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"horner" poems
lil jack horner sat with a ***** in fantasy islands delight pulled out his **** wanked in a sock, then it was time for good night
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Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
lil jack horner (re- his pervy poems)
Mama's got a Squeeze Box every night after dinner mama goes into the parlor she opens up her case and pulls out her Horner she taps her toes and pulls and pushes in and out the air moves as she sits there in the corner the tunes are reminiscent of the times gone past all that's missing is the oompah all night long and daddy can't sleep German and Austrian no yodeling is heard daddy's wasting his time trying to count the sheep cause mama won't stop the music's in her blood she like her squeezebox poor daddy doesn't so much Gomer LePoet ...
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
Mama's got a Squeeze Box
dconors love know sweet like time day want eyes hands kiss just deep tears long left heart slowly night look lips hair horner ol air
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Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 11:11 AM UTC
tagged
(I'm sorry) Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of beer jill got drunk and ran off with the closest guy near jack got mad, grabbed a gun, and headed toward the door caught that **** at the car and killed that little ***** ========================== hickory dickory dock I'm in a race against the clock my life's no fun i'm on the run hickory dickory dock ========================== little jack Horner sat in the corner eating his Christmas pie "is this all I get"? "this pie tastes like **** and he wished his mom and dad would die ========================== rainbows end I have been to rainbows end that's where I met a little friend now my story can be told a leprechaun stole my *** of gold ========================== sailor's delight he sat sail on wavy seas without a worry, red skies at night there was more than just a breeze and no other vessels were in sight blown out to sea, he grabbed his radio his mayday was answered with words to confuse there's a hurricane on its way you know didnt you even watch the news? his trip went from bad to worse he broke the hull and cracked his mast as he sank, he spit and cursed sailors delight my ***
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
nursery crimes/sailors delight - explicit
she cried! he said, come to bed she denies the warmth he radiates because in the corner of her own little horner, she's trying to create her own fantasy one he possibly can't see where every word said creates an illusion inside a head that picks at a brain that should have been silent just what are these words about? as she twists and turns she shouts in front of a blank mirror where no reflection has ever been seen she only hears one voice and how it could have been it makes no sense it seems bottom to top her words sc re am
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
does my **** look big in this?
lil jack horner, sat in the corner nursing his aching back stuck his fat thumb, right up his *** and miss muffet gave him a wack
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Mar 11, 2010
Mar 11, 2010 at 12:47 PM UTC
jacks back
Tom Thumb got caught peeping Now his life is on the run Little Bo Peep lost her sheep On a gambling junket she was on Little Miss Muffet is having to tuff it Out these days in jail Selling ecstasy to undercover police And now can't pay her bail Little Jack Horner took him a corner Of the Mafia drug trade Once you are hooked on the **** that he cooks There's no way of escape You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet That even comes this close Since  Mother Goose started hitting the juice And ended up down on skid row Humpty Dumpty's more than broke But not from any fall He couldn't pay his ****** And his legs were first to go Baa Baa Black Sheep   Where forced to sell their wool To pay for all the damages While they were in school Jack pushed Jill down the hill When he caught her cheating with Little Boy Blue Now he's paying her doctor bills Which has left Jack blue too You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet That even comes this close Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice And ended up down on skid row
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
Mother Goose Down On Skid Row
. Now, lil' Jack Horner go sit in yer corner- the anger in here's growin' fat. You need not fight me to help to drown misery- I'm always willing to drink to that!.
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Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 10:30 AM UTC
~A Poem to Jack Horner ♥♥
little jack horner sat in the corner sell knocked off watches put in his thumb pulled out a rolex then told you why you should wear it these days with jack anything goes is the same jack that in winter bites at my toes.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
Little jack Horner
Nursery Rhymes re-write Mary ,Mary how does your garden grow? It doesn’t I have slugs and snails Which is a bit of a blow Leaving their horrible sticky trails. Humpty, Dumpty why sit on a wall When there are chairs to park your *** Just because you had a fall And you landed on your massive tum. Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie Well actually I think it was too many. There are starving people out there you know Buy something better with your gold penny. Little Jack Horner sat in a corner Eating his big plum pie. Stuck in his thumb, Well that was wrong Why be so dumb And why burst into song. Just eat it, do not brag about it Sticking in your thumb, dear me. How strange nowadays to sit In a corner, how rude is he?
