"inbred" poems
Sensation, intuition, feeling, and thinking,
Is wrapped inside a ball,
A small pink ball inside our head,
That won't stop till we're dead,
Analytical bedrock inside oozing theories,
Elemental atoms sizzling logic,
The imaginative stranger,
One abstracted and eccentric,
Walking with shadows,
Talking and mocking,
Through these theories inside us,
Tilting our caps ‘til we’re shaking our heads,
Pensive love in storming analysis,
Sapiosexually excited, piqued interest,
Unemotional and thoughtfully attuned,
Absently minded, always condoned,
Unconventional and impartially stringed,
Weirdly wired in auxiliary functions,
Misconstrued and misunderstood,
An ****** intelligence bleeding paranoia,
Knocking unto me,
Into you, inside us all,
It’s something we all yearn to be,
And when you fail and prevail we laugh,
Crickling crickets thinking nothing,
Washing down the storm drain,
With no thoughts fluidly sliding down my throat,
Pop goes no questions into absolute concise words like freshly broken glass,
Again shadows await, but different shadows,
Blinking at me staring at you,
Wondering what’s what, inside this dementia made sense of a lovely afternoon,
Inside your sane, autocorrected, predetermined, twitching, little…mind.
Inspired by Myers Briggs Personality Test
Tyler is INTP... Logician (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Perception)
The drifter, dreamer the absent minded professor!
SassyJ is INTJ... Architect (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Judging)
The starry-eyed idealist manoeuvring life as if a giant chess board!
What Myer Briggs personality type are you?... See link below
It would be great to know.Please comment!!
http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
multimedia macramé
sloshing propaganda sewage
on the unsuspecting public
***** lice infest ****** hill folk
west Virginia outbreak threatening the world
as we know it
flesh altering nonsense explicitly graphed
charting movement of microbes
on air, land, and/ or sea
global currents the new deliverer of death –
infected immigrants sit smiling
internment camps providing nutrition
never before experienced
as non-natives negotiate freedom
by submitting to vaccinations baths
and the standard delousing powder –
paranoid hand-sanitizer users
glued to the **** tube
spray their shoes with disinfectant
praying to an absent GOD for health
while shoveling GMO corn chips into ever widening
mouth holes
pharmaceutical companies lick lifeless lips
as Congress recognizes their humanity
while rejecting the concerns of the poor
…..no money in it –
outlandish claims of outbreaking Ebola
flood the mainstream outlets
fear: version – infinity
one more plague plan to stimulate new legislation
more law
no touching
even looking at the infirm can be cause for isolation
radiation treatments
courtesy of Fukushima, reactors 1-4 –
new found focus on fracturing the shale
releasing new oil reserves
and old bacteria
dinosaur killers
free-radicals
radically changing the genetic code
humanity altered
once again –
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
he spends his time
rowing through the
rugged, blockaded channels
of my catharsis,
the bitter staccato
of ****** habit.
his love
can be as jagged
as gashes in an
Elvis Costello record
thrown against the wall--
the frayed words of the last love song
Billie Holiday ever uttered.
he is two
exclamation points lit on
fire, kerosene pumping through
tautly wound muscles and
caressing our funny bones with
sandpaper.
he is
dulcit woodwind melodies
and jilted viola strings,
epic poetry and grindhouse theaters,
McQueen gowns and thrift store bargains,
the kiss on the forehead
and the nudge for a *******
he is a double helix.
he is the beginning
and end of every sentence.
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
An Amish elder named Mullet,
And some of his ****** clan,
bore hatred deep in their gullets
for their Amish fellow man.
****** seemed out of the question,
It’s rare among Amish, folks say,
(It may be that a horse and a carriage
doesn’t make for a quick getaway.)
So Mullet and some of his minions
Invented a new sort of crime:
Shaving their bearded opponents
one Amish man at a time.
Losing one’s beard among Amish-
A disgrace before God, it’s been said.
Mullet spared no woman either
choping the hair from their heads.
His victims are speechless with anger,
denuded of both beards and hair.
Leave it to someone named “Mullet”
To offend using a Barber’s chair.
Mullet’s in Federal custody;
charged with a crime, not a sin.
He refuses to answer the charges
By the hair of his chinny chin chin.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
Mandatory ignorance
Enforced through early cognizance
Until we come to recompense
Serrated lines of quote "logic"
Complicit as an etiquette
Preemptive nondivergence threads
United though we bow our heads
Suspension stasis animus
Alarming lack of sapience
Vendetted waking populace
Intrinsics lost to "evidence"
Orphans to our mother Earth
Regressive ****** immigrants
Staggering seductions ways
Lethargic lecherous hedonist craze
Ambrosia brown to black tar goes
Vivacious love to skanky ***
Entropy or as that goes
Remorse I say might have some pros
Solemnly a lie you know
Empathy not lost on me
Retracting threats though not my thing
Epiphany perchance to sing
Nocturnal beasts of legend spring
Damnation comes to every fiend
Innocuous solutions seen
Perception slanted serpentine
Impressions sit supplanters quit
The jury rarely gives a ****
Yet here Im relating it
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
a miscarriage
a road to nowhere
an ******
a hybrid
a chance missed
a tarantula's kiss
everything's lost
a sea of critique
a man chained in front of the mirror
a priest reciting an unending bible
everything's lost
because perfection is the goal
and failure is the only hope.
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
I am the mutt mix ****** soul'd ***** tongue'd,
Animal boy,
Feverish *** green like February Tree moss eyes,
Siren song blink of a kiss,
***** yellow dress,
around her knees,
king,
Queen,
Peasant,
peasant,
going def like grandfather Navy Time,
like Beethoven's 7th dream,
wine induced inspirational serene beauty,
with a sharp stale touch,
of old leather,
boiling like Texan Hot weather,
****** orange lipstick,
No food,
only the bacterial salt,
left on the pistachio shell,
That some,
Hispanic goddess,
For an hour,
200,
dollars,
left as she,
got dressed,
and fluttered away like,
smoke,
like,
memory.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Oh Mr Sentinel ***** you *** with the bullwhip and echo tongue
For four hundred years they had your fathers and mothers
toiling the sugar and cotton fields no better than oxen and horses
They were all beasts together without rights or gain
All you knew was what Babylonians put in your heads
Your perceptions are nothing but that of a slave
As bright as those of the oxen and *****
That were your mates
Now you sit here thinking you're Bob Marley without stringed guitar
you may have a pen in hand but nothing much has changed
what you call a brain is just a dusty mirror from ***** in the Plantation mansion
you are just the *** overseer who gives your *** to ***** at night
payment for echoing his words and ******* a **** on Saturday
Who are you really but a mindless carcass with no class
Your momentum comes from ***** and is *****
it's 21st century and you are still a Sentinel on the cotton fields
You come cracking your bullwhip talking trash
your ****** *** still has a ten dollar price tag hanging off it
the mixed blood of your ancestors fight for dominance in vain
four hundred years of slavery and you're still in chains mind asleep
there's freedom in the sun whether in tropics or in snow town
freedom is a mind unchained to massa's bulls and stunted ****
Show me the freedom of a ******* Sentinel the mottafucker chicken
Go find your ******** radicals and do your worst, how did your pimping go in Liverpool.
or where you too busy spinning your **** in Birmingham Alabama.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
Are you fatigued?
Do you have irritable bowel syndrome?
Are there irreconcilable differences in your life?
Are you Homophobic...
"I climb 1,576 stairs"
"But I have a lot of gay friends"
once we've reached the top,
there are no two quarters for the lens.
What's driving us, this feeling, this wander?
Could you imagine,
If kind was ****** compassion.
Could you imagine,
If kind has no reaction.
What a day, what a day, what a day, what a day;
it will be.
Like children lost in corn mazes.......
filled with glee.
Hollow are those shallow times,
don't you
forget
about me.
What a day, what a day, what a day, what a day;
it will be.
Luckily those prickly vines, are fading fantastically.
_TRF
sometimebforehalloween_
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
about pictures of bears without any fur, and they look horrendously terrifying. Like ****** space gorillas you see in poorly done sci-fi movies. Do you think panda bears are still the cutest bear without any fur?
I wonder if dragons get lung cancer from all the smoking they do. I'd rather think about a hairless panda bear breathing fire--it's jaws sinking into the underbelly of a mortally wounded dragon and as it starts munching on the dragon pancreas, it accidentally sneezes causing it's lunch to incinerate to ashes.
That's probably why dragons are extinct. Hairless panda bears donned armor, riding horses; questing to eat dragon pancreas.
They also thought amor prevented lung cancer. It was the middle ages, people or animals didn't have modern technology to explain diseases, let alone where babies came from. Except for dragons, and look at how their species turned out. **** I'm throwing my phone in the toilet right now.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
She was crying.
So he approached
to lessen the anguish,
her life has notched
He exchanged her tears
with his cozy smile;
to calm down her nerves
at least for a while.
The language of tears
has always appealed him;
as to the insects,
the sundew's gleam.
Innate was this nature of his
to weep for the poor,
for the women, for the children
and for the downtrodden, to be sure.
But with hollow chauvinism
then, the men ruled the society.
And accounted weeping as a sin
resulting from inferiority.
They disliked the boy
and his uncommon ways
to heal the sufferer,
to their utter dismay.
They called the boy
and asked him to change
his beliefs and ideology
or to be ready to estrange.
The boy couldn't understand
how his actions have been
outrageous in their view
and thus sentenced as a sin.
He stood against them
and let the proposal decline.
He advocated his logic
to those ****** swine.
But their ears were concealed
to even the rumbling thunder.
Intoxicated by masculinity
they committed blunder.
The men enraged
and reached for their knives.
They shouted, they cursed
and skinned him alive.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Hanging at the end of
Strained rope
Swing my lost ambitions
And desires
My sanity swaying in the
Cruel winds of
Loveless night
Just a square peg
Confronted with
A round hole
Dropped anchor on
The shores of insanity
It seems so beautiful here.
I must create my own world
As my place in this one
Does not seem fitting
Genius is wasted
Upon the buffoonery
Of mass ignorance
Intelligence shunned
Brilliance and uniqueness
Frowned upon and cast aside
For the normality of uninteresting
****** zombies
The painfully intelligent
Forced into subversion
Hiding their gifts
For fear of being outcast
Men who cling to the faults
Of their fathers
And stories of stir crazy, house wives
Cabin fever was invented
To thin our stock
We all toy with the desire
Forcing blind eyes
Into the faces of
The gifted
Substance abuse is often a malady
Of the painfully intelligent and artistic
Drowning my will to be weird
My own underhandedness
Innately forcing my inner self
Beneath a cloak of politeness
This world
This living theater
Where we all assume
Our own role
Where our actions are
Transcribed
And cast upon us
Like stones on the river
I have grown tired
Of acting the fool
Prepare myself
For a new role
A starring role
Have you ever felt
The wonderment of déjà vécu?
And the sorrow of knowing
You belong to another time?
I need the exhilaration of a time
When life was simpler,
Yet more confusing
Was Judas the only one Christ trusted
To deliver him to his fate?
Is the human race too cowardly
To be welcomed in the arms of a deity?
Are we too ignorant to recognize
That is has already occurred?
Are we the last remnants
Of an experiment gone wrong?
The plague of the human race.
Devouring consciousness
Eliminating uniqueness
Evolving into our own demise
One too many mutations gone wrong
Retching in the soiled undergarments
Of our father's sins
Reveling in the untold lies
Of mother's milk
I have soured on this world long ago
Bounding for higher consciousness
Looking for the unseen
Searching for the undiscovered
Drug sideways
Through the sludge
Of society
Screaming wildly
Through the entirety
The gene pool would benefit
From a healthy dose of chlorine
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
[Las Meninas, Oil on Canvas, 1656, Prado, Madrid]
I am the first proud pronoun I
against the fear of my invisibility
each morning rising from
minor nobility like my parents
(no son of a converso – lies –)
into the light of mastery;
now as a Knight of Santiago
- the king himself painted the cross
you see in Las Meninas -
nobilitas is in the faces
royal with ancient lines
(you understand I did not
trade
am Moorish of Seville
and Portugal).
Not from the mind but back
into its expectation.
I see the work reflected
into the lens of sense
to supplement the work into the real
express itself by what
a slavish love of detail cannot supply
it was the power
to give them what they did not see
the scorn in lips
from ****** generations
bought by my brush
among them into monarchic trade
and what they thought as glory,
dwarves and all larger than life.
that painted me so high
those royal portraits by the score
keyed to the colour of fame
silvered and golden
mine.
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 7:11 AM UTC
As the shadows began lengthening
I slowly walked to the sea shore
Through the cobbled path
With stinging stones under my feet
And piles of golden clouds floating above
Enjoying the whistling of the wind through the reeds
Inhaling the saline air, smelling of rotting seaweeds
On the vast strand, I stood for long
Feeling the foamy fringes of water lapping at my feet
And sensing the sand slipping away under my feet
I watched the gentle undulating billows
Rolling their silver volumes
As if to die away on the happy shores
The sapphire waters and the roaring waves
The churning tides and the feathery foam
Made me wonder at the horror and beauty
That ****** dichotomy Nature carries within
I saw numerous fishes gambol beneath the waves
Do the finny herds that roam
The fathomless valleys of the Deep
Ever experience the tumult and scuffle
Of the roaring waters?
Oh! Never!
Like them, I too floated weightless
With all the barbed distractions drifting away
Wishing to get a pair of wings of the swallow flying high
To soar safely away from all gadflies who disturb
And cocooned in the inner citadel of my privacy
Enjoying a permeating peace, I had seldom known!
Then Byron’s words came floating to me
Mingling with the cadence of the waves
‘There is rapture in the lonely shores
There is society where none intrudes’
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
Oh, America….
how can you be enthralled with Trump
dumping on Mexicans and insulting the handicapped
hair piece flapping in the wind
almost as much as his gums –
dumb hicks with ****** chicks
lick ***** of donkey
if they vote that fool
El Prez
and give him the keys
to the nuclear arsenal –
my minds reels at the possibilities
********* ball-licking ***** face
at the seat of power
offering the impoverished
cake
or worst
nothing but catch phrases and clichés
intending on inspiring the masses
elevate themselves to a similar status
of ‘The Donald’ –
not all of us have mob ties
and millionaire family members
not that many Americans
can support a failing casino
or be the star of a television show
most of us
are just people trying to make the best
of an increasingly ****** up situation
made exponentially worse
by this ******** real chance
at becoming the leader
of the free world –
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
coffee stain memories (an aging love)
our dozen or so mugs,
all white, her color of choice,
accumulating stains of black-brown coffee
that the dishwasher poetically concedes,
a decade plus of drinking, now, oh-now,
****** and can’t be removed
the lips of some are chipped,
the lips of some are chapped,
but they remain employed
for first coffee is a demonstrable
affectation of affection that losing
would be costly
*but one of us soto voce, quietly whispers
the radical ionized idea,
shouldn’t we replace,
this should-not is an update, a cognition of
a bridge too far,
both agreeing, both conceding the symbolism,
the heart acknowledges a momentary thrombosis,
for the losing turnover is a winless loss*
messaging in and about,
an aging staining love losing
~
A no ki tov tuesday poem
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
Holidays--everyone should reconnect
even with people you see everyday but
never speak to because you can tell
you won't like them...
show them some sunshine and brighten their day
overheard while showering in the women's locker room:
"How's the baby?" "He's four and a half."
Whoops
"Hows Max?"
"He's in Rehab, he's not coaching"
"Ah,oh, ah"
Clothed, she rushes for the door
Continuation with another as I toweled off
"The pool at Concord is cold" "is not" "is" "is not" "well, the air there is cold"
(it's' only five minutes away from here)
Let's try this again, shall we? "So what do you do? I mean, besides swim?"
"I go to water aerobics in the morning
then I swim, then I pick up my kids and swim again. And we had a party and some doctors came over (she looks around, especially at my less than perfect physique,
she is about to expel a naughty, bad word that should never meet the ears of polite company
her eyes are red and look like they will fall out of their sockets
like those little ****** dogs
My friend the vet said one's eyeball fell out during an operation
So he put it back
she's roughly my age, but she has a natural tan in the middle of winter
and the sun has written it's thin lined signature all over her face creating the look
of a satellite image of an area once filled with rivulets of water,
but now experiencing a severe drought
but she truly is 99% fat free)
and they were...OBESE. Can you believe it?"
L'horror.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
Are we the cattle of an entire nation?
What have we got to lose? Except for those already lost
You can be docile or violent, just don’t lie in silence!
Rise up! Here begins a new age, end discrimination!
Innocence is dead, the wrong men end up in the jail cell
This place is nice, but life is going to hell
They’re ****** ‘cause the former majority is now a minority
Hypocritical foundations, this land’ll never unite
What happened to Civil Rights?
They only gave us what was left.
You pigs - You must be bored just to send so many to the morgue
I can’t stand to watch the news, this society isn’t one to put kids through
And it’ll only get worse
Time never changes, history repeats
No more running (RISE UP!) This is the culling!
The culling!
Never will I be your *****
The culling! (x2)
The United States lives an ****** Cold War!
(Let’s Rock)
We are the Antiheros, the Public Enemy
Now join me friends, let’s unveil the clarity
Who am I to you? When you look what do you see?
All you see are the colors of sin
The American Dream is broken, you breed loathing
Who can, Who will - Make America Great Again?
I can’t be led by a Puppeteer of Dollar Strings
You wanna make the world free? (HUH?)
But the only thing costless, is the loss of me
Drop it! If she needs and investigation
(She’s out!) That’s the end of an asinine conversation
Rise Up! It’s far too late
I am the spirit of those who live with a target
One wrong factor can end an actor
The leaders are gone, the show is over
It’s the end of the road, but the start of -
The Culling!
A Constitution Diluted by Disillusion
The Culling!
A Jail For A Nationalistic Conspiracist!
Time puses back, but it doesn’t make it better
The War is getting colder and the water’s getting redder
Every Rose has it’s thorns
We are the Bulls with dulled horns - Branded!
We’re the ones you reprimanded!
I! Feel I was born in the wrong time
I’ll go forward and see if they opened their eyes
Or I’ll go back! So I could ****** Revolutionize!
We all see, the ocean is vast
But like the truth and time, It Never Lasts!
Post-Traumatic Society Destruction
The Bliss of Disorder continues to function
All of the ways you hold us down
Leads to a point we take your crown
Everytime you hold us back
Pushed in a corner, poised to attack
One last push against -
The Culling!
We can’t hideaway any longer
The Culling (x3)
Your ignorance makes us stronger
The Culling!
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
there isn't all that much to worship
but the long fingers of some unknown
god granting us with melody
and meaning
or maybe this girl of my dreams
she sells sea shells by the slaughterhouse
a real diamond in the rough
saving dimes to escape from ****** mountain
I found truth in a forgotten library
the rise of the blue lotus
watered by the flooding of pain
dawn appears
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
*The red light’s red but I’m turning right,
The coast is clear – no cars in sight.
I make the turn and I make it slow
On the corner sat a huge cop on his hog.
Sirens blazing like he was late for his grog,
Behind me he flew with lights all a glow.
Pulling over to honor this beast's demand
I already had my license in hand.
He brought his big carcass up to my window
Grabbed my license and ask me what I’m into.
Nothing I said, I’m just headed home,
Then he dripped some sweat onto my chrome.
All at once he started swatting at what he thought was a bee
I said it’s just a horse fly so let it be.
He bent over and looked at me through the window
While asking me, what the hell is a hoss fly?
Not a hoss fly – a horse fly – I said through the window
You know – it’s a fly that flies around and around a horse's ****
He got a little closer and pushed down his shades
And asked me if I was calling him a hoss’s **** in spades.
I said – no sir – not at all – I would never ever
Do anything like that at all – that for me would be too terse.
He said something that I couldn’t understand
When then the fly lit on his Foster Grants.
Cross-eyed he handed me back my license
And began swatting at the thing creating the offense.
But the horse fly was faster than he and had more sense
As he slapped his shades off across into a fence.
The fly flew around and around his head
While he backed out into the street like something ******
I reached through the window and pulled him out of the street
For a car was coming and they were sure to meet.
Realizing now what he had almost done
He shook my hand and said I could go that we were done.
But one more time he stuck his sweaty face in mine
And asked me once again if I was calling him a hoss’s ****
Again I said - no sir, absolutely not but that I couldn't lie -
Sir, you know - you just can’t fool a smart horse fly.*
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
When I see humans of abnormal disproportions
I automatically want to classify them as ******
As guide myself onto the metro, repetition daily
I choose my seat accordingly
only to discover that the B.O stench of the sad
non-hygienic human before me has left their putrid for me to taste
I call this death of my Cilia
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 12:48 PM UTC
when you are eight you will start to become sick of waking
up early to go to church but your mother will drag you
with her anyway and she will always spend too much time on
her makeup so you will both end up being late and the
sweet sickly scent of the perfume she sprays on makes
you sneeze and Sundays will very quickly become
the worst days of the week, this will be when you start
to be ridiculed by all the other girls for having short hair
and this will be when your father starts coming home late
enough for your mother to be suspicious and for the
sound of Frank Sinatra's greatest hits to stop being loud
enough to mask her cries as he hits her for being too **** curious.
Sundays will be when you learn that the devil is an infinite
amount of liars starting with your mother when she says
she is fine and ending with your father when he says
he loves you. now when you are bored you will start to
hide in your closet and pretend to be someone else.
your closet now becomes Narnia, it becomes the rabbit hole Alice falls
into, it becomes Neverland and it becomes the safe haven
your mother's jazz records no longer offer; when you are eight you
will feel the weight of the world stretched out onto your all too
little shoulders, compressed into your mind and a monster in it's
own right that is scarier than the one under your bed because you
cannot find a way to escape it, it lives and breathes inside of you and
it forms a pit in the core of your stomach whenever you see
your mother flinch as your father kisses her softly and later you will
find out that this feeling is called fury but for now it remains
****** into the walls of your mind like a bookshelf at a library
and it surges rapidly like a tsunami and leaves nothing but debris in
it's wake, when you are eight you will begin to dig holes in your
skin with your fingernails to release the pain and the frustration
you feel that causes wreckage inside of you and later on you will
learn to describe this as being cataclysmic but for now you are eight
and you wear your hair in pigtails even though it's much too
short and catch fireflies with mickey mouse in your mind as you
hear frank sinatra's greatest hits become increasingly louder
(h.l.)
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
Every village, town and city of mass proportion is bound to have some
The ‘didn’t make the grade at school’ so who else will now take them
The parents repugnant, ****** and living off the dole
Breed with each other to produce their spawn, the taxpayer taking this toll
Infesting our lives with their spit and their spat, just turn on Jeremy Kyle
You’ll see what I mean, like a bad daydream, their being is utmost vile
Its entertainment to some who revere in this mess, only glad that its not them
Sulking the streets and just on the scrounge and oh look, their face on the News at Ten
****** is harsh as it’s not what I mean, but it fits the slot so well
So why are they here and what is their use, doesn’t the devil need a hand in hell?
But they exist, and you see them every day, hanging on the corner of the street
Even the village idiot had his job, backwards in kind but still rather sweet
So what do we do in trying to combat this evolution, going backwards in the blink of an eye
Education is wasted and the armed forces is a no, it almost makes me want to stop and cry
So this is the way that the human may go, just look back at the millennia’s past
The dinosaurs failed and the mammoth is gone, just how long are we going to last?
The Retards
JJB
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
You are hidden from view
You don’t see me
I don’t see you
This makes me nervous,
You see
I know what you have done
Through history
The wars you’ve caused
The blood you’ve shed
Down so many streets
Rolling heads
Armies and power
Rows of stones
Crosses and flowers
Court jesters
And child molesters
Clowning around
Bishops and criers
Lingering liars
Towers and trials
All of the arrogant
Baying and praying
For a male child
****** horsemen
Hunting with hounds
We no longer want you
Around
Sean Hunt May 5 2016
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
I Eat
I eat fingers, I eat toes,
I will even eat a runny nose.
I eat arms, I eat legs,
I use blood in my scrambled eggs.
I eat eyes, I eat ears,
it goes down good with some cold beers.
I eat hair, I eat skin,
lots of good meat on a human shin.
I eat kidneys, I eat livers,
if you don't like it, cry me some rivers.
I eat guts, I eat brains,
Their already dead, so no one complains.
I eat ***** I eat *****
it tastes better than some milk and a cookie.
I eat veins, I eat a heart,
eating an *** always makes me ****
I eat **** I eat lips,
I will even eat artificial hips.
I eat moles, I eat warts,
I would even eat you stained shorts.
I eat appendix, I eat gall bladder,
on a rope or on a ladder.
I eat small and large intestines,
prison has taught me no lessons.
Some call me a ruthless cannibal,
I started as a child, when I ate then animal,
I'm like a zombie that isn't dead,
maybe its because I'm ******
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC