"indigestion" poems
To **** or not to **** that’s the ******* question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the bowels to suffer
The twists and turns of outrageous rumblings
Or to take action against a bellyful of gas,
And by farting pump one out? To strain, to bloat
No more; and by a mighty outburst we’ll end
The gut’s ache, and the thousand natural stenches
That the **** is heir to, 'tis a resolution
Right devoutly to be wish'd. To **** to ****
But perchance to **** there's the ******* problem;
For in that mighty **** of doom what turds may come,
When we have let the little beauty out from mortal tail,
Must give us pause; there's the danger
That makes calamity of the farter’s life;
For who would bear the sneers and mocks of men,
The neighbour’s shock, the lover’s curling lip,
The pangs of horrid stench, the ******* o’erflowing,
The leaking **** orifice, and the drips,
Impatient strainings that the tragic farter makes,
When he himself might sweet easance make
With a careful prodding finger? Who would a ******** wear,
Grunting and sweating with noisome convulsions,
But that the dread of solids after air-release,
The undiscover'd oozings, from whose delivery
No toilet visitor recovers, puzzles the will,
And makes us bear the bellyache we have
Than fly to others we know not of?
Thus indigestion does make cowards of us all;
And then the native heave of constipation
Is sicklied o'er with the pale fear of defecation;
And enterprises of both ******* and crapping
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of exciting toilet action.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
I heard the world's loudest **** today
It echoed round the town enough to say
*"I am a **** of great renown and fame,
I am a **** who's worthy of the name
Of* KING of FARTS!" Unthinkingly I sniffed
And, let me tell you, I have never whiffed
Aught so potent, dank and dread and foul
Blasted out from heaving human bowel
As that king of farts I smelled today
And which took my ******* breath away.
Who was the pumper of that putrid beauty?
How many curries in the line of duty
Had he consumed? It must have been a man -
No pong so strong ere blew from female can.
Can no one answer yet my urgent question:
And say who suffereth such dire indigestion?
O heavens! his torment must be something chronic.
Can no one subsidise a high colonic
Irrigation to prevent another
Noisier and more noisome than its younger brother?
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
We held hands as time's sand
passed between. Night chocked
the last sun beams. Our conversation
was pertinent to the dwindling
red wine bottle. As the moon glazed
shore began to roar, she whispered
"Let's cuddle." I dropped you, holding her,
and thought "Oh" and began to coddle.
I wrapped myself around her like a shell to a turtle
and she began to nestle on my chest. I guessed
the indigestion came from the Bordeaux bottom.
Boy, was I wrong. See, as I lay with her,
forgetting about you, I remembered
blood is thicker than water. The loves
we choose are stronger than ones
We've fallen into. I wasn't falling there,
underneath the stars, next to the parked car.
I was laying. I was contemplating
as the wind was spraying the lake
into the air.
I came to the conclusion
I was in an illusion of love.
Confounded by smoke and reflections
from movie magicians. She looked up
to me and I guess she could see
my reality crumbling in the breeze.
She asked if I was ok. My slight smile alluded
I was and we laid in love
until the sun's intrusion.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
All through the night
Heartburn kept him sitting up
Stubbornly refusing
To read the signs:
Indigestion...
Heart attack...
Hiatal hernia....
Indigestion...
Hernia...
Heart attack...
Heart attack..
Heart attack.
By five, he agreed...told Mom
Baking soda wouldn't work.
His son came in from checking calves,
Worrying over the kitchen light,
Surprised to see his dad
Still sitting on the couch.
At, "I guess we could go to town,"
Son and wife moved into action.
"I need some help to dress," he said.
His helplessness filled them with dread.
First, some socks, but wait....
The nails were long, unkempt.
"I haven't been able to bend that far,"
My brother took Dad's feet in hand,
Cut the nails,
Wondering how he'd failed
To see how fragile, pale, old
This man we loved and feared
Had somehow suddenly become.
There probably wasn't time
To trim Dad's nails,
What with the heart attack,
And all.
But one should never head to town unkempt...
An old familial rule...
And one should cut one's own nails...don't even ask...
Another family rule....
And last...
Father has the last word...
