"isaak" poems - Hello Poetry

.*a viable compensation... males ought to stop being such ***** romantics... how my father plays the Chamberlain to my mother ****** me... and a woman? please... let's just get it over with, castrate me... i have no existential imperative... i am,. the sort of fascist you're supposed t fear... i actually endorse their ideology... i can't sway the opinions of western women... **** 'em... to be honest, the most ****** eruptions i've felt were for Kenyan ivory beauties... ivory? the teeth... skin like molten chocolate... rare for a white man to desire black women...never experienced the Asian fetish... first time in Africa and i recognized in her eyes: we weren't a pair of the ugly people... while shy smoked marijuana on the stealth... god... liquorice in caramel... coconut oil smeared all over her... my one time in Kenya... and i'm looking for a shade... and i also fall in love... and i recognize the eyes that fall love... and everywhere i go... i fall in love... but never stay... a death, the blues, and what comes after: the everyday noose... just prior... come sleep.* ********** i too, am, bewildered at not finding my ego... or rather... pretending to leave with a hard-on... what's wrong with me? or... rather... what's wrong with you? blame games can only go so far.... i can only pretend to give a **** having listened to enough chris isaak songs... after a while... i'm "thinking".... if this doesn't have rooney mara to compensate with... **** you... i'll eat the cauliflower... point break ***** of the 21st century... i'll scratch my beard and pretend to shave... o.k.?! hard-on, no ego... ego, no hard-on... i guess thinking's side-effect is that that... thinking... sometimes paralyzes.... good to know-ro-ro-robot-good-to-go.

0

Nov 10, 2018

Nov 10, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

your wish, is my chore / liquorice in caramel

.*a viable compensation... males ought to stop being such ***** romantics... how my father plays the Chamberlain to my mother ****** me... and a woman? please... let's just get it over with, castrate me... i have no existential imperative... i am,. the sort of fascist you're supposed t fear... i actually endorse their ideology... i can't sway the opinions of western women... **** 'em... to be honest, the most ****** eruptions i've felt were for Kenyan ivory beauties... ivory? the teeth... skin like molten chocolate... rare for a white man to desire black women...never experienced the Asian fetish... first time in Africa and i recognized in her eyes: we weren't a pair of the ugly people... while shy smoked marijuana on the stealth... god... liquorice in caramel... coconut oil smeared all over her... my one time in Kenya... and i'm looking for a shade... and i also fall in love... and i recognize the eyes that fall love... and everywhere i go... i fall in love... but never stay... a death, the blues, and what comes after: the everyday noose... just prior... come sleep.* ********** i too, am, bewildered at not finding my ego... or rather... pretending to leave with a hard-on... what's wrong with me? or... rather... what's wrong with you? blame games can only go so far.... i can only pretend to give a **** having listened to enough chris isaak songs... after a while... i'm "thinking".... if this doesn't have rooney mara to compensate with... **** you... i'll eat the cauliflower... point break ***** of the 21st century... i'll scratch my beard and pretend to shave... o.k.?! hard-on, no ego... ego, no hard-on... i guess thinking's side-effect is that that... thinking... sometimes paralyzes.... good to know-ro-ro-robot-good-to-go.

30

here comes the baggage, here comes the sermon... and... oh look... here; also comes; the, person... lucky you! i actually prefer the elongated pauses from excessive drinking, thank this excess of punctuation markers being employed.... we already get the part about soppy poetry and broken hearts... i don't drink and listen to chris isaak... i tend to eat something... **** requires a stimulation of a palette to eat, and be listened to!

0

Sep 29, 2018

Sep 29, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

the holy trinity: if this is what the existence of similar people feels like: argument

here comes the baggage, here comes the sermon... and... oh look... here; also comes; the, person... lucky you! i actually prefer the elongated pauses from excessive drinking, thank this excess of punctuation markers being employed.... we already get the part about soppy poetry and broken hearts... i don't drink and listen to chris isaak... i tend to eat something... **** requires a stimulation of a palette to eat, and be listened to!

25

In those freeform movements, Your small hands, twitch out the blueprints, for a life well lived on my chest I find more of myself in your light-shy eyes, every second, I feel more than ever.

0

Oct 24, 2018

Oct 24, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC

wa-west

Isaak

In those freeform movements, Your small hands, twitch out the blueprints, for a life well lived on my chest I find more of myself in your light-shy eyes, every second, I feel more than ever.

8