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"gutless" poems
Something awful happened late last night, And here I lie awake at six AM Upon the sand of Santa Monica. The cars drive by, but I don’t notice them. I used up all my gas to get away From the ****** pond on my bathroom rug. It’s more than bleach can handle and I’m scared That I’ve found a more seductive drug. Fish intestines line the pier and I Feel no misery for gutless souls. The rocks are caked in birdshit, kelp and shells And, as if in mourning, the cormorant calls. Upon the rusty handrails, seagulls gossip Just like feathered girls with brains, persisting To trumpet my depravity in savage squawks, And to harass the rest of us for existing. The white-wimpled, cruel, sadistic nuns Choose an injured sea lion as their prey. Cowardly, they flee at his sharp barks– It’s guts that will decide who wins today. ***** creep over the brown-furred body. Fighting for its life, it bites the shell And kills its fellow lifeform.  When given The chance, I’ll defend myself as well.
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Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
Feather and Fang: A Study in Humanity
Heart of mine you ache ****** truth-teller be silent. As I lie here alone with my spirit flailing wildly normalcy and whatshouldbe hold a pillow and smother its breath. **** opressors they are everywhere they're in marriage and picketfence but some cellular drive made me leave you for them. I want you so physically and cry out in pain as my heart begs and pleads for the one that it loves. I need you you know me my mirrortwin, completely Never have I been so naked as I am beneath your gaze I look into a liquid reflection that adores me, ether, bone. I have simple words only now they squeeze out of me bloodied bullets I wince as I extract them my gutless runner's high of a promise of security wears off now and I notice and I notice and I notice the pistol lying comfortably in my own hand. Oh! my love! I feel I'm dying. You were beauty...... On the wind now the warm, bitter wind you are gone.
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Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
The Frailty Of The Cherry Blossom
You think it won't happen, but it does The sinking feeling, the gutless entry and You are left to fend for promises that you never Intended to keep in the first place I am coldhearted and alone and deserve nothing more Then to rot here, or there, somewhere Where your eyes won't follow my every move And when I will finally fall to my knees And cry and beg, and bleed and bleed until sore I will still not understand the price for my sins As he taunts and teases, pulls and prods At my long ago innocence, I will falter To be the girl He intended me to be Too late and too little devotion to matters of the Heart, the soul, the in between space And I am wasted and shedding the wrong skin Parts that should have been kept floating off into space
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
too late
Shrivelled Strawberries are all juiced out. The fields are to long they block out the streams. Save yourself from the grains then dropped to many blind mice. Mines a fried egg , in demand for a content Sunday morning. Existing for your touch and picture in a frame. There will be nothing left yearn for but the nest in virtual gain. Never warranted, never examined. Dripping taps and a head full of sour ***** Get born again and have the hourly flap jack. What’s the reason? Give another slip. I saw this coming, the brand new exclusive six hour clip. Loaded in a dangerous weapon of peace. Embrace the floor, thought it shallows the soles of boundless feet. Inherit the soul that squeezes. There are the strawberries in a picnic in the middle of winter. Call us callous and homeless with bitter springs. Must I follow gutless, mute kings? I ate the dinner and the news does stink. You must forgive, you must forget. This demon sinister is hell bent. No better to speak the truth. Jockey full of **** will coil, shake and drain the juice. Much love and strawberries thought the mouths are dry. Much prefer a leg of lamb. Near Apocalypse and blessed is the tinned spam.
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
StrawBerries
A desperate desperado shivering as the sun sets, casts it's silky shadows upon the hollows below. Beneath the cascading denizens of light, a puff of smoke waltzes across the December sky, a patient without his insurance with nothing left but callous empty third-person reassurance, "everything will be better" as she said. But better is always easy when your hand isn't writing the letter. Save your proverbs for an open ear, this one is half deaf and full of itself, despite your intent, your lack of action perpetuates malcontent. After all we're all just passing moments gone and forgotten, evicted, convicted of being a gutless mime, going through the motions, minus a true notion. A confused calculator short circuiting under an oil leak spitting out numbers, complicating already complicated complexities subtracting numerals adding funerals dividing families multiplying tragedies It's just a numbers game, and we can't participate we're just the studio audience, recorded live without any life. Flashing signs tell us when to laugh and when to cry, pre-determined automated messages contrived to convince. And I'm stuck spinning in the corner, with my hands on my head. Senselessly blurting out: Why?! But don't mind me, I'm just another lost soul trapped with my head in the sky.