The rule that kept him home all night,
Instead of calling 911.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
As swarm of aggressive multi-coloured ants,
Evening traffic charms the highway,
Eerie tree shadows haunt the carriageway at three o'clock,
Shadows will reconfigure and extend as time passes through the sundial of my trip,
This burning night, on the way to smoky city,
Inflames the melting tyres, smoking as if sticky molten caramel,
Bathes highway with red hot haze,
I jump as air conditioning, kicks in,
Conning me my journey's nearly done,
In the heat of the evening sun,
Wakes me from my slumbers doze,
Traffic slows through rush hour jams,
Dances,weaving lane to lane,
Through rush hour congestion's indigestion!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
HaHA, I've done it! I've created a device
That can tap into my subconscious
and translate it for all to hear.
I will win the Nobel Prize!
I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams!
People will LIKE me!
So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8.
Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make
sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes. The next
words you hear will surely be written in History books one day,
much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the
first telephone call!
Neural connection is active. Transmitting
**TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE
PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS. PLEASE
PERFORM ******** AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST
MONKS WITH LISPS. COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME
A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS
ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ******
HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF**
Oh dear. This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch?
**JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD
BE A FATHER. JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN
AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA. EDIBLE *******
GIVE YOU INDIGESTION. DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER
WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE
SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)**
Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention
is experiencing technical difficulties. If you would please be patient---
**SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE. NONE OF THE SMURFS
HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE. I WONDER
WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK? **
STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH
DoNT LikE iT? tucK iT bAcK!!
Connection Lost
I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready
for the pubic--er..public. I have run into some...translation
errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things.
Please don't tell my mother.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
The unseen is so intangible to humanity that it screams Hersey in defense of limited carnal senses. Even if the womb could inhabit scientists in pre-birth form they could merely predict that the umbilical cord was the result of the big bang which was brought on by flatulence before the great earthquake of indigestion. The true miracle of birth is the unseen…how in the darkness of gestation a blind love is reflected through a heartbeat that is perceived only physiologically. They could never fathom the deeper water of love that a man has with a women! Conversely we are not immune to this fallibility within the new embryonic process called mother earth and its new limited senses that perceive love as tangible. Love is not a feeling like an umbilical cord or is it a marriage that brings beauty and personal happiness on earth. Love is bigger than the thick and thin of this imperfect dieing world! Marriage is the umbilical cord to a true love that is again unseen and reflected in the heartbeat of the Cross which eclipses all Physiological and cognitive impulses. Love never fades………………….
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
I don't know about butterflies
but
I know happiness.
In my stomach,
I feel only hunger,
fear
and sometimes indigestion;
but never butterflies.
Even when I see her
and she smiles at me,
I feel happy
but my stomach is inactive,
silent.
But
when our fingers interlock
her eyes meet mine
and our smiles parallel,
I cannot help
but
feel at home.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
**A lecherous
demeanor burnt
the tongue,
like cheesy solicitations in
antagonistic ruminations of
ventured conjecture, churning
sputtered calculations,
a tactile exercise
in the biting tang of
eviscerating maceration
regurgitating bitter sediment,
unctuous residue
slid down the throat,
the aftertaste remained
long after it was digested**
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Bazooka that veruka
Wage war on your warts
Charge the canons against corns
And ills of other sorts
Conscript regiments of Rennies
Antacid to supress indigestion
Establish naval fleets
Of fisherman friends sweets
To banish nasal congestion
smear your chest with Vick
To ensure victory is quick
And if headaches ensue
Aspirin will win and subdue
If your enemy is constipation
Let senna be your friend
And if your throat is sore
Let strepsils make swift amends
Show viruses they're not welcome
Fight back with all your might
Give germs no easy terms
And soon you'll feel alright!
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
72 hours in
I'm giving serious thought to
drinking the Listerine.
The ***** is it's citrus flavored.
I can't even rinse with that toxic concoction, let alone swallow it,
but I'm running out of options.
I finished my other MacGyvers--
the Nyquil was first to go,
followed by a Dimetapp chaser
(the cherry,
not a refreshing grape-flavored one)
and a shot of Wal-fed
that induced indigestion.
My kingdom for a belt of whiskey--
maybe a snifter of ***
You know you're bottoming out
when you wax nostalgic
for drunken days
when soiling yourself was justifiable
due to your general state of disarray.
