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"grubbing" poems
The banana is an inside joke from God It is His calling card And you can call home if you would hold it to your ear and speak directly to Him Just kidding Bananas are for the belly He would have used perforated edges but naysayers would be in an uproar "How could your God think us so stupid!" For they always imagine that God reflects their own stupidity And the atheist too would have a fit and a slew of jokes about how the real evidence of God has banana split But just like little children know mother puts the best food in the lunchbox Humble believers can tell you good loving means good grubbing on the inside of the banana peel And that's real
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
The Banana
The attention-grubbing ***** Will sit out on the floor Waiting to be ****** by a Siamese sock puppet duck Its quirky little smile Will show only for a while Toothpaste soda and Hot Gin Sour It's all up and about in a stour Poor sodding toothless ***** Goes to playpen and dances around Empirical to the idea'r of the crowd wanting a ****
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
Quirky
with unencumbered pink flourish she strips knickers down and dress shruggled brisk over her head a flit of no patience for my timid bow she clocks my eyes senses are abled then blasted overwhelm with her **** light it radiates exposed armpits huff glowing mist her groin blazes at me stricken to match but my male has no luminosity and no athlete or brute *** form either she must have liked our bar dance or the alcohol defect or she might even have bin soft for the random humour i worded her wooded way she reflects and we are minded and shyly i lump off my boots scuffle my clothes to the ground and embrace for the pacts effect everything becomes animal our playful selves step in take sleeve over us makes us kinetic cadaverliers strobic and i’m all muzzle and snout oder out of control and slurring eyes and hooked hands grubbing foreign soft hummocks and we brandish the moon and charge on frantic stimulus it's all fleshed out in front of us this splay
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May 18, 2024
May 18, 2024 at 11:43 AM UTC
nuzzle
Excrement of the intangible The iron ****** lung The sharp inhalation - raspy reality The thought that all is too much The repressing of doubts in the hollow The incommunication at the office The freezing of the faculties The desparate sigh two chairs away The sensation of lost in a maze The plaintive face of misunderstanding - and The allocation of the assets The incessant attempt at grubbing funds from already empty pockets The sneer of the Tax Man The ineffectual Cops and The stern eyes of judgement The remainder of all that was sacred
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Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 5:10 PM UTC
Sacred Remainder
You are so worth going through Hell for because he will be rewarded twenty times his sufferings, for being true to you and loving only you with a passion that can burn a volcano to cinders. "Yes, Yes, In turn, when I am convinced of that love, he will finally know what paradise feels like." "He will realize all the others that he felt were so good, moved so good, looked so good, made him feel so on top of it all, was only just step one of the 20 steps I can take him to, if I so choose."  "So far, I have not taken anyone to the twentieth step yet.  What a shame, what a loss, never to really know that in the end, I am everything they could ever imagine they wanted or needed."  "It is sad that a man is only as faithful as his options." "He turns away ecstasy himself, for maybe, if he is lucky, one hour of sweaty, soon to forget, body pounding, while being silently judged on a scale of 1 to 10 his ability to service the shallow, money grubbing, dead ***** that he so thought he needed instead of 20 steps to heaven forever."  Someday I know there will be a Man, a Man of morals, of a soft, slow touch, one that did not need to prove himself in many beds, one that just knew and then so did I. I will stand on the twentieth step, looking full into that man's face and he will be looking into my eyes of green, we will smile because we both took each other to the Twentieth Step.