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Nursery Rhyme Rewrite
Little Jack Horner On the street corner His eyes are empty and gray He hates to bother but could you spare a dollar? Everyone has debts that need paid
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 10:30 PM UTC
He's all thumbs
lil jack horner sat in a corner mulling a miserable time pulled out a pen, that was it then off-loaded his passion thro rhyme
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Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 8:50 AM UTC
lil jack horner
little jack horner sat in corner on a pedal bin bailiffs took his furniture when he let them in they took everything his tele and the phone left him with a pedal bin sat there all alone he walked down to the shops feeling rather numb bought himself a steak pie in it was a plum jack was now depressed he began to cry who on earth had put plum in jacks favorite pie
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
jacks bad day
Ol' Jack Horner Sat in a corner Eating his curds and whey Along came a spider That sat down beside him Jack slapped that spider dead Mixed him in with his curds and whey And enjoyed the extra protein "MMMMMmmmmmmm" said Jack "Deeee-licious"!
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Ol' Jack Horner
Strive to Listen. Thus convert what we hear If Articles alone were your Sharp Cause Even I, sore as a Horner's Thumb fear What sordid News would take my Heart to pause May be just as well; Though tempted to peek Ask my Frivolities from your State feed Such Real Illusion; Of Poisoned Scents reek Take your Summed Profile more than I would need And as I have told - at least by Bob's Bay Ask once more the Whitened Baby preserve For his Dark Water; Un-Succumb the Day And wipe his Flannel he so much deserve. Such is Behaviour. Balanced by Degree The same which I bind the Demon in me.
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE - TOM DALEY
Mary had a little lamb it was a Caesarean delivery, its conception was even stranger in a barn under stars up against a manger. On pudding lane with a pocket full of Posies little Jack Horner was last seen on a corner, he slipped into whispers and pulled out a plum, Rumplestiltskin did cartwheels as he strangled Tom Thumb. Little Red Riding when lulled by the wolf lowered her hood and twinkled her eye, her ginger bread biscuit crumbled to dust and all the Kings men could ne’er reason why. So fairy tale this and fairy tale that trick all the rabbits you pull from your hat for all of the things that remain unexplained make up a story and give it a name. https://wolfgarwords.com/about/
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 3:42 AM UTC
Nonsensical fairytale
I wish you understood how cool I can be When I'm not hiding my eyes from what I perceive To be the sun shining from yours I wish you could see the nonchalant posts I write when I'm hoping you're there with the ghosts It's me who is the one so out of doors Because I'm now tapping at the windows Like the Dickensian kid I'm not And that is how my sin flows From wounds that cannot clot Stem, stem, but I'm a social scientist And not enough to be of interest Of keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf. I wish you understood how wanted I am When I am chasing after the success-bound tram Not the tail of your shooting star I wish you could see how I'm queen of the sidewalk The subject of everyone's gaze and idle talk When my eyes aren't burning the West, so far Because I'm now singing on street corners Like the desperate artist I'm not I wish my luck was like Jack Horner's Would the Plum Land please be my lot? Wait, wait, but I know I'm not life's patient And too much to match your gradient To be keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf. I'm not falling off, but I could I could call it off, but I would Rather win please, even though I concede I am losing, And it's highly confusing The way I go on with the show. 'Cos I'm now writing stupid letters Like the complaining tenant I'm not Counting you... the highest of my betters And believe me there aren't a lot Stop, stop, but maybe I'll write something good And sufficient to get a Laureatehood 'Cos I'm not keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf.