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Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 11:59 AM UTC
A Tall, Long-necked, Spotted Ruminant
So long and overdue, The time starting askew, Everything reversing to previous, Views of simply devious, Creatures of the night, Time is now plight, Prepare the cold grounds, Enemies scorn those around, It is those weak, Who will soon peak, Top of the charts, Of deaths new art, Headless gutless warriors attest, Really trying their best, To survive and **** It takes much skill, To stomach the pain, Not letting your brain, See what is on, You are a pawn, A game called chess, Your turn to address, The move to take, Decipher who is fake, And who is real, Background their a deal, Waiting to be made, By Bankers being overpaid, While people being honest, Will all soon protest, If not soon enough, It will be tough, To stop an army, Of ignorance will be, Those who are controlled, Many do as told, What now lies ahead, Civil obedience mindless dead, Wandering the empty streets, Looking for minor threats, Yelling terrorist every corner, More for the coroner, Those who lived free, In debt free society, People traded not sold, Their time being told, To live meaningless life, Throats pressed by knifes, Told to live right, According to someone bright, As pile high **** Being full of it, This right that wrong, What happened came along, In form of kids, Passed to more kids, Information of all lies, Except select few hide, Snickering as we die, Keeping everyone under control, Knowing what is foretold, Is mostly not know, Minds are closely sewn, Together with simple lies, Mostly ignored but disguised, As nothing but truth, Just another common sleuth, Slipping between the cracks, Not aware to react, Used to being told, Not to stand bold, Against what is done, We are of one, United States of Dumb, Easily manipulated fat popularity, Contest of egocentric masculinity, Where everyone has problems, None actual solves them, Differences made to keep, Everyone nice and neat, Happy competitive argumentative discouraged, Four bowls of porridge, Hot cold just right, Fourth not in sight, In another hidden room, Your name on tomb
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Jun 5, 2010
Jun 5, 2010 at 7:33 PM UTC
Happiness Fades Into Background
So long and overdue, The time starting askew, Everything reversing to previous, Views of simply devious, Creatures of the night, Time is now plight, Prepare the cold grounds, Enemies scorn those around, It is those weak, Who will soon peak, Top of the charts, Of deaths new art, Headless gutless warriors attest, Really trying their best, To survive and **** It takes much skill, To stomach the pain, Not letting your brain, See what is on, You are a pawn, A game called chess, Your turn to address, The move to take, Decipher who is fake, And who is real, Background their a deal, Waiting to be made, By Bankers being overpaid, While people being honest, Will all soon protest, If not soon enough, It will be tough, To stop an army, Of ignorance will be, Those who are controlled, Many do as told, What now lies ahead, Civil obedience mindless dead, Wandering the empty streets, Looking for minor threats, Yelling terrorist every corner, More for the coroner, Those who lived free, In debt free society, People traded not sold, Their time being told, To live meaningless life, Throats pressed by knifes, Told to live right, According to someone bright, As pile high **** Being full of it, This right that wrong, What happened came along, In form of kids, Passed to more kids, Information of all lies, Except select few hide, Snickering as we die, Keeping everyone under control, Knowing what is foretold, Is mostly not know, Minds are closely sewn, Together with simple lies, Mostly ignored but disguised, As nothing but truth, Just another common sleuth, Slipping between the cracks, Not aware to react, Used to being told, Not to stand bold, Against what is done, We are of one, United States of Dumb, Easily manipulated fat popularity, Contest of egocentric masculinity, Where everyone has problems, None actual solves them, Differences made to keep, Everyone nice and neat, Happy competitive argumentative discouraged, Four bowls of porridge, Hot cold just right, Fourth not in sight, In another hidden room, Your name on tomb
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86
What hollow, caustic foulness lies behind the neatly edged hedges, fences, plastic window frames and glass? Resting, waiting to be woken, scream what now must not be spoken Blood-lust of a gutless middle class What simple lies must needs be told in bold authoritative tones To activate the drones and make them fight - To know, that if the call should come they'd march to that benighted drum And sacrifice intelligence for right? How big a monster must be built to shoulder guilt for every creeping fear and insecurity and loss, Till every hip and critical disclaimant finds a reason for believing and then carries it, across. How many layers must be stripped to tip the wretched shreds of indecision into morals blown apart And harmless bigot who, at work, was tolerated with a smirk Now drives a dirk into a stranger's heart? Now doctor, teacher, business leader, well-respected educated man proclaims his harmlessness anew, Make no mistake: the quills are fine and ready as the porcupine prepares to show what harmless beasts can do.
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Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 9:46 AM UTC
Porcupine
Picking skin off the dead flesh bones naked from muscle mass a bloodied gore infested chest a vulture feasts upon the distress paitence nonexistant a gutless meal persistent without regret they'll vocally attack your mistake fueled with dire fret a wild screech demand a groundbreaking command it's claping claws sever its a vultures life forever
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Jul 2, 2010
Jul 2, 2010 at 10:47 AM UTC
Vultures
Christine stood at the ward window peering out at the snow you stood beside her smelling the perfume she wore the one she was going to wear on her honeymoon had the ***** shown up as she told you a few days before snow looks like icing on a Christmas cake she said hope to Hell I’m out of here by then me too you said as long as the quack don’t fry our brains with ECTs again better not have she said gives me headaches and **** look at that tractor out there in that field see how those gulls are following him through the snow she followed your finger pointing like a ship at sea don’t it she said you stared up at the greying sky cloudless and end of worldish could have been on my honeymoon some months back she said suddenly could have been well ******* and sun blessed guess so you said instead I get brained fried by some doc in a white coat don’t see how he could have let you down like he did you said that bridegroom of yours gutless worm she said leaving me standing there in that white dress and headpiece and those fecking pinching shoes you sniffed her perfume looked at her sideways her eyes scanning the fields and trees her night gown beltless (in case we take to hanging ourselves) opening to show legs and night dress hanging by the knees she breathed on the glass pane breathed it up and wrote with her finger no more ECTs.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
NO MORE CHRISTINE SAID.
The best thing about kissing you Is how close my face gets to yours That way, everything else disappears And I can only see you Kissing you like this Just gently on the lips It is the only time I am not missing you When our lips touch For just a split second It is the highlight of my day, My week, my month, Until my lips get to touch yours again If I am not touching you I am missing you There is no other state I start missing you the second our gaze parts Even if I can still hear your steps walking away When we say goodbye My stomach wants to leave with you Just rip its way out of my body And leave me rotting inside Gutless... And missing you.
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 4:48 AM UTC
Kissing you
Rebellious minds wander through enlightenment With new found insight into a deeper understanding An illuminated sense of self - disguised in complexity Stroking our ego's with a persuasive fascination Gutless contrarians thriving off schematic exceptions Objecting to proposals is all that seems formidable Double edged intellect embracing it's own prevarication Claiming supremacy as the better half of the equation One more plagiarized thought to dwell on Re-occurrence of Ideals in plain lucidity Come crawling forth from the genetic sea To stain our mind with a rhetorical monotony Monolithic horizons expanding out of view A facade of a paradise - lost in a new weary age These frail structures collapse and rebuild reclaiming everything that we once had known
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
Undead Poet
There has to be a better reason to face each day buzz-less smoke-less sober than simply not wanting to hurt her. She tells me I'm a gutless feckless ****** and if I'm not careful, wifeless, which reiterates my point.