I'm the **** that adheres to the bottom of the barrel—
******* in the shower with my shoes on,
pants removed as a cautionary measure.
Not that life can get worse;
nothing trumps waking up miserable,
sore,
jobless,
alone,
queasy,
woozy and
drooling uncontrollably
and lacking ***** to blame it on.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
Don't call me a volcano,
I don't want to be a volcano!
Sometimes active,
Mostly dormant,
A stiff peak with indigestion,
Birthing igneous isles
across the seas,
Starving for eruption,
Hardening.
Waiting.
Call me a hurricane,
Say it with a tremble.
Never expect me,
Dread my return.
Never dormant,
Always hungry,
Carving my path,
Landmass by landmass,
Conquering, Striding,
Devastating.
Get your facts straight
Before you call me a disaster.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 1:38 PM UTC
Bless me this Mentor of Sole Beauty's Heir
Yet Strong but Soothing Overtones bespoke
Your Man won your Lot; Such Blue Maiden Fair
Whose learned Feathers brushed my mind pre-note
Which perchance teach me this Indigestion
Of Quarter-Terms whose gods we must rely
Your Patience, prized, covet my Attention
Which by tri-week's end I will soon come by
And hope within months my Master become
Whilst you dear Lady try to taste our Flag
I realize, this Truth: Work most embalm
Then my Skills effect to Experience had.
Before I forget, I'll thank in advance
This Dumb Poet's Song in foolish romance.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
Pickled on quixotic tonics
he strives for a polyglot's poise,
balancing plaster peas
at the end of his tippler's tongue.
But the rough-surfaced pearls prickle
his too-ticklish bed of pink,
and gulped down, he administers
only a lessoned indigestion.
Flipping the flop, he prevaricates
himself into the tight-fit corners
of a parallelogram traced
by unsolemn processionals
bedecked in platitudinous finery.
Their porous smirks drip sticky
reminders of a plethora
of previously pernicious exercises
and dampen his fluffy ambition,
prodding procrastinations until
his drunken promise dries out
to become a posthumous wish.
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 5:03 PM UTC
if you won't learn a second tongue, that's foreign to you, like, let's say french, or spanish... don't expect me to "integrate" into your society, and leave my mothertongue in a ditch, in the gutter, in a forgetfullness... i'm keeping mine, and you'll have to cut my tongue off, to make me forget it!
why? what's the main reason? the r! the R!
the trill!
well... i have another name for the so-called trill...
great oral ***
for one...
but in my gob... that letter equates to
a rattlesnake... the english took the ketamine-numbing
approach to the R... the french? they, they...
they just ******* hark it out... ha ha... as if they were clearing
their throats from too many cigarettes the previous day...
my R is a rattlesnake...
so, once more... oh, i learn your language, i'll even
beat you at it... given my current expression...
but forget my mothertongue, and not have the odd sing-along to a song
in my native (tongue)? forget it...
you numbed the R... you're almost swallowing your tongue
when expressing it...
where's your serpent regarding
the letter? oh... an anaconda... quasi-bear-like hibernation
after eating some animal in one gulp...
where is the snake's **** by the way?
do they have one?
i'd love to see a snake take a ****
but that's like: a month's, if not half a year's worth of "indigestion".
n'ah... i'll integrate, for sure, i'll use the tongue,
but not using the native? forget it!
you learn a second tongue! we have to meet halfway, after all.
i feel sorry for R in the hands of the french, or the english...
the former are harking it... the latter are numbing it...
me? thankfully using it like a rattlesnake.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Beneath the water lived a nymph, beautiful as
A flower, if you like woman with petals
Growing from out of their face
And lips adorned with myriad metals
Moving silently with infinite grace.
Fishermen who caught her, in alarm
Tossed her back with dismayed cries
Fearful that she would do them harm
When she exposed her fangs, darting from her eyes,
Forked tongues from each palm.
But apart from all that, she was a delightful creature
As proud as a catwalk model
Sexuality impressed into each feature
Death in each cuddle,
Poison injected from each freshly opening suture.
At the sea’s dark bottom lived the nymph
Devouring fish raw, terrifying sharks and barracuda,
Dining on shellfish and prawns for lunch;
Darting amongst Angel Fish and eels, a hungry aficionada,
Tearing into shreds what she could not crunch.
