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"intestine" poems
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski? and I said forget that I do not feel good I've got the sad sads all I want to do is **** you and she laughed she thought I was being clever and O I just looked up her long slim legs of heaven I saw her liver and her quivering intestine I saw Christ in there jumping to a folk-rock all the long lines of starvation within me rose and I walked over and grabbed her on the couch ripped her dress up around her face and I didn't care **** or the end of the earth one more time to be there anywhere real yes her ******* were on the floor and my **** went in my **** my god my **** went in I was Charles Somebody.
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16.2k
Somebody
Look in the mirror. Let us both look. Here is my naked body. Apparently you like it, I have no reason to. Who bound us, me and my body? Why must I die together with it? I have the right to know where the borderline between us is drawn. Where am I, I, I myself. Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines? In the hollow of the *** In a toe? Apparently in the brain. I do not see it. Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right to see myself. Don’t laugh. That’s macabre, you say. It’s not me who made my body. I wear the used rags of my family, an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair after my grandmother, the nose glued together from a few dead noses. What do I have in common with all that? What do I have in common with you, who like my knee, what is my knee to me? Surely I would have chosen a different model. I will leave both of you here, my knee and you. Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body to play with. And I will go. There is no place for me here, in this blind darkness waiting for corruption. I will run out, I will race away from myself. I will look for myself running like crazy till my last breath. One must hurry before death comes. For by then like a dog ****** by its chain I will have to return into this stridently suffering body. To go through the last most strident ceremony of the body. Defeated by the body, slowly annihilated because of the body I will become kidney failure or the gangrene of the large intestine. And I will expire in shame. And the universe will expire with me, reduced as it is to a kidney failure and the gangrene of the large intestine.
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12k
Large Intestine
Look in the mirror. Let us both look. Here is my naked body. Apparently you like it, I have no reason to. Who bound us, me and my body? Why must I die together with it? I have the right to know where the borderline between us is drawn. Where am I, I, I myself. Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines? In the hollow of the *** In a toe? Apparently in the brain. I do not see it. Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right to see myself. Don’t laugh. That’s macabre, you say. It’s not me who made my body. I wear the used rags of my family, an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair after my grandmother, the nose glued together from a few dead noses. What do I have in common with all that? What do I have in common with you, who like my knee, what is my knee to me? Surely I would have chosen a different model. I will leave both of you here, my knee and you. Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body to play with. And I will go. There is no place for me here, in this blind darkness waiting for corruption. I will run out, I will race away from myself. I will look for myself running like crazy till my last breath. One must hurry before death comes. For by then like a dog ****** by its chain I will have to return into this stridently suffering body. To go through the last most strident ceremony of the body. Defeated by the body, slowly annihilated because of the body I will become kidney failure or the gangrene of the large intestine. And I will expire in shame. And the universe will expire with me, reduced as it is to a kidney failure and the gangrene of the large intestine.
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57
"No, the serpent did not ****** Eve to the apple. All that's simply Corruption of the facts. Adam ate the apple. Eve ate Adam. The serpent ate Eve. This is the dark intestine. The serpent, meanwhile, Sleeps his meal off in Paradise - Smiling to hear God's querulous calling."
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5k
Theology
I like slandering your makeshift forceps. I hammer you down with watery *** and then spill the remainder on the couch. Yarg! A diamond’s worth at least a small intestine, and you are worth whatever’s left over after night has upended itself, poured sideways out of its shellacked crawlspace, and turned the basement sour. There are remnants of you in the park, some red stain by the baseball field where, if you’ll remember, you watched little leaguers build teamwork, and faint splotches on tree bark from your lactations which, if you’ll remember, happened every morning. I whisper your godforsaken name and am slapped in the head. The children cry when I smile. I cry when the children smile. Good heavens. I forbid you from not entering my corridor, even as I set up a barricade. I like my water scalding, my passion chilled, and I like you in easy-to- swallow doses. I like you in my eggs. Ditto the faucet, keyboard, the occasional lily, but do not mess with my pearls. I mumble of apodictic meadows while I sleep. What can I say? I do not mumble of unclogging your bathtub, which has a certain foul repute, and has grown heavy and ugly with your hair, which is everywhere, just as you are everywhere, and wherever, and so ********* hidden it’s not funny anymore, we stopped looking some millennia ago, after scouring the drainpipes, kicking down your doors, dissecting your mattress, speculating about your burial site, etcetera, and even so we have not been really looking all this time, have we, just blaring your name through the speakers, putting wrong numbers on our calling cards, leaving uncooked meat out on the back porch as if you were a raccoon, oh, or a lion, which you are not, or not quite, though, as the books say, you have honey in your stomach, and if you could but be ripped open we would taste and see.