0
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 10:49 PM UTC
Marriage and Sobriety
In life,i dithered,pussyfooting, Cringed,thought,delaying, waited,holding ****** on, feared you, all and sundry argued futile,to myself! philosophized idly, like hell! reacted sensitive! norms as per, mouthed bull, pitied empty! gave little,grabbed in shovels, didn't even hate properly! thus loving only timidly! fought causes unworthy, sat bang mid on the fence, foot each in pastures green, mind,ever weighing the soul, civilized,polite and gutless, to even say,damn,screw you! you evil sob, to hell you go! polite to kids,dogs, folks old, lovely ****** and dumb bores, swallowed angers,conceded points, knowingly with a mind sharper, died some death everyday small, got lost so, mirroring ****** all, unheeding ever, a decided heart! Truth hit,mirror shattering! Fully clothed,stood I naked, unreflected in things any, staring at nothing,blank here, in this place and time. feeling all the garbage pent-up, priming to manure, catalyzing, some part of being, unvisited. knowing somehow, all I did, or not,mattered,was worthy, leading me here,to this  place, Beware,of Existence Point Blank!
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 4:58 AM UTC
Existence,Point Blank!
God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women exchanged for the natural function for that which is unnatural, and in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another men with  men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own persons the due penalty of their  error. (Roman 1:26   Our summer evening settle down many of us logged on to the internet Critiquers or terrifying ticking time bombs They surf and browses around. Clicking sounds;  fingers moving slowly Anything is possible in today's world Overly educated fools smudges the earth Men with men; women with women it's  sad world  for most of us so we chat with total strangers Controlled by gentle touch Alone in the comfort of our homes So many old and lonely cantankerous poets Or mental deranged strangers connects such old souls stretches across the globe to be disrespectful toward each other is this the new  circle of social creatures? could it be they emotion, compassion or simply a humanity deal? They are living secret lifes, with make believe wives The miraculous things we say to each other Gutless lonely souls, nervous in plain view can never function in the real world A Fish Tank without  water Do we really know them? I know them but only on the internet(:)
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 7:55 AM UTC
An Obsessed Generation
I feel bleaker than bleak More empty than full More restless than calm More hopeless than hard More gutless than strong More boneless than brave More pointless than sharp More faceless than feared More skinless than naked More airless than breath More lifeless than dead More useless than you I feel like crying inside. Won’t someone just do something?
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Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 11:20 AM UTC
Suicide
It's hard to see the point in it! (Perhaps it's me) A dismal afternoon of rain, A flask of tea. Beside this murky river now They sit and wait, So statuesque and silent Clutching tins of bait. All week in offices they sweat With just one wish - For Saturday come along So they can fish. And now beneath the willows' fringe They bait their hooks, Comparing rods and reels and lines With envious looks. The lines that fly from whizzing reels Fall with a plip And drift upon the surface Where they bob and dip. Till, with a **** a wriggling jewel Is winched ashore To have its ****** brains bashed out Upon the floor.
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Jan 3, 2010
Jan 3, 2010 at 10:46 AM UTC
Gutless
A mantra of the shiftless souls The weak and will less Gutless wretches of world With quivering quaking shaking legs The brittle bones of those who cannot stand Shout retreat at break or loss of their command Their eyes scream run When wisdom bids they fight for what they can But their bridges they have burned, Roads blocked and rivers ****** They flee from what they feel they cannot fix And hide with weak and sordid tricks From things they do not understand Poised for desperate violence They stutter uttering lies Attempting to disguise The fear within their minds As they make their alibis For those who question why? Fear, Is their master and their king Fear for them, the driving thing And they have given in You cannot save them They are lost so let them run From the hot and burning sun Let them make it for the hills For the dark cold comfort of their caves Where in time they  learn Courage for their soul to save Or die in anguish Never learning to be brave
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Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
Cowardice
The mother of invention lies asleep and sated yet again beside the fire It’s no surprise she should so quickly tire Restrained by offspring turning us to sheep Our need to overcome, explained, expires And we , too tired to weep, feign boundless joy For what we’ve lost and gained - each wretched toy We keep can strangle resource in its wires And rendered gutless, idle hoi polloi we stagger dumbly higher, grinning, keep believing we could buoy her from her sleep Ignite her brain, and our minds re-deploy.
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May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
Nearly
Two celestial beings destroy each other over a petty argument. And two cartoon characters live happily ever after. An actor is playing an insecure caricature, while a despicable tyrant commits genocide. I am talking to a girl who flirts with me and it makes me happy. I'm allowed to be happy. I lay awake at night with guilt. I'm allowed to feel guilty. I drink and I smoke, but I haven't touched an ****** in so long I lost count of the days. We continue to talk, I hear nothing but meaningless small talk and speak likewise, if only to prove a point.
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Haphazard Happiness and Gutless Guilt
Here I am again Cracked and broken Heart ripped open By the claws on the ends of my fingers They are never coated in blood A tidy sort of chaos A mess-less, gutless dissection Hollow space resides within Emptied of everything Shall we count the scars Or will that bore you To hear of the surgeries that came before The operations and treatments Self directed and self prescribed By a med school dropout Disgusting derelict defect Split neatly into near halves Tethered by a final pathetic stitch That I am longing to rip Free
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Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 9:40 PM UTC
Playing Operation On The Bathroom Floor. Drunk.
I said i wouldn't write another poem, But everyone could see this coming I'm just a heart with no home Yet home is where i'm always running I couldn't deal with the pain I thought you of all people would understand I tried to run away But had to run right back to dive into my plans.. Its 2months til October, 2 months til it's over It's gonna be my 17th birthday And i was gonna disappear like A gutless soldier But i'm sitting here now in my cold lonely room Staring out of the window, wandering What happened to you, Cause when you changed i changed with you well at least i tried I tried to be more suited for you And be more easy on the eye But its not enough And every night i remember prom And when i come on this site For reassurance i just feel much worse Yeah all the hate in other's words They're like venom to me And we both know that if i were to become so famous, you wouldn't be jealous of me Because i'd break and i'd cry when the pressure's getting to me You said you loved me once so why are you forgetting me? It's not fair for me to be broken by my soulmate and, A bunch of people who never knew me at all just knew my voice and face And i'd rewind the whole year if i could Or at least the past 24 days, Cause thats the last time when we spoke properly and when you put me in my place But i'm gonna do great things down the line, And i'm not gonna give up no not this time You all hurt me too much for me to write such nice things and quotes And i'll be either dead or maybe famous 5 years down the line i should hope So let's just get this back to you This doesn't feel like a poem more like a rap for you And i'm sure you knew, That when things got tough I always took the wrap for you And i hate how we're so distant, You won't give my songs another listen cause you know they're all for you But don't you think we've both pushed eachother enough? Cause if i never said 'i love you' I'd still have you in the way that i want I'm just a dreamer.. And i think i always will be I dream of you beside me When the black hole's 'bout to **** me Do you feel me?.. Cause i just wanna see you so much So you can tell me it'll be okay Even if we're both not I miss you friend But friends don't wanna kiss other friends And friends would wanna go to weddings and be happy for them I'm just a dreamer, And maybe someday an achiever But not a believer No i don't believe in unrequited love, Or maybe any kind of love, No i don't..
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
Freestyle flow of pain.
I said i wouldn't write another poem, But everyone could see this coming I'm just a heart with no home Yet home is where i'm always running I couldn't deal with the pain I thought you of all people would understand I tried to run away But had to run right back to dive into my plans.. Its 2months til October, 2 months til it's over It's gonna be my 17th birthday And i was gonna disappear like A gutless soldier But i'm sitting here now in my cold lonely room Staring out of the window, wandering What happened to you, Cause when you changed i changed with you well at least i tried I tried to be more suited for you And be more easy on the eye But its not enough And every night i remember prom And when i come on this site For reassurance i just feel much worse Yeah all the hate in other's words They're like venom to me And we both know that if i were to become so famous, you wouldn't be jealous of me Because i'd break and i'd cry when the pressure's getting to me You said you loved me once so why are you forgetting me? It's not fair for me to be broken by my soulmate and, A bunch of people who never knew me at all just knew my voice and face And i'd rewind the whole year if i could Or at least the past 24 days, Cause thats the last time when we spoke properly and when you put me in my place But i'm gonna do great things down the line, And i'm not gonna give up no not this time You all hurt me too much for me to write such nice things and quotes And i'll be either dead or maybe famous 5 years down the line i should hope So let's just get this back to you This doesn't feel like a poem more like a rap for you And i'm sure you knew, That when things got tough I always took the wrap for you And i hate how we're so distant, You won't give my songs another listen cause you know they're all for you But don't you think we've both pushed eachother enough? Cause if i never said 'i love you' I'd still have you in the way that i want I'm just a dreamer.. And i think i always will be I dream of you beside me When the black hole's 'bout to **** me Do you feel me?.. Cause i just wanna see you so much So you can tell me it'll be okay Even if we're both not I miss you friend But friends don't wanna kiss other friends And friends would wanna go to weddings and be happy for them I'm just a dreamer, And maybe someday an achiever But not a believer No i don't believe in unrequited love, Or maybe any kind of love, No i don't..