Gentle with her own kind until coition
Was complete, when if hungry she devoured
Her temporary mate without undue consideration,
No please or thank you. Feeling duly empowered
By her actions, as confirmed by her explosive, acrid indigestion.
No longer young, her children dead,
She glides through the water from China to France
A preposterous seaweed hat upon her head
And in several places, impaling her scaly flesh a serrated coral branch.
Her sartorial taste filling even the sharks with fin-quaking dread.
The last of the kind. The others are (literally) toast.
Protected by animal charities here and abroad
She gladly subsists on ambitious swimmers who venture far from the coast
All she can now catch or afford.
A capricious tyrant until the last, when, victim of a fisherman’s boast
She was hoist up like iniquitous cod
Out of the sea, paraded on the deck while she struggled for breath.
Shot at. Abused. Poked and speared with a steel tipped rod,
Dragged into the harbour, pummelled close to death.
Screaming out, as she in unexpected agony died: “I thought, I truly thought, I was god!”
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
If any of the following side effects occur while taking prednisone, check with your doctor immediately:
More common
Aggression
agitation
anxiety
blurred vision
decrease in the amount of *****
dizziness
fast, slow, pounding, or irregular heartbeat or pulse
headache
irritability
mental depression
mood changes
nervousness
noisy, rattling breathing
numbness or tingling in the arms or legs
pounding in the ears
shortness of breath
swelling of the fingers, hands, feet, or lower legs
trouble thinking, speaking, or walking
troubled breathing at rest
weight gain
Incidence not known
Abdominal or stomach cramping or burning (severe)
abdominal or stomach pain
backache
****** black, or tarry stools
cough or hoarseness
darkening of skin
decrease in height
decreased vision
diarrhea
dry mouth
eye pain
eye tearing
****** hair growth in females
fainting
fever or chills
flushed, dry skin
fractures
fruit-like breath odor
full or round face, neck, or trunk
heartburn or indigestion (severe and continuous)
increased hunger
increased thirst
increased urination
loss of appetite
loss of ****** desire or ability
lower back or side pain
menstrual irregularities
muscle pain or tenderness
muscle wasting or weakness
nausea
pain in back, ribs, arms, or legs
painful or difficult urination
skin rash
sleeplessness
sweating
trouble healing
trouble sleeping
unexplained weight loss
unusual tiredness or weakness
vision changes
vomiting
vomiting of material that looks like coffee grounds
Some prednisone side effects may not need any medical attention. As your body gets used to the medicine these side effects may disappear. Your health care professional may be able to help you prevent or reduce these side effects, but do check with them if any of the following side effects continue, or if you are concerned about them:
More common
Increased appetite
Incidence not known
Abnormal fat deposits on the face, neck, and trunk
acne
dry scalp
lightening of normal skin color
red face
reddish purple lines on the arms, face, legs, trunk, or groin
swelling of the stomach area
thinning of the scalp hair
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
They kissed you with that mouth
Wrote books about you
Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads
For humans with high testosterone to ogle
While they ******* the top of a beer bottle
Like it will bring their fathers acceptance
Back into their eyes.
Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash
Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn
Your spit
Indigestion
Because they kissed you with that mouth.
And you still believe,
You asked for it
You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for
The hood
what good is the hood and the hood-rats
You ******* ***** in alleyways
All 10 of them lined up
said I might as well have the money upfront
If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it
They bashed your head into concrete so hard.
You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like
Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like,
I don’t know your story
I don’t know your name
I don’t know you
I just know that your friend
And my friends
Last night
Came to the conclusion
That you were a ****
And you were asking for it
You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete
And hey maybe you did
Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget
The hate inside
The misogyny you swallow
and wash down the drain
maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like
what being wanted felt like
because you thought you were worth the money
but they didn't
because maybe that's what you asked for
because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes
rather then take your higheels off and fight
because your laughter sounds more broken than you do
because your eyes hold remnants of your skull
because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly
because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist
my male friends the protector of women
came to an agreement
you asked for it
put yourself in the position to
smell the inside of your brain
because your blood meant power
because finishing them off
meant swallowing or bleeding
and you did some of both because
maybe you chose survival
because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with
another mans hands down your throat
some to aid air some
to constrict
weather you bleed or swallow you are only
emptying out
and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but
there is so much anger about what happend to you
and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises.