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:21 PM UTC
Sleep-deprived Birdcall (in the year in which the weather cancelled the subcommittee on the weather)
I like slandering your makeshift forceps. I hammer you down with watery *** and then spill the remainder on the couch. Yarg! A diamond’s worth at least a small intestine, and you are worth whatever’s left over after night has upended itself, poured sideways out of its shellacked crawlspace, and turned the basement sour. There are remnants of you in the park, some red stain by the baseball field where, if you’ll remember, you watched little leaguers build teamwork, and faint splotches on tree bark from your lactations which, if you’ll remember, happened every morning. I whisper your godforsaken name and am slapped in the head. The children cry when I smile. I cry when the children smile. Good heavens. I forbid you from not entering my corridor, even as I set up a barricade. I like my water scalding, my passion chilled, and I like you in easy-to- swallow doses. I like you in my eggs. Ditto the faucet, keyboard, the occasional lily, but do not mess with my pearls. I mumble of apodictic meadows while I sleep. What can I say? I do not mumble of unclogging your bathtub, which has a certain foul repute, and has grown heavy and ugly with your hair, which is everywhere, just as you are everywhere, and wherever, and so ********* hidden it’s not funny anymore, we stopped looking some millennia ago, after scouring the drainpipes, kicking down your doors, dissecting your mattress, speculating about your burial site, etcetera, and even so we have not been really looking all this time, have we, just blaring your name through the speakers, putting wrong numbers on our calling cards, leaving uncooked meat out on the back porch as if you were a raccoon, oh, or a lion, which you are not, or not quite, though, as the books say, you have honey in your stomach, and if you could but be ripped open we would taste and see.
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blood stained fingernails hollow eyed intestine pasta with a beating heart side you don't need it but i need it a swig of ipecac to polish off your favorite shade of wine a kick of copper and regret but i am eating her stomach grew smaller she drowned a little deeper a nasty lie beneath gritted teeth come back darling, dinner is served
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
cannibalism
** A fast-track court in the capital city; A Judiciary of a democratic Country; Hearing the a gang-rape case, reserved its order on the quantum of Punishment for the four convicted in the Gang-rape and ****** of a 23-year-old innocent girl A 237- page judgment, Noting that that the Crime was committed in an extremely brutal manner. “The major part of her intestine was pulled out from the body,” the Doctor  said. The prosecution has sought the death penalty for the four convicts, while the Defense lawyers for the Convicted are pleading for a lenient verdict. The arguments in the gruesome gang-rape case are over and sentencing will be announced at 2.30 pm on Friday, 13th September, 2013 "The sentence which is very appropriate is nothing short of death," special public prosecutor told the court. “The common man will lose faith in the judiciary if the harshest punishment is not given “ the Judge remarked; Guilty of ****** Gang **** Unnatural *** Criminal conspiracy,   destruction of evidence, Kidnapping and attempting to **** the  eyewitness  said The fifth convict Committed suicide in Tihar Jail in March this year The sixth convict was a juvenile at the time of the incident and has been given a three- year term in a reformation home. A fast-track court, A Judiciary of a democratic Country will order Stop Crime against women ! “Hang them, Not let them go free” ** ______________________________________________ BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
“ Hang them, Not let them go ! ”
Brother Bear (your name in English) once again we meet in joy. Soon our laughter rolls across the fields and plains and forests, boy. My best friend, my twin although you're twin years younger than I am.  Still in many ways superior to this rough and rugged man. *Hark, I feel my stomach shiver. I can hear my liver sigh. I can sense my brain's uneasiness, I hear my kidneys cry. I can feel my long intestine curling up and screaming WHY!? I can smell the smoke from meat ablaze across the summer sky.*
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
Beer and BBQ
The day I knew you died was the day my brother called and the day the cat left a half-eaten mouse on the front porch. Its tail was still there, and a little bit of pink intestine, like an exclamation mark. I swore silently. Trudging toward the back field that evening, (the mosquitoes were a ***** I found you in the creek, half submerged with your *** in the air. You were covered in dirt and blood. I put my hands on my hips and swore again. I could see even from where I was standing that your windshield was smashed all to hell and your right front tire was punctured. I would never ride with you again, never share those starry skies as we passed bloated raccoons and greasy ditches. Anger lurked behind my eyes. Your killer was lying a few feet away, Three broken legs and a shattered back, with glassy eyes that stared blankly up at the sky. In a few days I would have its antlers above the mantelpiece. But meanwhile I looked at my brother, who was standing there sheepishly, two unbroken hands shoved in his deep denim pockets, and told him he was paying for the tow.