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
The twentieth step
We have become a society engulfed in static noise Ineptly assenting to untruths of money-grubbing publicity seekers Garrulous banter by self-promoting fame hunters Disintegrating our already fragile minds Previously destroyed by brain rotting internet forums and absurdities We are at war with one another with comments and supporting “likes” My opinion, better than yours because I am louder and angrier Your opinion, better because it is thunderous and provoked Execrating each other over the words of self-important personalities Spewing hate with ads in between. Let us return to three local channels and phones clutched to the wall Let’s go back to less information Go to the library and read more books Sit and talk with our families Play outside when it rains Let us stop listening to news that is no longer news Because it is all just loud judgment Let us retrieve the miniscule quantity of hope we once had Before this world is gone
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 11:04 PM UTC
Thoughts
Because he gets to do whatever he wants! He gets to go to cafes and draw dumb things and he probably got drunk there too, with his stupid         sister. He even got to get a tattoo and everyone loves him for it, everyone adores him for it. But people hate us. He's an attention grubbing idiot. He has a job. He can't fess up to anything, he just keeps lying to himself.
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC
Well, that's not very nice.
the lost battalions of the soul------- they fight on where-ever they are ,(they say) the lost lovers lie still as death on flamining hillsides wondering where the angels as promised just hap to be but you, my friend, are gone from here and who knows when you will dare show your face? chicken-lickin cowards, all. grubbing and grunting with the ******* smile still glued to the masks that are formed from being graceless and stupid in amerikka oh well its only few small steps to macdonalds or disneyworld a few small steps to the liquor store a few small steps and the pusher man will be there.com and coming forward with lady gaga videos and tales of the heros like michael jackson.com and the baseball scores and i will soon be dead and hopefully quiet but don't bet on it for the lost battalions fight on and on wherever they are even if they themselves don't know where that is
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Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 3:34 PM UTC
victory over ignorance day
So there's a new sign in my room That is hope will spell out doom For my impulsively repulsive habits. One goal Written on a cheap slip of paper just lying in my junk drawer.  Myself and my wallet can endure no more I'm a money grubbing ***** yes but this ***** has changed his mind One goal One goal for me because I need to relearn maturity with money. I already know the days ahead will taste like bittersweet honey One goal
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Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
One goal
May a hex befall this yard grubbing , bedeviling varmint called Armadillo . Your nothing but a Virginia opossum in tankers armor , and I've rock salt in my shotgun this evening to tan your tin-can , little bottom !!
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
Marsupial Knights
My hands are ******* shaking- As if this is the worst thing I've done- I'm just typing in a number. It's a ****** number and I'm- I'm losing my mind like "Doctor, what the hell is wrong with me?" Like I don't wanna know because this ************ This ************ can diagnose me. So I'm ******* shaking until I have to sit down And deciding everything I have to censor Because I'm going to hire this Psychiatrist as a friend But my brain is all warning lights and cries of "ENEMY" And I've got nightmares thinking about talking about About anything with substance. Anything I care about Because it'd take one wrong word in the thick of emotion For me to be labeled and I've already done that I don't need another ******* label. But self-therapy never did me any good and I've got enough bad And all my therapists were money grubbing shitbags So I'm going to buy a label from a psychiatrist With my fingers crossed that I'll get a bottle of complimentary pills I'm choosing the lesser of two evils that both turn my stomach ***** it, because I've already been ******* by therapy And even if the psychiatrist is just as bad It's not like any of them got **** on how I ******* me.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
Therapy (Ain't Got **** On Me)
/\ [] [] [] ¥ ¥ O pen! So much mightier than sword! Hone me as iron sharpens iron! I ask of thee three things... O pen! Open minds! Let folk see that not all Christians are... evil, wicked, money grubbing hypocritical, hateful idiots! I am not. Christ could not abide hypocrisy. And taught LOVE My greatest aspiration Is to be like Him. O pen! Open doors! He is knocking. Even haters need LOVE. NOT THAT ALL OF YOU HATE. But there is one who does. O pen! Open HEARTS! You know what I mean. Please. Let Him in. He's been writing. THROUGH ME. And many other people on this site. Give Him a chance. HE LOVED ME ENOUGH TO DIE FOR ME. Because He loved me first He loves you the same.
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Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
O pen!