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64
the plot to topple the crow atop the spire's wind vane didn't quite come off as the crow did sense the plotter's ploy he recognized their gang mentality more than one **** the leader had to marshal he was gutless with no fortitude for a one on one he had not a scintilla of rectitude the crow mounted an unexpected strike on the leader he swooped down from the wind vane and tore the leader's eyes out with his sharp beak which did **** off the leader's toppling feat the other gang members were as gutless too they ran away from the fray they all had feet of clay the crow then ascended to the top of the spire where he kept his kingship of the wind vane
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Wind Vane
Rest in Country We'd just lobbed into Vungers from the Dat on R & C, Innocently strolling was **** Knight and me, Across the Flags to the Some-Such Bar wherein the girls drank 'tea'. And I can still see Max beside me striding to the Some-Such Bar, With the baby-sans about him going just that bit too far, With their practiced tugs and pleadings going just that bit too far. And of course among the baby-sans the cowboys moved in too, Which didn't worry me too much my cash was in my shoe, But Max was Max and in those days, not like me and you. ‘Watch your wallet, mate,’ says I, ‘in case it comes to harm.’ ‘No fear of that’ says mighty Max with patriotic charm, Then he tucked a cowboy baby-san beneath one brawny arm. Well! 'You silly ****** put him down’ but Max went like a rocket; 'I'm off to find the White Mice 'cos this bastard's picked me pocket.’ And I groaned aloud because I knew that me and him would cop it. Sure enough, there gathered round an angry, shouting throng, In Asia you don't maltreat kids, no matter right or wrong; Believe you me our lives that day depended on that throng. And I got hit with an iron bar (the hat protected my head), Whilst Max had a pistol ****** into his belly and really should be dead, And across the Flags M.P's I saw, turned white in craven dread. Australians too, those coppers but no good to Max and me; The gutless ******** turned about just so they might not see The riot raging fiercely now about my mate and me. I'd say forty upright citizens we met that Vung Tau day. Policemen, soldiers, rascals, all with us two in affray; Those Aussie ****** save our lives? They'd turned themselves away. Thank Christ the mob stayed leaderless, our riot's end surprise; And the cowardly action of those two? 'twas blessing in disguise, For a Yankee Jeep barged through the mob and drawled 'in here, you guys'. It barged back out then drove full speed to the end of R&C Where the Major spoke severely to **** Knight and me. While quietly back at the Some-Such Bar the girls sat drinking tea. Saved
0
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 10:08 PM UTC
Rest-in-Country
Rest in Country We'd just lobbed into Vungers from the Dat on R & C, Innocently strolling was **** Knight and me, Across the Flags to the Some-Such Bar wherein the girls drank 'tea'. And I can still see Max beside me striding to the Some-Such Bar, With the baby-sans about him going just that bit too far, With their practiced tugs and pleadings going just that bit too far. And of course among the baby-sans the cowboys moved in too, Which didn't worry me too much my cash was in my shoe, But Max was Max and in those days, not like me and you. ‘Watch your wallet, mate,’ says I, ‘in case it comes to harm.’ ‘No fear of that’ says mighty Max with patriotic charm, Then he tucked a cowboy baby-san beneath one brawny arm. Well! 'You silly ****** put him down’ but Max went like a rocket; 'I'm off to find the White Mice 'cos this bastard's picked me pocket.’ And I groaned aloud because I knew that me and him would cop it. Sure enough, there gathered round an angry, shouting throng, In Asia you don't maltreat kids, no matter right or wrong; Believe you me our lives that day depended on that throng. And I got hit with an iron bar (the hat protected my head), Whilst Max had a pistol ****** into his belly and really should be dead, And across the Flags M.P's I saw, turned white in craven dread. Australians too, those coppers but no good to Max and me; The gutless ******** turned about just so they might not see The riot raging fiercely now about my mate and me. I'd say forty upright citizens we met that Vung Tau day. Policemen, soldiers, rascals, all with us two in affray; Those Aussie ****** save our lives? They'd turned themselves away. Thank Christ the mob stayed leaderless, our riot's end surprise; And the cowardly action of those two? 'twas blessing in disguise, For a Yankee Jeep barged through the mob and drawled 'in here, you guys'. It barged back out then drove full speed to the end of R&C Where the Major spoke severely to **** Knight and me. While quietly back at the Some-Such Bar the girls sat drinking tea. Saved
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35
Dorothy Gale, all freckled and pale Was asleep in her gingham print nighty When a ****** great twister enveloped the vista And blew like the good lord almighty It ripped up the grass and it took out the glass As it lifted the house from position And a blow to the head from the post of her bed Put young Dorothy out of commission She awoke with a fright as she fell from a height Landing squarely on somebody's gran She emerged from indoors to a round of applause And her journey had surely began The people of Aus (because that's where she was) Gave her hazy but helpful directions She should hastily wander the road over yonder To reach Tony before the elections So she took to the road from her former abode In her quest to get back to her folk She aquired some mates, all in similar straits Or the **** of a practical joke A man made of straw was quite hard to ignore With a lion quite lacking in guts And a fella whose skin was constructed from tin Held together with rivets and nuts Such adventures they had, though I think you'll be glad That I've cut to the crux of the rhyme Where a meeting was set, their request would be met To meet Tony in ten minutes time They arrived and were greeted, quite comfortably seated It was then Mr Abbott appeared He regretted to say, to their growing dismay That their wishes had not all been cleared "As I haven't a heart" he was heard to impart "then the tin man is leaving with jack" "And I'm gutless as well" he was careful to tell "So the lion can hurry on back" "And I've also no brain, so it's no once again" "But young lady, your problems are sorted" "You'll be locked up off shore for a month, maybe four "And by christmas, we'll have you deported" By Ben the Poet
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
The Lizard of Aus
Dorothy Gale, all freckled and pale Was asleep in her gingham print nighty When a ****** great twister enveloped the vista And blew like the good lord almighty It ripped up the grass and it took out the glass As it lifted the house from position And a blow to the head from the post of her bed Put young Dorothy out of commission She awoke with a fright as she fell from a height Landing squarely on somebody's gran She emerged from indoors to a round of applause And her journey had surely began The people of Aus (because that's where she was) Gave her hazy but helpful directions She should hastily wander the road over yonder To reach Tony before the elections So she took to the road from her former abode In her quest to get back to her folk She aquired some mates, all in similar straits Or the **** of a practical joke A man made of straw was quite hard to ignore With a lion quite lacking in guts And a fella whose skin was constructed from tin Held together with rivets and nuts Such adventures they had, though I think you'll be glad That I've cut to the crux of the rhyme Where a meeting was set, their request would be met To meet Tony in ten minutes time They arrived and were greeted, quite comfortably seated It was then Mr Abbott appeared He regretted to say, to their growing dismay That their wishes had not all been cleared "As I haven't a heart" he was heard to impart "then the tin man is leaving with jack" "And I'm gutless as well" he was careful to tell "So the lion can hurry on back" "And I've also no brain, so it's no once again" "But young lady, your problems are sorted" "You'll be locked up off shore for a month, maybe four "And by christmas, we'll have you deported" By Ben the Poet
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I wish my life was normal instead of just a mess Hopelessness and sickness keeps bringing me down Thoughts of suicide and self harm keep filling my mind Which leaves me sitting in my room with just a gutless frown. I would trade my soul to the devil just to live a normal life So I could give myself the chance to do everything everyone else can do Instead of just laying on bed thinking and watching countless movies a day And wishing before I go to sleep this is all just a dream too. No one is every going to love me for who I am Because I expect no one to worry or care about the problems in my life I will live my life loving and caring about others while alive But I know inside that all I want to do is end my life with a knife.
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Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 12:55 AM UTC
Living This Life