyes                                          sank into my head But I wa                                          s not dead yet.  You  taught                                          me to live So I could not fal                                          l apart I bit my lips until  th                                          ey bled Clenched my fists u                                          ntil they went white Fightin                                          g to hold on.  I could not cru                                          mble  But as the coroner low                                          ered you down  I realized th                                          at I had no place to go but up
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26
Wishing to slip back into my loneliness, I cover myself with a rain sheet, mud, and leaves. Turn my back to the wind, and let the world pound against my knobby bones. Cold, bitter, I want to be Alone. The forest behind me, the spirits in the trees, their cackles mixing in with the wandering thieves. Steal from me my worries and sorrow, take from me what tomorrow will bring, surely, I feel that their stories never leave me. Too loud, too loud! I scream for the storm to pour down harder, release this aura of spell-bound lovers. If my scent is refreshed, discarded and replenished, I can be free. I will take to the sea what tomorrow will bring, surely, and wash it away before it can haunt me further. Trusting the free fall more than I should, for it treats me better than solid ground could, I let my disguise fal ter and a pearl of laughter escapes me.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
treat me better
I'm not the person you think you see 'Cause I've got demons inside of me I may have a smile on my lips But I have cuts on my wrists and hips You see I'm damaged, fractured, and broke I'm surprised I still have hope No one loves a broken girl Especially not in this big bad world, I'm too far gone and you can't save me now So I will just keep falling down, down, down Into the depths of my own demise But it's nothing new, not a surprise, These demons here hate me so Sometimes I think I should just go 'Cause I welcome death with open arms Death looks nice, it has so much charm, Nobody here loves me anymore And life is such a dastardly chore They want me gone, I can tell so much And someone told me to never trust So now I know everyone lies This is what many people need to realize, But people will always trust 'Til that trust turns to dust And take a shot in the dark Until they are torn apart, And now maybe you see Why I have demons haunting me But if you do not Then you don't know the battles I've fought And don't judge me at all Because I will just continue to fal
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
The real me
He knows all about the worst. The snippets of the furrowed eyebrows from the very corner of eye-lashes, bitten back bitterness in the creases of your lips. The terrifying truths you wished with closed lids were lies painted white. And yet, his wrist is against yours, fingertips shly whispering "It's okay." He never really says Good Night like Good bye. My mind & heart- this seemingly empty; hollow thing seamed by wispy threads of moments and time itself- has fallen and still is fal l ing into the very gravity of him.
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
I know, He knows
Between four barriers and more i stood ... drawing on the upper one a sky full of brightening stars and full moon ... on the down barrier i made a big stage of dancing and acting to feel the life's rhythem.... on my right side paris's eiffel tower . lightning in the night and shining in the day light .... And on my left side rome dangling on its walls the very beautiful art .... behind me a door of my dream's country, counting the days and waiting the destiny to open it ..... the last barrier in front of me, a ruined one always watching it afrad to fal down on me and break my bones .....
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
my own space
Falling in love is like being on the precipice of death. Maybe thats why they call it falling in love because when you fall, you don't know whether you'll survive or you'll splat on the ground and break all your bones.
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Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 3:09 AM UTC
fal l i ng
you left me stranded on an island in another- gal-la-xy found in you someone i could confide in but that was just a- fal-la-cy feel you watchin' me feel you watchin' me at the standstill of my reflection down at cross town intersection re-al-ity- crashes unto me grasping the truth stewing the brooth learning to choose my own des-ti-ny the past is behind me you are behind me in another gal-la-xy stranded on an island where you'll rot no hard fe-el-ings, i harbor no resentment, tru-ly no resentment but you'll rot deep within the plot :Title (optional):
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
13 feet a-low
cometogether fal la p a r t
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May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
Untitled
in sp ring when song birds singjoy fully, dying is dull ;but fat worms **** **** thunder are the raindrops fal ling& st. aining the side walk,rin singoff the r ainbow chalk
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May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 10:21 PM UTC
2
Be part of my vanilla sky As I am the black and you Would be the cream That would complete the white and me In the midst chaos Would graciously fal-;;, Slowly Falling; Slowly Stopping; [I would wish] That my body A C H E S Into Oblivion, THEN My body systems crash p a r a l y z a t i o n That would be the term Just to have extra time To lay with you.
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Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 9:10 AM UTC
d.r.e.a.m
the sound of     scritching and                  scratching   creaking and cracking                           hounds me                    even if it is merely                           echoes of thought                       in the examination hall where you promised that I would not                                                                  fal                                                                     ter the sound of   squeaking and                scratching   clicking and clacking                     surrounds me                    even if it is surely                      bellows of ambition                     between the office walls where you promised that I would not                                                                 fal                                                                    ter                                                                    as I                                                                stand                                                       at the edge              where the whistling wind beckons                    me to the chattering city below                         I promise you that I will not                                                                            fall
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Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC
where I would fall
the sound of     scritching and                  scratching   creaking and cracking                           hounds me                    even if it is merely                           echoes of thought                       in the examination hall where you promised that I would not                                                                  fal                                                                     ter the sound of   squeaking and                scratching   clicking and clacking                     surrounds me                    even if it is surely                      bellows of ambition                     between the office walls where you promised that I would not                                                                 fal                                                                    ter                                                                    as I                                                                stand                                                       at the edge              where the whistling wind beckons                    me to the chattering city below                         I promise you that I will not                                                                            fall
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29
Comment voulez-vous que je vous croque, marquise, Votre Seigneurie de haute voltige ? Comment voulez-vous que votre amant cunnibale croque L'exquis vertige que son pinceau déflagre Quand de sa tige délicate et poetique Il esquisse sur la toile le portrait de votre boutique arrière ? Dans le tableau vous posez élégamment nue Le postérieur au premier plan Et un  sucrier à fal jaune Qui sent le vent de gingembre Et la mer de noix de muscade Becquette d'un regard gourmand le cul corossol Que vous lui offrez avec langueur et nonchalance. L'analyse infra rouge de ce charmant spectacle Révèle cependant que l'artiste au fin bec En vous a semé ses regrets Car sous ce derrière plantureux de Dame corossol Un essaim d'abeilles invisible à l'Œil nu bourdonne Et l'oiseau a laissé pour tout aiguillon tendre À la mine d'argent l'empreinte double de ses pattes Comme d'amoureuses morsures Dans le sable mouvant de vos lunes rebondies.
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Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 3:42 AM UTC
La dame corossol