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Oct 13, 2022
Oct 13, 2022 at 7:44 PM UTC
Honey, if I didn't look this good, you wouldn't give me the time of day
I wish you understood how cool I can be When I'm not hiding my eyes from what I perceive To be the sun shining from yours I wish you could see the nonchalant posts I write when I'm hoping you're there with the ghosts It's me who is the one so out of doors Because I'm now tapping at the windows Like the Dickensian kid I'm not And that is how my sin flows From wounds that cannot clot Stem, stem, but I'm a social scientist And not enough to be of interest Of keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf. I wish you understood how wanted I am When I am chasing after the success-bound tram Not the tail of your shooting star I wish you could see how I'm queen of the sidewalk The subject of everyone's gaze and idle talk When my eyes aren't burning the West, so far Because I'm now singing on street corners Like the desperate artist I'm not I wish my luck was like Jack Horner's Would the Plum Land please be my lot? Wait, wait, but I know I'm not life's patient And too much to match your gradient To be keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf. I'm not falling off, but I could I could call it off, but I would Rather win please, even though I concede I am losing, And it's highly confusing The way I go on with the show. 'Cos I'm now writing stupid letters Like the complaining tenant I'm not Counting you... the highest of my betters And believe me there aren't a lot Stop, stop, but maybe I'll write something good And sufficient to get a Laureatehood 'Cos I'm not keeping myself to myself: I need you to look up to my shelf.
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42
My brother John aka Gonzo as he's known has been unfairly thrown of this site for no reason at all. He may not be the most popular writer here be still it's not fare to just void out his account cause someone dislikes him. Its called freedom of speech. Im guessing in writtingthis im setting myself up as well. Well how isit right to not even worn a person a finewriter in Jack Horner is also being treated in this same manner. They have now lost work I belive they should both be allowed to both at least have there work back its one thing to not like someone but this is just wrong. If this is allowed than what next do youbelive just cause someone doesnt agree with you they should be thrown off? My brother is many things including a first rate joker but honestly he's been deeply hury by this and thissite not even responding back shows how childish and cruel they truley are. Please write the site and tell them to let Jack and John return. Cause if we let this slide than who's next? Its wrong plain and simple and same on the site for taking it this far you could at least treat then with commomn respect. Instead of just erasing there work like they dont even matter.
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Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 12:17 PM UTC
Persecution
Little Jack Horner said To hell with this corner And had a stroll outside He saw his neighbor Humpty And climbed up the wall Not to say hi, but create a fall Humpty said what's up guy Horner said I'm sick of pie Humpty saw the look in Horners eye Oh my, oh my, please Jack I am no pie With one push during Humptys babble Off of the wall, Now Jacks eggs are scrambled.
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
little jack horners breakfast
Hansel and Gretel were so named to make them the laughing stock of the hood. They had a crack head mom and a dad who disappeared before they were born. Often they had to subsist on small tidbits of bread they found on the path into the forest. Once on their forages they met a little girl dressed in red. She said her name was hood. She had a red dress. She had a knowing about the forest and the surroundings. Said don't trust no one. They are all ******* wolfs. And they walked. Where they ran into three lil pigs i forget. Think it was in Louisiana around Baton Rouge near the Bayou la batre and the wind was blowing and the Republicans ignored them and the Police kept them in and the little boy, Jack Horner , who had a finger in the **** saw them coming , and pulled his thingy outta the hole and all hell broke loose. I give my votes to the guy on the fence who fell and all the King's horses all the King's men didn't even try to put back together.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:29 AM UTC
Brotha's grin Fairytales