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
Red Truck
Women of the ROK [South Korea] unite to protest the rash of digital camera up-skirting, hidden toilet cams & dressing room holes by an avant-garde subculture whose sole aim is to redefine beauty from  the bottom up; tearing down the old order    of mere very pretty faces for the surprise   the unseen; online ******* poets who wax romantically;  over South Korean women who wear the shortest skirts of any westernized Asian country; therefore, where the average woman is expected to be above average, what could be better than a possible *** or period stain; [        ], Rupi Koar laid the foundation [her soiled garments stinking of Canadian Desi BO; dreaming wistfully of the blossoming cherry-trees in the hidden grove, streams of crystalline blood threading through the golden grass; (dead as if she was [Sleeping Beauty (on the toilet)]) & w/ healthy [or unhealthy] doses of Baudelaire, Swinburne, Poe, Sade & Wilde; this new school of poets celebrating female underwear & bottoms & beyond; what could future generations make of various Internet pseudo-intellectual movements all coalescing into a monolithic computer culture driven by the embarrassment & shame of its female members & their ***** backsides & underwear; essentially odes on her laundry basket, odes on her farts, odes on her leavings, odes on her mother's droppings & leavings, &        her grandmothers' mothers leavings; South Korean women are the original race,                their intestine driven by pure lust [a South Korean woman's soul  is in her belly]
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
the new korean ******* poetry
Women of the ROK [South Korea] unite to protest the rash of digital camera up-skirting, hidden toilet cams & dressing room holes by an avant-garde subculture whose sole aim is to redefine beauty from  the bottom up; tearing down the old order    of mere very pretty faces for the surprise   the unseen; online ******* poets who wax romantically;  over South Korean women who wear the shortest skirts of any westernized Asian country; therefore, where the average woman is expected to be above average, what could be better than a possible *** or period stain; [        ], Rupi Koar laid the foundation [her soiled garments stinking of Canadian Desi BO; dreaming wistfully of the blossoming cherry-trees in the hidden grove, streams of crystalline blood threading through the golden grass; (dead as if she was [Sleeping Beauty (on the toilet)]) & w/ healthy [or unhealthy] doses of Baudelaire, Swinburne, Poe, Sade & Wilde; this new school of poets celebrating female underwear & bottoms & beyond; what could future generations make of various Internet pseudo-intellectual movements all coalescing into a monolithic computer culture driven by the embarrassment & shame of its female members & their ***** backsides & underwear; essentially odes on her laundry basket, odes on her farts, odes on her leavings, odes on her mother's droppings & leavings, &        her grandmothers' mothers leavings; South Korean women are the original race,                their intestine driven by pure lust [a South Korean woman's soul  is in her belly]
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*come with me to the ****** motel it could be so tender as **** as hell we can kiss awhile i'd lick you sweet and then bend you over and cut your feet *** honey you can't walk anymore no matter darling i'm a blood **** ***** **** me daddy soon i'll be dead i want it in the mouth crush my head not so soon my sweet little ****** first lose some blood to get you all woozy stand on the toilet a rope around you neck on tippy toes you'll soon be a wreck i'd love to shoot you want it in the *** in the intestine the bullet will pass ooow honey yes let me spread wide then shoot me through is that how i died no baby that was just for fun i cumed in your *** my **** was the gun oh **** me soon you begged and you cried i need it my love so your hands i tied i ****** you and ****** you ready to *** i yanked your head back and you licked up my **** are you ready sweet girl you lifted your head my **** in your *** a dagger of dread i slit your throat ever so slow you ****** and you shimmied and the blood did flow you got on top your **** in my face i drank from your throat you bled out with grace i loved you so and called your name you fell over dead but who's to blame oh my darling you wanted to go black emerald death an ******** show pretty dead girl im still kissing you but i have to leave boo hoo hoo*
