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"fizzy" poems
In the digital l-and We l-ive in Mistakenly automatic One pointing at a chest of tools Eyes on i No soul can tell a part a weakling metal Robots robbing robbers rich T-error terrifying t-errorists Artist gods and goddesses Sharing platform to unleashed gifts Mint hue bubbles squeak Fizzy dizzy violet haze World head to toes spins Any day it spins coins in change A quiet girl is sinister Siren of mystery or future Robot is your mirror Peach chin with teeth filter No innocence and glitter litter Guilty until proven the latter A quiet girl a terrorist Error mouths terror twist Terrorist from the orient They hide in between every end Disguises they cover in Racist as problem solving Smile girl watch A fake smile and eyes Skin of steel so is her Heart made alloy How it blazes to the touch when heated Oh it bites fingertips as it's cold Hair resting on the curve of her spine A woman's hair only breaks if it tries to grow What she said Tell me if you can tell us a part Warning tears borne from her crooked eyes Robot and soul Terrorists from t-errorists No soul knows either Tattoos or memory shall identify you
0
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
Terror in a puzzle piece
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
0
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
McDonalds
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
Continue reading...
61
I need to love I need to love I need to love my heart is too big and it doesn't stop growing and my frantic mind is never slowing I need to let it go, I need to kiss boys and kiss girls and kiss people I know, and strangers with smoky breath and hazy eyes that won't remember the way my organs go fizzy and weak when I feel them breathing, onto my neck and near my ribcage, my ribcage too close to my heart, too close too close too close I need to develop child like emotions lustful moods swinging between one person to another person - I need to let go of what's in my heart this is the only way I know how and it's killing me I need love I need real love I need fake love I need assurance I need feelings that demolish my heart send it plummeting to dust and ashes and then the love will disperse and my heart will be crushed and it will be the end and then a new night will come with new boys and new girls and new love and it will build itself back up but stronger and the muscle in my chest will release itself the chains will break the ropes will untie it is ready to love but I am not and I will feel again I will feel too much I will feel things I don't understand I will feel in ways I know far too well and my mind will no longer function in the correct way, it will not work my brain will be submissive to my heart I am scared of feeling again
0
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
my brain will be submissive to my heart and I am scared of feeling again
It drips, it teases, it moans my name, A wicked desire I cannot tame. Its scent seduces, deep and bold, Luring me closer, my senses unfold. Each bite lingers, slow and sweet, Juicy, tender, pure carnal treat. My lips embrace, my hunger sighs, A pleasure so deep, it melts, it glides. No wipes saves me, let it spill, The taste, the heat, the aching thrill. Tongue tracing every sinful trace, Savoring each indulgent embrace. And as the final drops dissolve, A fizzy burst, ecstasy evolves. A feast so perfect, craving no more, Surrender to passion, give in, explore. Choose wisely. Choose Wendy’s.
0
Mar 30, 2025
Mar 30, 2025 at 10:38 PM UTC
****** Juices
I can't support the smell of fried chicken or the taste of fries I can't stand the fizzy drinks or the muffins or the pies all this junk food they push down my throat makes me sick it slowly kills my good taste it crushes my creativity it turns me into a big fat pig I barely remember your smell only when the night is quiet and the moon shines in silence I can recall the taste of Euphoria in your neck that perfume that used to light this brume and recharge my lungs that perfume that I barely remember but I miss it so much in the end all I got left is this disgusting smell of mine over that sweet fresh fragrance by Calvin Klein
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
:: Euphoria ::
You bring me good news from the clinic, Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white Mummy-cloths, smiling: I'm all right. When I was nine, a lime-green anesthetist Fed me banana-gas through a frog mask. The nauseous vault Boomed with bad dreams and the Jovian voices of surgeons. Then mother swam up, holding a tin basin. O I was sick. They've changed all that. Traveling **** as Cleopatra in my well-boiled hospital shift, Fizzy with sedatives and unusually humorous, I roll to an anteroom where a kind man Fists my fingers for me. He makes me feel something precious Is leaking from the finger-vents. At the count of two, Darkness wipes me out like chalk on a blackboard. . . I don't know a thing. For five days I lie in secret, Tapped like a cask, the years draining into my pillow. Even my best friend thinks I'm in the country. Skin doesn't have roots, it peels away easy as paper. When I grin, the stitches tauten. I grow backward. I'm twenty, Broody and in long skirts on my first husband's sofa, my fingers Buried in the lambswool of the dead poodle; I hadn't a cat yet. Now she's done for, the dewlapped lady I watched settle, line by line, in my mirror— Old sock-face, sagged on a darning egg. They've trapped her in some laboratory jar. Let her die there, or wither incessantly for the next fifty years, Nodding and rocking and ********* her thin hair. Mother to myself, I wake swaddled in gauze, Pink and smooth as a baby.
0
5.2k
Face Lift
a future promise a hard on like bundled gym socks in stuffed blue jeans a future threat a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete she remembered fondly being beaten drum chatter and seized like slow roasted fall off the bone pulled pork ****** raggedy Ann catapulted beyond Euboean heavens ravaging scrotums Gordian ****** with her wild fiendish mouth drinking a river of haloed golden showers spit and **** in a runaway hot house of glistening pink buttery spires engorging her macerated orifices half eaten radish chocking on hordes of big do do ***** a ****** face; cross eyed Babylon abalone bashed Ashly mashed begging for a face full of swinging ***** like caped chandeliers trotting faint giggles in a constellation of ruptured arteries and thick sparked **** on her knees milk glitter faced scared with happiness she counted one smiling bruise at a time her badge of calamities black and blue silhouettes grinning invitations like party favors without a crease of shame her skin rapturous spackled patchworks bled like torrential fountains summer tide while every body had  fizzy red ice phlebotomies and steamed through her drooling tumble pie lust ***** totem house of winding labyrinths honey pumped transfusion flush on blush opera of tangled limbs red pulse wedding flowers slick ***** palace blood tongued orchard caressing knotted mooned **** spill
0
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
**** Spill
Freedom is premium priced, At the casino of the world nations throw the dice, The tables are rigged by the fat rats and mice, Girls in curvaceous miniskirts on poles entice, ***** laced drinks and cancer sticks merrily fleece, Fizzy burgers are served filled with crucified cheese, Layers of salt and blood and veins congealing with grease Are the fillings inside the consumed meat, Come to the sale of the century and let your life be diseased, Take whatever you want and still you will never be pleased, Remember, one day all will be held to account, so all evil immediately cease, Do not make the mistake to ********** the legend of glorious Hercules Or pollute and sell the message of almighty God so cheaply. ©Rangzeb Hussain
0
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 3:40 AM UTC
Sell Hercules
Open up a Can of Cream Soda Look at the delightful sight Of Fizzy Bubbles popping in the air You can't resist them with all your might Take a sip or two of Cream Soda Take a second or two as you feel Fizzy Bubbles running down your throat The perfect way to end off a meal Then you realize something shocking As soon as you have downed your last sip The Fizzy Bubbles have disappeared so quickly! Since you were thirsty from the potato chips! Wait! Don't open another bottle! Listen to what I'm about to say! Fizzy Bubbles might be fun and yummy! But you've had quite enough bubbles today!
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Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 7:08 PM UTC
Fizzy Bubbles
My soul's hot pink, like them bubble gum squares, cool, strawberry fizzy drinks, and a thick candy ice cream. Those warm, glazed over doughnuts, cupcakes with light sprinkles, jelly beans, tufts of cotton candy, and a tub of small macaroons. My soul's hot pink, like them candy hearts, sweet or **** chocolate coated easter eggs, lolipops, and sugar rocks. Those creamy cakes, fruity tastes, of gum drops, frozen pops, of sno-cones drizzled, cookie wafers, and sweet marshmallows; smoothies.
0
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Hot Pink Soul
Mountains Freshwater creeks Coach Lambert Dry Prong Basketball bus rides Old Music Latch Disclosure Orca whales Spirit Openly gay couples Church songs Windy plains Grinding at school dances Four wheelers Mr Rodriguez Cold weather Snow skiing Christmas Fir trees Canada Planet Earth Movies Fizzy Feelings
0
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Happy Challenge
I am the queen of ill fitting jeans of infected piercings, of thinking that blue is green, of uneven eyeliner wings. I am the princess of pleases of hellos slipped through voice cracks of drunken apologies of forgetting to text back. I am the countess of chaos of a thunderdome of possible tragedy of making too many plans of avoiding gravity. I am the duke of drunk texts of fizzy lemonade drinks, of lingering regret, of caring too much about what you think. I am the queen of ill fitting jeans, of ruling my life with a clumsy grace, of being a storm without tea, and I'll reign with a smile on my ******* face.
0
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
I am the queen of ill fitting jeans
Life is not a garden of fragrant flowers, Life is a chef's kitchen; Some things get burnt, Some are frozen, In the end, it all tastes well. Life is not a cycle ride down a smooth road, Life is a bumpy journey uphill; There are sharp, blind turns Plus an upward slope, But the view is magnificent. Life is not a perfect picture captured by a DSLR, Life is a photograph shot with a 1.3 megapixel camera; With no editing allowed, The sky looks blurred through it, When actually it is clear.   Life is not a cup of Starbucks coffee, Life is a glass of Coke; It is cold, Addictive at times, Mostly, fizzy and sparkling. Life is not- Seeing the glass half full. Just appreciating as is; Simply, beautiful.
0
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 9:55 AM UTC
Life is Beautiful
i was feeling thirsty so i made myself some pop when suddenly a flea in to my drink did hop swimming round in circles as dizzy as can be in my fizzy drink a dizzy flea was he then he gave a burp and jump down to the floor it really must have frightened him i never saw him anymore
0
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 3:22 PM UTC
fizzy flea
Unicorn sprinkles, Daffodils jam, A little star's twinkle And some dragon ham. Some emerald clovers, A pint of fairy dust, A handful of stover And some canned gust. Teardrops of a Selkie, Well shaken, not stirred, The horseshoe of a kelpie, Late Iron Age sherds. Some fizzy witchcraft, One bottle or two, And maybe a draught Of love potion too.
0
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 5:03 PM UTC
Shopping list
Barnacles crunch like fast food under your sneakers, my gnawed-on boots. We pass over cat-eyed shards of glass still spicy with beer bubbles and still fizzy with teen rebellion; It molds like an infection here. In a town nicknamed "Little Norway." ~ This place hoards candy-colored suburbia in its pockets. Houses like skittles weigh down its pants and it belches out tourist traps weaker than expired pepsi, yet it still manages these moments where I can trot by your gazelle legs and blast Julie Andrew's confidence. And I want to heap myself on the oyster shells, say STOP Put this moment in a snowglobe, sigh into it before we move on, do anything before the wind whips it away. Etch it into your hand if you have to. But breeze dimples the water like a golf ball and rips at the seams of the shore. Please don't forget me when you leave.
0
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 1:20 AM UTC
It's safe to say we talk about Everything
Walking down the streets of Rome, I saw a curious sight. There, sitting at an expensive street side cafe was a gentleman distinguished in age, surrounded by beautiful women, but seated next to a tiny, 30 centimeter tall ****** who was obviously crazy, or as you might say in Italian, a pazzo. My fascination overcame shyness, and I approached the man to introduce myself. To my surprise, he invited me to sit, and enjoy coffee with him. He already knew my coy curiosity, and when latte arrived he began to tell me his strange tale of wandering on the sands of Arabia. On a starry, Gethsemanean night, after supper with friends, he wandered into the acrid sands and stumbled upon an ancient lamp. He picked it up beneath the moonlight sky, and in a jestful mood rubbed it hoping to find a miracle to ease his troubles. To his surprise, a green-hue jinn, sprang forth from the ancient lips of a forgotten lamp, to grant him three wishes. Gathering wit, and wonder he pondered good fortunate short and long, before asking his wishes: "Please, mighty jinn with the light green hair, grant me fortune, so I may live the rest of my life in comfort." In a swirl of misty memories he was transported to ancient Rome and watched as random events were tilted in his favor until he sat at this cafe a powerful and rich man. Pleased with himself, he stared into twinkling jade eyes, and said: "I lounge in carefree wealth, but I cannot not buy true Beauty. Please, powerful jinn, let beautiful women surround me and tend to my needs." Once again, back to Christmas past he watched all the beautiful women of his desire being collected, and bound to one single ring of power, to serve, obey, and grant all his carnal desires. I envied him there sitting in Armani suit, with twelve pairs of sensuous legs longingly waiting upon his every wish. My fantasy of an exchanged life ended quickly with cold champagne. That crazy, diminutive pazzo, had in lunacy decided to wet everyone's dreams with real spurts of fizzy Prosecco. I turned to my host to beg a question, but he had the answer already. In tired voice, he responded, "you wonder why I keep a 30 centimeter Pazzo with me at all times?" "That was a misunderstanding he said, but you can only wish upon a jinn once." "Che cazzo!"
0
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
Pazzo!
Walking down the streets of Rome, I saw a curious sight. There, sitting at an expensive street side cafe was a gentleman distinguished in age, surrounded by beautiful women, but seated next to a tiny, 30 centimeter tall ****** who was obviously crazy, or as you might say in Italian, a pazzo. My fascination overcame shyness, and I approached the man to introduce myself. To my surprise, he invited me to sit, and enjoy coffee with him. He already knew my coy curiosity, and when latte arrived he began to tell me his strange tale of wandering on the sands of Arabia. On a starry, Gethsemanean night, after supper with friends, he wandered into the acrid sands and stumbled upon an ancient lamp. He picked it up beneath the moonlight sky, and in a jestful mood rubbed it hoping to find a miracle to ease his troubles. To his surprise, a green-hue jinn, sprang forth from the ancient lips of a forgotten lamp, to grant him three wishes. Gathering wit, and wonder he pondered good fortunate short and long, before asking his wishes: "Please, mighty jinn with the light green hair, grant me fortune, so I may live the rest of my life in comfort." In a swirl of misty memories he was transported to ancient Rome and watched as random events were tilted in his favor until he sat at this cafe a powerful and rich man. Pleased with himself, he stared into twinkling jade eyes, and said: "I lounge in carefree wealth, but I cannot not buy true Beauty. Please, powerful jinn, let beautiful women surround me and tend to my needs." Once again, back to Christmas past he watched all the beautiful women of his desire being collected, and bound to one single ring of power, to serve, obey, and grant all his carnal desires. I envied him there sitting in Armani suit, with twelve pairs of sensuous legs longingly waiting upon his every wish. My fantasy of an exchanged life ended quickly with cold champagne. That crazy, diminutive pazzo, had in lunacy decided to wet everyone's dreams with real spurts of fizzy Prosecco. I turned to my host to beg a question, but he had the answer already. In tired voice, he responded, "you wonder why I keep a 30 centimeter Pazzo with me at all times?" "That was a misunderstanding he said, but you can only wish upon a jinn once." "Che cazzo!"
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76
Marilyn Monroe (who lived next door, and swore more than anyone I know) reckoned blondes had all the fun. It didn’t seem so to me, when her old man was home. She was as glamorous as our Mum was dowdy. Her lot lived on freezer-food and fizzy, while our Mum slogged over a ****** gas-stove, and washed-up without gloves on. Marilyn Monroe told our Mum that she should fight. Our Mum gave, to Marilyn Monroe, secret recipes for dog-food stew and koi carp pie.
0
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 12:02 PM UTC
Our Mum taught Marilyn Monroe to cook.
She wanted to remain pure, unstained, unpoked. She had toyed with getting a tattoo but realised it wasn’t individual anymore. But she was in need of validation. Was she past her peak? She’s still cool right? The needle stuck into her skin like the scent of an old lover. It left a fizzy sensation behind. The ink spread. She kept poking, stabbing, stick n poking. What emerged was a star. Startled, strained by Tar, scarred, her sparkle faded.
0
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 7:22 PM UTC
Tar, My star tattoo.
Cold Diet Coke Administered intravenously Injected into my veins And fueling my anxiety. First, it was only a few Drops to keep me ready, But now it's full gallons And even that's not quenching. People always ask me, "Why push milligrams and ounces Of cold Diet Coke? It'll make you choke. After time, you'll croak. You're such a stupid bloke, Pushing Diet Coke." To this I have to say that you Are quite mistaken, sir. I only do it because I am Addicted to the tiny bubbles In my fizzy bloodstream. I know it's very dangerous, But I haven't died quite yet. I might just try some other kind To fix my upset stomach. "Zero calorie soda, Amazing as it is, Though it tastes delicious to you, Isn't healthy food. It's gonna cause an issue. You're still depressed and blue. Your face is green in hue." Again I must say you lie To steal my fleeting happiness. I need the drip, drip, dropping through My swiftly closing arteries. I don't have much time left, And I'm at Death's bright doorstep. I'm taking my final breaths, And I'm on my deathbed. I just want to tell you You made me do this. It's your fault. You're to blame. Yours is the shame. You outlive yet another son. You could've saved this one. My chances are slim to none. I approach the glistening sun As the fungus and rot outrun The weight of death o'er a ton.
0
May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC
Cold Diet Coke
A guy walks into a bar In a posh high rise hotel. He doesn't look the part, He is not a swell. He's in an off-rack suit It's not tailored silk. Orders up a drink, A tall.glass of milk. He's tall, dark and handsome, But his tie is just absurd! He's got heavy glasses, And looks just like a nerd! **Along the bar he heard a snort, And a drunkard gave a sneer, "Well, hey there kid, The school's next door, You're not allowed in here!" He laughed aloud at his own joke, And began to walk and sway, A gap appeared as nervous folk All slowly back away... The drunkard called out to the nerd, "What's wrong, kid, beer too fizzy? Or is the truth just what I heard, You're a no-good, yellow ***** The handsome man was cool, He didn't break his stride. He pushed his glasses up his nose And took the drunk aside. The enebriated idiot Looked him up and down, But followed him to the window Said, "Watchoo wan' here clown? The dark man smiled coolly. Said, "I'd like to make a wager. Just a couple thousand bucks. You know. Nothing major. I'll bet you, my drunken friend, I can jump out - but then After I'm out this window, I'll come back in again!! **The drunkard looked him up and down, And grinned an evil grin, "If you wanna JUMP,  go right ahead, This bet, I'm gonna WIN! The handsome man just Gave a wink, And jumped out on the ledge. He took one look o'r the brink, And leapt over the edge! The drunkard gasped In total shock! "My god, he must have died!!" When in a flash there came a knock The man climbed back inside! The handsome man Straightend his tie "It's time to pay your dues! Unless, of course, you'd like to try, Or are you scared you'll lose...** "Scared!?!!" The drunk was livid! "Well! I'm no chicken, friend! I accept! " And so he *lept!!! And promptly met his end.....* The tall, dark handsome person Went back to his drink. He finished his milk quietly, And tipped the keep a wink. The barkeep, looking sour, Said, "Well. More cleanup work. Superman, I like you, But sometimes you're a **** (C) Tryst (C) SoulSurvivor
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
A Guy Walks into a Bar (collaboration with Tryst)
A guy walks into a bar In a posh high rise hotel. He doesn't look the part, He is not a swell. He's in an off-rack suit It's not tailored silk. Orders up a drink, A tall.glass of milk. He's tall, dark and handsome, But his tie is just absurd! He's got heavy glasses, And looks just like a nerd! **Along the bar he heard a snort, And a drunkard gave a sneer, "Well, hey there kid, The school's next door, You're not allowed in here!" He laughed aloud at his own joke, And began to walk and sway, A gap appeared as nervous folk All slowly back away... The drunkard called out to the nerd, "What's wrong, kid, beer too fizzy? Or is the truth just what I heard, You're a no-good, yellow ***** The handsome man was cool, He didn't break his stride. He pushed his glasses up his nose And took the drunk aside. The enebriated idiot Looked him up and down, But followed him to the window Said, "Watchoo wan' here clown? The dark man smiled coolly. Said, "I'd like to make a wager. Just a couple thousand bucks. You know. Nothing major. I'll bet you, my drunken friend, I can jump out - but then After I'm out this window, I'll come back in again!! **The drunkard looked him up and down, And grinned an evil grin, "If you wanna JUMP,  go right ahead, This bet, I'm gonna WIN! The handsome man just Gave a wink, And jumped out on the ledge. He took one look o'r the brink, And leapt over the edge! The drunkard gasped In total shock! "My god, he must have died!!" When in a flash there came a knock The man climbed back inside! The handsome man Straightend his tie "It's time to pay your dues! Unless, of course, you'd like to try, Or are you scared you'll lose...** "Scared!?!!" The drunk was livid! "Well! I'm no chicken, friend! I accept! " And so he *lept!!! And promptly met his end.....* The tall, dark handsome person Went back to his drink. He finished his milk quietly, And tipped the keep a wink. The barkeep, looking sour, Said, "Well. More cleanup work. Superman, I like you, But sometimes you're a **** (C) Tryst (C) SoulSurvivor
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75
that fizzy chemical feeling wraps itself around my veins. again. again. not again. i am full of blue smoke and voracious wind voices. i am full of melancholy and still-born dreams. i miss you, there, in the mirror. you shine like forgotten sun, laugh like terrific miniature gods. i am acetylene now. i am neither human nor beast. i return to the ashes and ether from whence I came. i don’t belong here, living as a fox among the pheasants.
0
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
a fox among the pheasants
At long last summer is here, Time to lounge in the garden And then have a beer. My porch is boiling, Have opened my front door. No more Winter toiling, This sun I do adore. The bees are busy buzzing, They’ve got a lot to do. Those flowers they still are budding, And there’s a lazy-rhyme for you. Ready for your mid-year hollies? You bet I am, you say. Ice cream and lollies, You’ll soon be on your way. The beach will sure get busy, No parking on the prom. Lemonade so fizzy, Going down like a bomb. Great time for walking, Out in the countryside. Lots of time for talking Or going for a ride. My favourite cove awaits me. A time to really chill out. It really will be stress-free, Time to have a scout. Yes I really love summer, That’s all I have to say. Time to be a newcomer: I’m on my way. Paul Butters
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
Sunny Summer
*che turns in his grave and lumumba sheds a tear to think of the things they're doing these absurd modern types rebels without a cause freedom fighters with no clue what it's all about or the reason to forego all luxury till your colours flutter in the wind meanwhile all you can do is dream about pizza on a neon-lit evening a girl sitting on your lap a nonchalant scowl on your face and the inevitable fizzy a-bubbling this man who has never been oppressed spots a mane of hair done like samson's seeing my interest he puts a business card on the table: freedom fighter, the card says how different today's struggles are!*
0
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
freedom fighter with a calling card