He sat in his favourite corner, Each day, just taking his pills, The old man, Frederick Horner Counting his cash and paying his bills, They watched and noted his every move, Took note of each sign of life, He’d outlived both of his daughters, And even his scheming wife. He never revealed how old he was And nobody knew the truth, He said he was old as Methusaleh, Remembered the Biblical Ruth, He still had the very first dollar he’d earned Had framed it, and locked in his drawer, But now he had multi-billions, And each day added more. ‘You’d think he would give us some,’ they said, His sons, Nathaniel and George, For they had to work for their daily bread, And Nathaniel slaved at a forge. ‘He can’t live forever,’ George opined ‘And then it will pass to us,’ The money was always on George’s mind, As he drove the local bus. ‘We’re not getting younger,’ Nathaniel said, ‘I’m forty and you’re forty-two, We could have made good if he’d shown some trust, But look at our Becky and Sue. They both died young, of neglect they said, And mother, she died from the shakes, But he goes on, he’s just about dead, It must be those pills he takes.’ They’d watched him taking his yellow pills, He never said what they did, The blue, kept under the windowsill, The orange, the old man hid. ‘It must be them that keep him alive, The orange, the yellow and blue, What if we take the pills away?’ ‘You can, but it’s up to you.’ ‘Maybe we ought to try them first, They could give us both long life.’ ‘They didn’t do much for her,’ said George, ‘The old man’s second wife.’ Nathaniel nodded and looked quite grim He remembered the yellow pills, Spilling out of the woman’s hand When she fell down, deadly ill. They’d never been close to their father when Their mother suddenly died, Whenever there was an argument They’d taken their mother’s side, The old man sat in his corner and Would mutter of stains and blood, Would wait for a glimmer of light to shine But doubted they understood. ‘We’ll try the blue, one pill apiece One night when he’s in his bed,’ And so they did, they swallowed them down In seconds they fell down dead. The old man grinned in his final breath, ‘Too curious, those two, They should have asked who their father was For it wasn’t me… I knew!’ David Lewis Paget
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
Thicker than Water
He sat in his favourite corner, Each day, just taking his pills, The old man, Frederick Horner Counting his cash and paying his bills, They watched and noted his every move, Took note of each sign of life, He’d outlived both of his daughters, And even his scheming wife. He never revealed how old he was And nobody knew the truth, He said he was old as Methusaleh, Remembered the Biblical Ruth, He still had the very first dollar he’d earned Had framed it, and locked in his drawer, But now he had multi-billions, And each day added more. ‘You’d think he would give us some,’ they said, His sons, Nathaniel and George, For they had to work for their daily bread, And Nathaniel slaved at a forge. ‘He can’t live forever,’ George opined ‘And then it will pass to us,’ The money was always on George’s mind, As he drove the local bus. ‘We’re not getting younger,’ Nathaniel said, ‘I’m forty and you’re forty-two, We could have made good if he’d shown some trust, But look at our Becky and Sue. They both died young, of neglect they said, And mother, she died from the shakes, But he goes on, he’s just about dead, It must be those pills he takes.’ They’d watched him taking his yellow pills, He never said what they did, The blue, kept under the windowsill, The orange, the old man hid. ‘It must be them that keep him alive, The orange, the yellow and blue, What if we take the pills away?’ ‘You can, but it’s up to you.’ ‘Maybe we ought to try them first, They could give us both long life.’ ‘They didn’t do much for her,’ said George, ‘The old man’s second wife.’ Nathaniel nodded and looked quite grim He remembered the yellow pills, Spilling out of the woman’s hand When she fell down, deadly ill. They’d never been close to their father when Their mother suddenly died, Whenever there was an argument They’d taken their mother’s side, The old man sat in his corner and Would mutter of stains and blood, Would wait for a glimmer of light to shine But doubted they understood. ‘We’ll try the blue, one pill apiece One night when he’s in his bed,’ And so they did, they swallowed them down In seconds they fell down dead. The old man grinned in his final breath, ‘Too curious, those two, They should have asked who their father was For it wasn’t me… I knew!’ David Lewis Paget
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65
Backed into a corner. Folded over four hundred times. "I thank whatever gods may be" for my indeterminable mind. Thrown about like little Jack Horner. I've never cared much for pie. Christmas either, for that matter. "If you are me then who am I?" Somebody sent on a suicide mission. Grand plans of livin' but doomed to die. She smiled wide after I delivered that line, and a small part inside of me died. I'd be better off if I could get paid to cry. I'll try not to be so stubborn about it. In forty-two seconds I'm bound to forget. Wait, what were we talking about just now? How much of this have I already said? If there's bliss in ignorance then there's sadness in truth. I once loved a girl whose mother's name was Ruth. It's a Biblical thing. She was mostly Adam and I was niEve. I sometimes get lost when walking down familiar streets. It may not be the greatest thing, but hey, it's still pretty neat.
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
Don't Get Me Started