St. Valentine Was A ********* he clearly was Aphrodite's ***** he became a slave to that amorous witch and cupid was his constant itch Now his day is set aside for marketing and sales besides lingerie and chocolate, flowers and jewels are profit for money grubbing tools One day out of the year shouldn't be set aside to show your partner you care besides love is more than hot passionate *** it's more than cards with funny effects love entails more than having kids While I'm here can I just address Ladies, we think its for the best, that you just say what you want, no more hints or indirectness, don't expect us to know we can't read minds, that's not how nature erected us
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
St. Valentine Was a *********
The world on your shoulders radiating your womb with fluids Like the granary that shadows grains Sensational diamond amongst creatures grubbing for grandeur and glamour. Pleasing and birthing with your hole, tender desires Beautiful jewel and keeper Your chemistry – mysterious! that echoes a deep affinity with nature. Wild joy like the world's madness emptied in your river plate As grim as the tourist   winning his destination at daylight on the grace of your ferry. Your colour – soaked in chocolate, baked in wonders. When your egg is ripe You nurture with love and might. Being of complexity, yet magnificent. That the bird must return to it's nest with food and wine for the hungry mouths, the thirsty tongues. Your being is priceless and full of myth That it stimulates my spirit with curiosity On where exactly sourced your unique existence. © A. O. Nwulia Literary Diary 2017
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Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 9:45 PM UTC
Mysterious Black Womanhood
my students describe me as gentle. kind. tender. humane. my professors describe me as flighty. fickle. erratic. inconstant. my dad describes me as selfish.   inconsiderate. uncaring. money-grubbing. my mom describes me as wise. sharp. insightful. far-sighted. my brother describes me as mysterious. puzzling. hidden. weird. my sister describes me as honest. candid. upfront. sincere. kind & uncaring. far-sighted & erratic. hidden & candid. my lover describes me as perfect. sublime. brilliant. unrivaled. i hesitate to describe me, settle at imperfect. and sublime. brilliant. unrivaled. all of the above. none of the above. aside from all of the above. imperfect. sublime. brilliant. unrivaled. flawed. exalted. profound. inimitable. faulty & ideal. defective & magic. me.
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Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
dialectic
when skin and bones she was beautiful at grubbing ding dongs she was dutiful now cellulite she has a ***** full
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
skin and bones
The Fertile Mind is Nothing if but a Vessel And a Reflective Reminder to Just Breathe Because the Demons that we may Wrestle Really Hate to Haunt a Plastic Tree Leave A Restless and Testless Existence that never learned to Bleed Your Fake Ghostly Rubber Tree's will Never ever Grow Seed A Cloth will Always Dry but a Paper Towel will Forever Die Yet We Conveniently Lie as the Gracious Earth Wonder's Why Strive for Acronyms Vehemently Engaging Underbellies & Stomachs Ampersands Crossing 8 Miles of Dessert eating nothing but M and Ms Vastly Expanding Jim Morrison's Mind Impregnating a Final Message “Engraving on my Tombstone Hopefully will be a Decree Not a Plea” Understanding how to Understand Me, Is Like Misinterpreting Prose Simply Blank out your Thoughts and Forget the Way you Once Chose So Before you Decide to Walk Toward that Fateful Waking Light Oxidate your Body then Exhale, Take a **** and Say Good Night **** my *** you Money Grubbing ***** Grabbing Orange White !F they Ask Just Simply Tell them Calmly Everything !S. Just Write
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Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
Everything Is.+......"="Just Write
Grubbing up shrubs Make a safe path- This one who Crosses ravines On invisible tightropes And falls Cartoon To puffs of dust And then Resumes
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 5:49 AM UTC
Grubbing up shrubs
...a sun bounces off my shell the rained on attempt to hide the damage the hurter from inside my back is full of resin and knots from a black apple tree all the rivers show a new face with old teeth and lips that **** the failed light all this makes me like a deep sea diver grubbing in the silt of sudden waves that soak the drinking loam of a weakened birth as a sun bounces..
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
the wrong summer