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Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
The ****** Motel...Ero ****
I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie world. Life’s fantastic! I feel like plastic, aiming for an 18-inch waist because I can afford to throw my internal organs away. I feel like plastic, a neck so slender I have to choose between eating and breathing; there’s not enough space for two tubes. I feel like plastic, a 38-inch bust and 3-times the average amount of forehead. I feel like plastic, a size nine shoe squeezed to a three, spending three to nine avoiding meal time because my weight-loss book says, “Don’t eat.” I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life’s fantastic, but I’m not plastic. Bile tastes all too organic, its taste chasing after me if I exceed my daily nutritional limit of 2,000 calories. I’m skinny enough that people think I’m healthy. I’m not skinny enough for people to think I’m unhealthy. Anorexia is as familiar as the back of my hand, poised like a gun to the back of my throat, waiting and ready to blow. I’m a sixteen-year-old suicide case, product of the war of production, wearing battle wounds in the form of uniform lines across the tops of my thighs. I’ve been rewriting this poem since its conception. I feel like the rough draft: concision is key. (Be smaller.) I’m trying rewriting, trying to leave out things that aren’t important enough, like: four of my ribs and my esophagus and my stomach and my small intestine. I’m testing the limits of realism. But here’s the thing: I’m a real girl in a real world. Life’s not always fantastic, but I am not plastic. I am not plastic. I refuse to be plastic, aiming for generic weight range based on content, not scale number. I refuse to be plastic, eating and breathing like both are vital aspects to living. I refuse to be plastic, an actual hip-to-bust ratio for not a thirty-year-old but a teenager. I refuse to be plastic, shoe size nine in size nine shoes, trying to start enjoying mealtimes because my “weight-loss book” has been chucked down the chute. I’m a living girl in a terrifying world, trying to remind myself that “Life in Plastic!” is not fantastic.
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Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 8:00 PM UTC
revisiting Barbie Girl
I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie world. Life’s fantastic! I feel like plastic, aiming for an 18-inch waist because I can afford to throw my internal organs away. I feel like plastic, a neck so slender I have to choose between eating and breathing; there’s not enough space for two tubes. I feel like plastic, a 38-inch bust and 3-times the average amount of forehead. I feel like plastic, a size nine shoe squeezed to a three, spending three to nine avoiding meal time because my weight-loss book says, “Don’t eat.” I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life’s fantastic, but I’m not plastic. Bile tastes all too organic, its taste chasing after me if I exceed my daily nutritional limit of 2,000 calories. I’m skinny enough that people think I’m healthy. I’m not skinny enough for people to think I’m unhealthy. Anorexia is as familiar as the back of my hand, poised like a gun to the back of my throat, waiting and ready to blow. I’m a sixteen-year-old suicide case, product of the war of production, wearing battle wounds in the form of uniform lines across the tops of my thighs. I’ve been rewriting this poem since its conception. I feel like the rough draft: concision is key. (Be smaller.) I’m trying rewriting, trying to leave out things that aren’t important enough, like: four of my ribs and my esophagus and my stomach and my small intestine. I’m testing the limits of realism. But here’s the thing: I’m a real girl in a real world. Life’s not always fantastic, but I am not plastic. I am not plastic. I refuse to be plastic, aiming for generic weight range based on content, not scale number. I refuse to be plastic, eating and breathing like both are vital aspects to living. I refuse to be plastic, an actual hip-to-bust ratio for not a thirty-year-old but a teenager. I refuse to be plastic, shoe size nine in size nine shoes, trying to start enjoying mealtimes because my “weight-loss book” has been chucked down the chute. I’m a living girl in a terrifying world, trying to remind myself that “Life in Plastic!” is not fantastic.
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The desired gene could be found In each cell of the body, But it expresses positively in few cells. A trefoil factor encoding gene I mean, It is found in the intestine TFF1 is found exclusively in the intestine. TFF1 is also known as pS2 Meaning protein for specificity 2, 2nd gene discovered for specificity protein. TFF1 protects gastrointestinal mucosa, From any injuries that may result Out of pathogenic invasion. The trefoil factor 2 encoding gene Is also found in the intestine But TFF2 plays a different role in the body. TFF2 is also known as pS1 Meaning protein for specificity 1, 1st gene discovered for specificity protein. TFF2 protects gastrointestinal mucosa, From any cancer that may result Out of oncogenic activity. And the third trefoil factor encoding gene, It is only expressed in the female womb But TFF3 is crucial for a successful pregnancy. I love my field of study very much And I respect my major guide, Dr Ashok Kumar Mohanty, he is so wise.
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Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
New Ideas
“How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out Yes! No!” –Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!” 1. The coils of this labyrinth remind me of the small intestine. This vexes me. Walking the labyrinth is supposed to be a spiritual experience, isn’t it? Neither time nor place for unlovely images of the body. The truth is that I dislike the labyrinth. I find it too constraining, too tedious—all these looping, repetitive coils. The truth is that I hate the labyrinth because it is pale and remote, and silently indifferent to me. If I am going to engage with something, I’d like for it to talk back, please. I have questions, you know. I have some concerns. And perhaps just one or two small issues with control, and delayed gratification. 2. “I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals” (Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!”). 3. “Watch how we encounter each other,” you say, and we walk, slowly, separately. Around one turn we meet, and you kiss me, and your tongue is muscular and wet. Around another turn you say, over your shoulder, “Hello,” and continue walking. It is hard for me to keep my balance even though the path is smooth and flat. I feel like we are in a Magritte painting. Your white shirt glows softly somewhere to the left of my awareness. A voice not connected to your body says, “Do you like my hat?” We are walking. We are together. We are not together. 4. “Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work” (Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!”). 5. So now: Quiet, quiet—the darkness is full. Your skin is listening to the night air. In the center of the labyrinth, someone has placed a gift. Quiet, quiet—someone is telling you a story. The oldest story in the world, and his body hums and pulses under your fingers. In the center, there is a gift. Quiet, quiet—this is not walking. This is surrendering to the path, your body long and outstretched against the stones. In the center, someone has placed a gift.
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Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
Labyrinth
“How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out Yes! No!” –Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!” 1. The coils of this labyrinth remind me of the small intestine. This vexes me. Walking the labyrinth is supposed to be a spiritual experience, isn’t it? Neither time nor place for unlovely images of the body. The truth is that I dislike the labyrinth. I find it too constraining, too tedious—all these looping, repetitive coils. The truth is that I hate the labyrinth because it is pale and remote, and silently indifferent to me. If I am going to engage with something, I’d like for it to talk back, please. I have questions, you know. I have some concerns. And perhaps just one or two small issues with control, and delayed gratification. 2. “I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals” (Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!”). 3. “Watch how we encounter each other,” you say, and we walk, slowly, separately. Around one turn we meet, and you kiss me, and your tongue is muscular and wet. Around another turn you say, over your shoulder, “Hello,” and continue walking. It is hard for me to keep my balance even though the path is smooth and flat. I feel like we are in a Magritte painting. Your white shirt glows softly somewhere to the left of my awareness. A voice not connected to your body says, “Do you like my hat?” We are walking. We are together. We are not together. 4. “Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work” (Mary Oliver, “Yes! No!”). 5. So now: Quiet, quiet—the darkness is full. Your skin is listening to the night air. In the center of the labyrinth, someone has placed a gift. Quiet, quiet—someone is telling you a story. The oldest story in the world, and his body hums and pulses under your fingers. In the center, there is a gift. Quiet, quiet—this is not walking. This is surrendering to the path, your body long and outstretched against the stones. In the center, someone has placed a gift.
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Fish intestine and egg sac soup- do yourself a favor and call it noodles and beans, but still try it!
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Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 7:35 AM UTC
noodles and beans
there ain’t no ground for me to play on and there ain’t no music to play, anyway, just another day another life another scythe ringing in the distant fields and that little thing you thought so fine she was just some cheap cherry wine and I thought myself fine sauvignon though I did fail French a few times but at least I didn’t get left in the distant field to be harvested by the farmer to be sold at the market to be broken apart and maimed beyond measure. those lips eating though, they sure feel nice against ya, they sure do someone justice when they’re kissing all over and massaging your broken body but there’s no music down in the gullet there ain’t no sound but the deep and soulful murmurings of the stomach, the intestine, the **** that will birth me once more and again I’ll be in the water and mix with the ocean and become the rain and rise oh la la la la la la la la rise I’ll rise above it all and rain down your body and my body and all these broken, mutilated grain-bodies and pour it all down on you and the fields and that little thing you left lying in the middle of seas of wheat she’s screaming to the sky roaring to the rain that falls telling me all she knew all she loved none about you all of it runs all of it resounds making music on the ground and singing all in the air
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
ain't no ground for me to play on
I am so hungry I think my LARGE intestine is eating up my small intestine!
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
waiting for Pizza
you are the bread to my bread you are the sun to my skin caNCER you are the funny meme to my internet you are the birth of my dad you are the dolo solo mr man to my kiss you are the keyboard to my **** you are the haircut to my vest you are the jelly to my small intestine j.j
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
jelly
You won't like Your colonoscopy, I know, I've not liked mine. It's invasive, You're contorted, And the Prep Is too unkind. Yet, One needs A **** snoop In the Intestine. It postpones Eternity, That makes it Worth your time.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Colonoscopy
you know, the one with the guy and that girl in the train station bar where they just keep trying drinks and looking at things and making conversation while avoiding the big issues? It’s like that whenever we talk. Like, there’s something between us, curled like an unborn fetus ******* the life right out of the womb. This thing that makes me want to scream out loud for you to pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease just stop talking because every time you tell me you care the fetus wiggles. And every time you say “I still want to be friends” it latches onto some part of my gut and begins ******* what little happiness is left in my heart through my small intestine. And regardless of how licorice life tastes, and how many places we visit, how many drinks we try or times we **** there’s always going to be this empty place, this space where I let you let the air in even if I didn’t want it. You promised this would be simple.
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Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 10:56 PM UTC
Hills Like White Elephants
first, a raccoon wrapped within its own intestine. the asphalt is its grave; i swerve to miss it. we shared the same air, maybe even a common ancestor. someone moved too fast to care. its the ones with fast cars and slow minds pretty faces and ugly intent artificial kindness but genuine hate i'm not your friend just a similar sense of self it is fat priests playing golf lottery ticket paradises restaurants embellished mechanized slaughter fake laughter and even faker love shopping mall environmentalists lexus-driving christians paychecks, TV, lawn mowing sundays drink yourself to death please. the least among us in control deprived of the mind the stench of their egos and their hypocrisy the gasoline, the cash, and the forced smiles as i write people die children die i'm like many the fool who knows but does nothing the one who doesn't know that's the good person the moral person. second, a rant, a ****** off rage the days are stale, self-actualize, the Earth remains the same dry and motionless middle-class frustration, planetary confusion, the ***** of the Earth, capsized like dying branches in a wal-mart state of mind, stupid slobs, rodent minded social egoists over-organized, clean freak object fetishists the evolutionary dollar sign they bay at the moon, it's made of cheesecake phase transitioning, you blood clot, Earthly blood clot, you don't know art now there's ancient blood on my hands smokeless, plantless, Earthless blood detached from Gaian consciousness stain on the mind confused, clogged pathways, clogged with self-righteous mind flood piles of ***** tissue, waning and waxing force feed me your ******** please because i have no idea how to answer in this cultural blood bath it is the end of time the end of mind. :aaphi
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Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
words from an optimist
first, a raccoon wrapped within its own intestine. the asphalt is its grave; i swerve to miss it. we shared the same air, maybe even a common ancestor. someone moved too fast to care. its the ones with fast cars and slow minds pretty faces and ugly intent artificial kindness but genuine hate i'm not your friend just a similar sense of self it is fat priests playing golf lottery ticket paradises restaurants embellished mechanized slaughter fake laughter and even faker love shopping mall environmentalists lexus-driving christians paychecks, TV, lawn mowing sundays drink yourself to death please. the least among us in control deprived of the mind the stench of their egos and their hypocrisy the gasoline, the cash, and the forced smiles as i write people die children die i'm like many the fool who knows but does nothing the one who doesn't know that's the good person the moral person. second, a rant, a ****** off rage the days are stale, self-actualize, the Earth remains the same dry and motionless middle-class frustration, planetary confusion, the ***** of the Earth, capsized like dying branches in a wal-mart state of mind, stupid slobs, rodent minded social egoists over-organized, clean freak object fetishists the evolutionary dollar sign they bay at the moon, it's made of cheesecake phase transitioning, you blood clot, Earthly blood clot, you don't know art now there's ancient blood on my hands smokeless, plantless, Earthless blood detached from Gaian consciousness stain on the mind confused, clogged pathways, clogged with self-righteous mind flood piles of ***** tissue, waning and waxing force feed me your ******** please because i have no idea how to answer in this cultural blood bath it is the end of time the end of mind. :aaphi
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listen. steal what joy you can when living this violent and short life. a single time-line -- a period lived -- is an epoch ruminating with none. we are cats awaiting guts strung -- whole intestine, specific -- for better resonance from hallowed body. from hand-crafted hollowed mass. perhaps this gutted vessel imbibed the desk-liquor with hope and want for muse of mans' own hands. perhaps John Henry split my heart, and i seek retribution with pointless pen strokes. smoking, intention broke from form, if only to deceive that these hands will never callous climbing mountains. will never rip wide this chest. will never witness in true this full-moon heart. perhaps stubbornness will prevail, per chance I will be found witness of the ball-lightning striking valley walls and boulders, perched ageless, are haven sought.
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
(Hemingway would scoff)
Flames, flames, fire! Hearts loaded with embers, Begone flame, you hold no sway! Pooled in blood, The melting moon Shines far above Warming your frigid eyes With shards of night and Blaring beams of white Crushing the natural mind With ballads of war and pain, Spitting moments of gore through Abyssal pupils.   Prepare this intestine of youth,        Detach its origin and cast it unto             A forest with one tree. Then char the strand of mind in which Fear reigns, scar it with the memory        Of life Let it kneel to your flight And Bring it fore your eyes, Caging the slithering chimera with      Immense cliffs of ice Let it look to your matter Yet never engage your voice, Fluxing into your cells with terrific       Color, Breaking off the origin and planting It’s lessons in between the soul and       Skin, Offering access to any lost traveler Drowning in a raging sea. Embers in your heart,        Fire consuming without,        Fire empowers within
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
Flames, Flames, Fire!
it is not butterflies you placed in my tummy, but large ferocious birds, with wingspans fluttering against the inners of my lungs, beaks prodding my intestine, their necks snarling with my esophagus. their caws pulsate in and out my pores, and these birds want to fly, fly, fly towards you. but i bite with anxious molars, and their blood tastes like cranberries. choking up red soaked feathers, i wonder if you have birds too.
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Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
birds of a feather
I No! stop! don't do this please! I'll give you whatever you want! just don't do this! Anything you ask anything! Just stop right now! You can smoke! You can drink! Drive recklessly! Whatever you please! Love There is no going back from this! Remember your pain? Remember the torment you faced? that intestine prying emptiness? The mind searing fact that you faced? Remember how good it felt when you finally let go? You don't need this! You are better off without it! You
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
No! Stop!
Oh my love, You are the three day old milkshake to my fuzzy green polyp, You are the scummy rotten pizza to my mold, The intestine to my tape worminess, Undoubtedly the toes to my carnivorous fungi, The grungy wet towels to my mildew, The unbrushed gums to my pus filled canker, The ancient decaying wood to my deadly black sludge, The inflamed skin to my oozing pustule, The cone shape to my keratoacanthoma... Without you; I would cease to exist.
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Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
My Moldy Love