Because you were once a chandelier of candles
And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building
Because your **** gives you free crack and
My friends have disgust on their faces
And I feel
Pity
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
The night sky is wrapped in curls of black
and the air purrs, fizzes with the sound of hot
fluorescent lights, choking the air with vacation colour,
blinking fast like there’s something in their eyes.
Gulls guffaw in circles over 174,
where inside old wallpaper is torn
and dated lampshades dangle from above.
Two pegs on a line outside my box,
the bed is rickety and isn’t as fit anymore.
The novices, the returnees
seek silver and gold in the oasis
before their feet sting in scorching sand.
Win what you lose, lose what you win,
hold onto it before it tumbles back onto white cushions.
Money hiccups out of ugly machines
when they have a session of indigestion.
Young girls, carefree and cute walk around in a daze
as chubby men waddle along the pavement
thinking of that next pint.
Lined up at the bar with peanuts and bottles,
the large screen projects to all.
A clink of glasses and a click of snooker *****
past nine, past ten, past eleven as well.
And then the plug is pulled out,
everybody settles down to sleep,
but we all know they’ll do it again
when tomorrow’s summer evening calls.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
If you'll pardon the intoxicated indigestion
I have a rather erratic, dogmatic question:
If I woke up in the morning and I were broken
If I have used my last lucky little token
Would you love me still?
Would you join for the thrill?
Would you stay for the past
Or admit it couldn't last?
Time is flying, and I'm tired of trying
To pretend I can't taste the sand.
I loved you through everything
I held you through broken wing
If it were my turn because I wouldn't learn
And had to burn to understand
Would you still hold my hand?
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 3:33 AM UTC
Here is a truth:
We may draw lines around a thing,
but they will never be more
than tricks of the eye.
The shapes of things are blurred
and shift too often
to properly map.
Relax.
Rules and nomenclature
ain't no fun, and
bean counting leads to
indigestion.
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 10:15 AM UTC
I remember the precise moment I stopped loving him.
We had gone out to dinner.
I was just getting back from the lady's room.
He looked up at me and smiled.
His eyes, I noticed, were dead and lifeless.
Not even a dull glimmer of light remained.
I blinked
thinking eyes would appear in the two gaping holes in his face.
They only grew deeper.
He looked at me quizzically.
Perhaps something in my expression had given me away.
I sat down beside him
avoiding looking at what had once been a pair of chlorine blue eyes.
It was as if something had changed in the time it took me to use the restroom.
When I left everything was normal.
But when I came back he was no longer the man I loved.
I denied it for a while,
dismissing it as a feeling that would pass just like indigestion.
But it never did.
It only worsened.
An unexplainable bitterness began to build up inside me.
Today I looked through some old photos of us
and realized that I'd imagined those chlorine blue eyes of his
because he'd never had eyes of his own to begin with.
Funny howI was the one with the eyes and I was blind the whole time.
Maybe I should pluck my eyes out.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Now RESPECT Should Be EARNED...
NOT A Thing That Is... GIVEN... !!!
Cos’ These Days It’s Linked...
To People... TOO QUICK...
And That’s Just MY Opinion... !!!
............ RESPECT...........
SHOULD Hold Dominion... !!!
Like Lands Used By Britain...
To... Secure Positions...
Now... Colony Driven... !!!
A Respect That's RIDDEN...
By FEAR And RACISM... !!!
The Type of RESPECT...
That Should Now Be Left...
For Heads That STILL DREAD...
Respecting THEMSELVES... ?!?
AHEAD of Their Wealth...
And Living In Submission...
So Respect For Them...
Is A MONSTROUS PROBLEM... !!!
Because They LIMIT Thinking...
To Feed Systems Driven...
By Things Like Racism...
And... Colonist Visions...
That KEEP DISRESPECTING... !!!
By Simply INJECTING...
Forms of Indigestion...
That DENY Them Lessons...
About... INTROSPECTION...
... Historical Lessons...
And Stories NOT Vetted...
As Well As Inspected...
To Confirm Their Correctness... !!!
I RESPECT What Is FACT...
NOT... IGNORANT Chat... !!!
Where Intellect’s REJECTED...
Because It’s NOT Selective...
Like... Societal Directives... !!!
That Keep The SICK...
... “ PROTECTED “...
When They’re Found To Be...
.... DISRESPECTING....
The Very Laws That...
... They’re SETTING... !!!
It’s A Sickness That’s UPSETTING...
And PROVEN To Be FACT... !!!
That They CANNOT REDACT...
When It Comes To This VIRUS...
That Respects Like A TYRANT... !!!
When It Comes To Retirement...
of... ELDERS And Minors...
A Respect That Feeds DEATH... !!!!!
So Is Being Accepted By Many Collectives...
Who Seem To RESPECT...
What Is Government Fed... ?!?
Which Makes Little Sense...
When It Comes To What’s Said...
About How They DECEIVE...
And BREAK THEIR OWN Policies... ?
When It Comes To Respecting...
What They Are Suggesting...
..... Humanity NEEDS..... !!!
Now If THEY CAN’T RESPECT...
What They Now ALLEGE...
To Be A DANGEROUS Threat... ?!?
That’s Caused PANDEMIC Deaths... !!!
Let Me Say THAT AGAIN...
... PANDEMIC DEATHS... !!!
When You Take Time To CHECK...
And Your Thoughts You COLLECT...
Does It Make Any Sense...
To... STILL RESPECT THEM... ?!?
I Dunno Anymore...
Whether People RESPECT...
The POWER of THOUGHT...
Or RESPECT People MORE...
Who DEFINE The Word ***** !?!
And REJECT GIFTED Minds...
That’s Right Just Like MINE...
When It Comes To SHARP Rhymes...
That Reflect On The Times...
And Crimes of Human Kind...
That DEFY Common Sense...
And... USING Our Heads... !?!
In Ways Where Brains Work...
To Serve A... GREATER Purpose...
Than Making Cash Burn...
Just Like Some Greedy **** !!!
But In Ways That DESERVE...
To Be Seen By MORE Heads...
As Something of WORTH...
That's REALLY Is Worthy of Earning...
..... “ RESPECT “..... !!!!!
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
my heart missed the lesson on holding back
so
i swallowed my pride and got
indigestion
i'll tell you in the smallest ways until the right way
comes to me,
i'll leave you notes in obscure places and kiss your feet
you are the butterfly branched from the moth,,,
and you are worth the wait.
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 4:58 AM UTC
Step 1: Take a breather. Don't start going insane and terrorizing the city with chainsaws. That is in a later step. Go have a cup of tea. Calm. If you're cold go get a blanket. Think warm thoughts. Imagine you are on fire. Okay, actually never mind, don't do that.
Step 2: Go back to your computer and hold down the off button until it completely shuts off.
Step 3: Scream obscenities at your laptop, kick it and drop it off the roof.
Step 4: Wonder why it isn't turning on.
Step 5: Call your second cousin twice removed's best friend's dogsitter's guitar teacher's Polish-speaking doctor who lives in Germany. Ask him for help. Apologize for thinking she was a man and explain the ****** hair in the pictures and her extremely deep voice were misleading. Say hello a couple times into the receiver before accepting she has hung up on you.
Step 6: Send your second cousin twice removed's best friend's dogsitter's guitar teacher's Polish-speaking doctor who lives in Germany a basket of muffins with a heartfelt apology note written in Korean, to prove you are multi-cultural.
Step 7: Hug your computer and stroke it creepily whispering: Awwww who’s a good laptop?
Step 8: Dump a bucket of water on your computer when it STILL doesn’t turn on. That’ll teach it.
Step 9: Cry about your hair not being shiny enough. Get distracted by a butterfly. Wonder why there is a butterfly in the middle of the arctic. Wonder why you are in the arctic and how you got there.
Step 10: Feed your stupid meany-pants laptop to a polar bear.
Step 11: RUN in terror from the hungry polar bear with indigestion that you have just ****** off.
Step 12: Get your chainsaw and go terrorize the nearest village.
Step 13: Send that village a basket of muffins and a heart-felt apology note written in gibberish so they are impressed by the fact that you are fluent in Gibberish.
(OPTIONAL STEP 14: Send that polar bear a basket of muffins. Just to be nice.)
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC