Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"juiciest" poems
Adios England's Venus flytrap May you ever overflow inside our rectums You were the ornament that inserted itself Where spunks were pelted to pieces You ********** in the open air to our promontory And you squirted to those inside ******** Now you reciprocate to Abraham's ***** And the black holes crack spew out your barber's pole And it seems to me you tasted your ***** Like a cigarette lighter in the diarrhoea Never drooping with knobs on the cherry lips When the ooze congeal within And your smells will always regurgitate here Along England's juiciest blast—offs Your cigarette lighter's exploded spew out long before Your whiff ever go the whole hog Voluptuousness we've jiggled These frenzied wombs of time needing your clenched fist This lava lamp we'll always get pregnant For our breed's fair—haired brats And even though we have a finger in The clean breast seduces us to moistness All our foghorns cannot **** The ecstasy you stimulated us throughout the age groups
0
Apr 2, 2010
Apr 2, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
Cigarette Lighter In The Diarrhoea 1997
The clustered, green orbs, glow with juice and lighted sun, The leaves wave in the gentle breeze "welcome" to all, have fun, But seasons ripe for theft and thieves, Who would steal into these nights,           to remove the juiciest of these, Bacchus treasures and treats with perfected age,                   the hope of pouring a glass                   of crystal clear bliss                   could be gone, amiss, by some who would crush the cherished taste, and end this seasons harvest in empty sadness; empty vine, oh the shame, the crime of stealing grapes that belong to another's claim! We have found the answer to our dilemma, "Worry not dear friend, i will be there for you my eyes are ever so watchful, and my bright white wing span will cause even the hardiest mischief maker to turn away, while my tail will beat and chase them from your grounds, God's vineyards your bounty this and every day, until you pick your crop at its best but I have only one humble request, That you save the juiciest single grape for me king of the Dragons, that fly." ©DWE082013 inspiration provided by photo provided by Scott Olson
0
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
The Harvest of Grapes is Safe, It is protected by Dragons
I will do these amazing things, just for you... I will go to the nearby garden of my neighbour, and steal the juiciest fruits, the tastes of which contain the wondrous tales of the trees, you will be so excited to listen to the tale of the mother parrot, who tasted every Guava, and took the bite only from the sweetest part to share with her children. This neighbour might come after me carrying his stick, but any risk can be taken, for our fruity moments of togetherness, when we will sit cuddled, and munch on fruits making surpy-surpy sounds... I will make an orchestra consisting of singing bulbuls, koyals, pigeons and sparrows, and will not say no to any bird or animal who wants to join in. For example, crickets and monkeys, can join in, and even happy wolves with their hoo-hoos. We should not say no to anyone, because although our orchestra may not sound well, but everyone should be happy, everyone has a heart which must not be broken... Then, there will also be a dancing DJ for the Sur-Suri Dance of the snakes, for the Halli Dance of the dogs, (originated from Hallaq Kuttaq, their great-grandfather), also some monkeys will be allowed to swing their hips, all for your entertainment, Some hyenas may also do yip-yip-yip, and cry and laugh, laugh and cry, but you mustn't be afraid then, for these hyenas are also pals... for you see for this day everyone is our friend, the whole universe is our friend, love flows like a waterfall, for we are in love... © Manan sheel.
0
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 6:53 PM UTC
amazing things, just for you...
I will do these amazing things, just for you... I will go to the nearby garden of my neighbour, and steal the juiciest fruits, the tastes of which contain the wondrous tales of the trees, you will be so excited to listen to the tale of the mother parrot, who tasted every Guava, and took the bite only from the sweetest part to share with her children. This neighbour might come after me carrying his stick, but any risk can be taken, for our fruity moments of togetherness, when we will sit cuddled, and munch on fruits making surpy-surpy sounds... I will make an orchestra consisting of singing bulbuls, koyals, pigeons and sparrows, and will not say no to any bird or animal who wants to join in. For example, crickets and monkeys, can join in, and even happy wolves with their hoo-hoos. We should not say no to anyone, because although our orchestra may not sound well, but everyone should be happy, everyone has a heart which must not be broken... Then, there will also be a dancing DJ for the Sur-Suri Dance of the snakes, for the Halli Dance of the dogs, (originated from Hallaq Kuttaq, their great-grandfather), also some monkeys will be allowed to swing their hips, all for your entertainment, Some hyenas may also do yip-yip-yip, and cry and laugh, laugh and cry, but you mustn't be afraid then, for these hyenas are also pals... for you see for this day everyone is our friend, the whole universe is our friend, love flows like a waterfall, for we are in love... © Manan sheel.
Continue reading...
43
Inside the darkest garden in this castle of roots and knots                   with ancient shadows                       that come out to dance                          in consistent moonlit thoughts where my body starts                      to swirl and sway                      my spirit stirring free inside the bones of                 underground caverns where I have found the once –buried remnants            of me Here.       Antiquated magic             is rediscovered               next to dark-aged weapons of layered rust in the ghosts of the tears of the collapsing fears            that quaked the bridges of trust where the unlikely traces of self-love never did really die and despair in its quiet torrents prepares to release and fly          Here.           I embrace the night                in its fullness, drink it up           like temple wine accepting all the dark within me letting its light fill me in vibrations,               divine In most scintillating strength, my inner swords enhanced in sharpness,                 in potent length before my armies                        advance Here,               in wild mossy corners the blackest of berries grow round and perfect, on the edge                      of bursting revealed only to those who know that clandestine language of echoes of loneliness that wander breathlessly                            and roam clutching their essence                            to hold it safe over the soil and loam Now minerals sparkle in the                        rich, dark earth atoms of crystal and stone Here. In this darkest oasis of seeming nothingness glows a       single tree bearing the juiciest         of fruits     now dripping   just for me and as my hunger pours up from the roots propelling me in sacred trance I find myself gazing up in wonder letting down           my warrior stance I slowly take off my armor freeing up the fullness of ******* of thighs, of hips to allow that emotional          fruit liquid to nourish me from core to fingertips and to catch that ripeness      about to spill goddess voices calling "Yes, woman. Now" I, with reverence      with honor take on that sacred vow tip back my head let the quartz-snapped air into my lungs let that liquid slake my ache and, in moaning silence grace my      tongue
0
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC
Benediction of the Dark
Inside the darkest garden in this castle of roots and knots                   with ancient shadows                       that come out to dance                          in consistent moonlit thoughts where my body starts                      to swirl and sway                      my spirit stirring free inside the bones of                 underground caverns where I have found the once –buried remnants            of me Here.       Antiquated magic             is rediscovered               next to dark-aged weapons of layered rust in the ghosts of the tears of the collapsing fears            that quaked the bridges of trust where the unlikely traces of self-love never did really die and despair in its quiet torrents prepares to release and fly          Here.           I embrace the night                in its fullness, drink it up           like temple wine accepting all the dark within me letting its light fill me in vibrations,               divine In most scintillating strength, my inner swords enhanced in sharpness,                 in potent length before my armies                        advance Here,               in wild mossy corners the blackest of berries grow round and perfect, on the edge                      of bursting revealed only to those who know that clandestine language of echoes of loneliness that wander breathlessly                            and roam clutching their essence                            to hold it safe over the soil and loam Now minerals sparkle in the                        rich, dark earth atoms of crystal and stone Here. In this darkest oasis of seeming nothingness glows a       single tree bearing the juiciest         of fruits     now dripping   just for me and as my hunger pours up from the roots propelling me in sacred trance I find myself gazing up in wonder letting down           my warrior stance I slowly take off my armor freeing up the fullness of ******* of thighs, of hips to allow that emotional          fruit liquid to nourish me from core to fingertips and to catch that ripeness      about to spill goddess voices calling "Yes, woman. Now" I, with reverence      with honor take on that sacred vow tip back my head let the quartz-snapped air into my lungs let that liquid slake my ache and, in moaning silence grace my      tongue
Continue reading...
101
you say it's not about the *** but the declaration does nothing to ***** the boiling terror to shoo away that yawning hole digging deeper and deeper into the root system of my ribs tilling the lush soil that is my traitorous stomach and ever shrinking lungs it uproots me grinds the stump where I once stood a towering oak or was I only ever a sapling that was snapped in half severed the exact moment that the floodgates opened and the raging storms remnants poured forth unshackled by the walls I carefully constructed around my trembling heart how I screamed when they fell the resounding crash of my fingers digging into your back pulling you closer and closer I can't stop wanting you closer to inhabit that feeling the safety of a harbor in a storm you somehow can protect me from the radioactive wasteland that I am still traversing dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy and alpha particles heavy with the black hole that swears it will consume all of me its final sacrifice demanded my life how can I trust this? when the reality of the matter is you are no lead apron absorbing the radiation for me some kevlar vest that can ever protect me from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward not to mention grenades thrown my way by wayward neural firings which find me craving my blood a box of razors is a box of friends and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane. you could be snatched from me you are a small worm on the biggest hook to make the juiciest most succulent amuse bouche for a big world of sharks how ******* stupid am I to be a fisherwoman who has fallen in love with her bait?
0
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Untitled
you say it's not about the *** but the declaration does nothing to ***** the boiling terror to shoo away that yawning hole digging deeper and deeper into the root system of my ribs tilling the lush soil that is my traitorous stomach and ever shrinking lungs it uproots me grinds the stump where I once stood a towering oak or was I only ever a sapling that was snapped in half severed the exact moment that the floodgates opened and the raging storms remnants poured forth unshackled by the walls I carefully constructed around my trembling heart how I screamed when they fell the resounding crash of my fingers digging into your back pulling you closer and closer I can't stop wanting you closer to inhabit that feeling the safety of a harbor in a storm you somehow can protect me from the radioactive wasteland that I am still traversing dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy and alpha particles heavy with the black hole that swears it will consume all of me its final sacrifice demanded my life how can I trust this? when the reality of the matter is you are no lead apron absorbing the radiation for me some kevlar vest that can ever protect me from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward not to mention grenades thrown my way by wayward neural firings which find me craving my blood a box of razors is a box of friends and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane. you could be snatched from me you are a small worm on the biggest hook to make the juiciest most succulent amuse bouche for a big world of sharks how ******* stupid am I to be a fisherwoman who has fallen in love with her bait?
Continue reading...
54
Sister wants the jewels Brother eyes the deed to the house Aunt Jan covets Grandma’s wedding ring, She has for years. Uncle Ted asks about the furnishings. Casually. Like carrion beetles we swarm seeking the juiciest bits for ourselves. Masking avarice with feigned grief
0
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 12:17 AM UTC
Hospice
I find very little encouragement to live my life these days, it used to be different when I was ten. I remember walking down this street humming and skipping in full joy, Like I had the juiciest fruit in all of the world and that fruit held secrets, carrying more than just sweetness, It was big, golden and shiny I think that fruit was my heart, It was always so full. Almost overflowing with sickening sweetness, exasperating energy and a sticky smile that was always there. I would dance around, walk fast then slow I would roll around, talk so loud then low. It sickens me now. Why was I like that ages ago? What made me so excited about life? To wake up every day and just....live? It sickens me even more That I can't have that again. It also confuses me because what is human life if not a change after change after change?
0
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 11:59 AM UTC
Life and so..
Might I partake? I do say I shall help myself to these delicious treats. That is, the misfortune of others. Alas, I cannot hold back in general for they are addicting. I prey on the weak for they are the juiciest. My glands have been salivating for far too long and I feel that what little self-control I have left shall be consumed by this overwhelming desire of feasting off others' unhappiness. True, it is callous of myself to divulge in such travesties that do not require my presence, but I ask myself: why not? It seems only fitting to devour that which brings joy. Clasping my hands followed by a devious smile, I shall hunt for these misfortunes, hoping to wither someone down until they're nothing more than an empty shell.
0
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Gluttony
i saw dark gods walking the earth tall strong broken women and men with hearts connected and on fire i saw children playing in peace and growing in love i smelled health and abundance in the winds of change what should we do when doing is outdated? we shall lie upon a mountain and call out to the heavens and drink nectar from only the juiciest of fruits and realize our Truth and sameness we made music so we could remember our true selves we wrote poems and moved our bodies to rhythms no one ever knew i saw our lands overflowing with the milk we extracted and pasteurized and bottled and delivered but never drank being intolerant of the lacking flavor in dry white toast we are the very lands we couldn’t bury our ancestors in we couldn’t let anyone take the seeds they’d sewn the ancient ones the ones who planted the seeds for us seeds that overpopulated an unsuspecting nation on the brink of collapse
0
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 7:00 PM UTC
dark gods walk the earth
You have cut me up and placed me beside other shinier, redder apples. you've given disapproving glares and shaken your head, arms akimbo. You're trying to keep me in a box, away from the "dangerous" world outside but then you'd shake your fists at my browning flesh and putrid body. I'm just an apple. Why can't you see me for what i am? I'm not the biggest nor the juiciest. I have yellow spots on my skin and bruises on my flesh. Why don't you love me? Why can't you stop comparing and judging and complaining? You are my apple tree. you made me. Why can't you see I'm trying to be the best apple that i can be? It's not enough. it's never enough. I'm. Not enough. and i never will be.
0
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
I am an apple.
As with any person that comes to the city others will say of him that he came to be where the action is, looking for his share of the spoils but the truth is, he came to put on his suit and toil more than most newcomers here he knew already what skyscrapers were: a daywatch to guard the sun from you and leave you long shadows to walk through— even on his shaded way to the ad firms he slides on his sunglasses, he squirms through the crowds relishing a moment of thick silence in a packed elevator, as if sent on a mission to happy anonymity— but to die at this point would be a cliché he thinks, and goes to the shiner to shine his shoes black black, color of the pavement, the suit, the tie and the hat black, the color of the plush bruise in an apricot’s skin, the fruit he adores taking his time to pick out the finest, juiciest, softest, the freshest but this man! you would never know it seeing him walk in the street seeing his sunglasses over his eyes— it’s only apricots that separate his from yours or mine barely two inches of sugary meat and some skin to get stuck in the teeth eventually spat onto the sidewalk— rubbed by passing shoe soles into a grayish spot
0
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
City Dweller
Sweet Tangy Tantalizing Orange Juicy Delicious Dripping goodness Mango Teardrop Juicy juiciest Yellow Green Pear Bittersweet Acid Tongue biting Kiwi Color of rich blood Fruity Sour Ripe Cherry Picasso's sky inside a bowl Rich Sunset Sugar Flowering ornamentals Plums, Peaches Almonds, Apricots The sun shining at the edge of your tongue Tasty Bright Smooth Soft Banana Sunrise Sunset Island Ballet Citrus Lemony Lemon Colorful paint on an artist canvas Bitter Pungent Sweetness Translucent Oval Berry Grapes Gold at the end of a rainbow Amber Sticky Sweet Organic Healing Honey The fruits of your heart The flavors of your soul The unfolding of a liquid sky. . . Shall we indulge?
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
[Indulge]
To her he was love personified, sweet lover but if you think there ends his troubles of amour you need to read this narrative to the end. He would make her bathe in cranberry juice and feed her the juiciest of peaches and plums from morning till night, if strawberries and luscious mangoes become too much for her. She made him read poetry aloud till their hearts break in sweet pain,Sappho's poems made his eyes moist, but she cries aloud, often inconsolable. At one point fed up being his lap dog she attacked him tooth and nail, still her love intact, showering kisses all over his naked chest down. He laughed taking credit to be the cause of her true enlightenment,letting her to be herself. Night was spreading her venom in their veins and it started to show it's effects as animal instincts the tigress in her woke up, stretching to full length, stared at his flesh, hairy broad chest, athletic legs, and groin then after the play thoroughly exhausted and drained she rolled to the other end of the bed, the monster named angst keeping awake in the darkest corner taking in all  with fluorescent eyes, sprung up on him bit, scratched, mauled and wounded, as much as it wanted, he was dazed, didn't scream, fought bitter tears like always.
0
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC
From the dark corner, the panther
During mass on Sunday mornings we would recite the Act of Contrition, a prayer to request forgiveness of sins. In humble voices, we asked for absolution from God and from each other, before the priest blessed the eucharist. Most of our sins were encouraged in a world on fire, but we owned up to them every week. Hatred of our brothers and sisters, the best drugs and the juiciest hookers, these were our only escapes from the bosses, the bills, the tax collectors. Sin was how we stopped the perpetual slide into total madness, and the Act of Contrition, that was how we kept our sins from eating us alive.
0
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 6:50 PM UTC
Act of Contrition
Your small, fleshy, red fruit, hidden neath your flesh, and the protuberance of your smooth pit, entice me into submission.. And your flavor is the sweetest, juiciest, tastiest fruit ever..
0
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
Cherish The Taste
It’s been a year And I still don’t know how to feel. Sometimes I feel elated. Out of all the girls, All the plums, I was the ripest, the juiciest. I spread across his tongue As a smile spread across his lips. Sometimes I feel empty. Like he had Taken away a part of me. A certain innocence So rare, so valuable, so hidden Not even the best criminals Could steal it back. Sometimes I feel fragile. My bones replaced by porcelain. They forgot to wrap me In bubblewrap. They forgot the Handle with care sign. I shattered at his feet. I crunched under his boots. Sometimes I feel depressed. Any light I had Has darkened. Any fire has Been snuffed out. I am nothing more than smoke. Sometimes I feel tired. Like it takes too much energy to live. I’m not strong enough To live. To push through. My organs are too heavy. I am too heavy. Sometimes I feel happy. When I forget about that night. When I forget about the bedroom floor. The popcorn bowl. The army of whispers Assaulting my ears. When I’m alone with a book Full of poems. When I shed this skin, The one with burn marks and Moth holes, I’m happy.
0
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
Forgetting How to Feel
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Which fruit is the juiciest of all. Round and oval, With a green crown and a red mantle, A rainbow of colours! Red, orange, yellow,green  and purple, Big and small, Tomatoes are juiciest of all. The redder, the better, More healthier. Full of tiny seeds, What, a delicious curry needs. Used as veggies, A fruit it is. Tomatoes a day, Keeps the risk of heart disease away. Full of vitamins C and K,potassium and folate, Helps against cancer like prostrate. Pick them fresh at a go, Have a feast on this tomato, Barbeque chicken and chips with salad and sauce of tomatoes, Dissipates all your woes.
0
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 4:03 AM UTC
Juicest Of All
Tell us tell us Confide in us your tale Us, we hungry ranvenous reporters Who scavenge your lines for Every private inch of you yet Let us fester and spread in your gossip Entrust to us your secrets So we can discard them freely unto the world The detail, the detail every last bit of it Tell us tell us, feed our bottomless mouths Lies and truth they are all the same Feed us feed us! Your rumors, we are to blame And once we have it all When we are filled, bloated With your shame and your disgrace We shuffle on for another victim To pick at and argue over who gets the juiciest bits. So trust in us, we harbingers of deceit. Brings us your secrets And we will feast
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
The Feast
. It’s better than chocolate cake drenched in whipped cream A day off to sleep in almost until noon A warm summer day near a slow moving stream The stars in the sky and a smiling moon The juiciest steak prepared medium rare Seeing your team win the championship Watching a kite as it floats in the air Making a milkshake and taking a sip A trip to the beach with a cooler of beer Skiing the slopes on a fresh coat of snow Expecting rain but then finding it clear It’s so much better I want you know In case you wonder what all of this means What you now see in the phrases above Nothing, not even my wildest dreams Could ever be better than feeling her love
0
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Better than
____Going back and forth >> The dark pool jaw shark Darth____(War)teared Her drink feared The moon split Two people Crook/Brook-Streams Spilled water-soul words the Grecian river Thorn Rose birds Will I return? Devil dug Deep- thought Millionaire swamps 2B streamed Suddenly Forestal sweetness FLipping homes Hopscotch jump Flipper Gumps Mister brook the   measles Water spots How her foot met Sunny-side Eggbeaters Morning 2 B Sure? Turning-star Cornered-shore A sure pleaser Cheater's foot The river of no return (Monroe) She is so perpetual returning in his fantasy everything Misery loves cooks Baked tan brooks company Poetical downright mystical rivers Joan of Ark All bricks to blow her home down dark He's the Adonis Superlative most bodeful The bridge over ***** war of her laundry In Cahoots, Tired torrential rain Tranquil water Streaming air Glorious shape Her brook But he is never by her shore Not even once to stare or look Water Wands of faires So many ***** men Drinking the Holiest water Mrs, clean Cult life Stepford Wifes Her cheeks like petals Estee Lauder eyes of Blue velvet Lady Brook the banks of the channel; No contamination water Channeling Like finest truffles By the water riffle So Shallow Abdominal water Hurricane shakey Speaking words of wisdom wishing well Streams overloved Still, Diana Wales running reliving Lucky charms they're married Orange segments Water the juiciest Be calm Nick the Knickpoints Mister and Mrs. beds The high tide of turbulence Poems are all a stream Our oasis Deer Creek came to Love her more than he could ever seek
0
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
Mister Brook Streams Back
____Going back and forth >> The dark pool jaw shark Darth____(War)teared Her drink feared The moon split Two people Crook/Brook-Streams Spilled water-soul words the Grecian river Thorn Rose birds Will I return? Devil dug Deep- thought Millionaire swamps 2B streamed Suddenly Forestal sweetness FLipping homes Hopscotch jump Flipper Gumps Mister brook the   measles Water spots How her foot met Sunny-side Eggbeaters Morning 2 B Sure? Turning-star Cornered-shore A sure pleaser Cheater's foot The river of no return (Monroe) She is so perpetual returning in his fantasy everything Misery loves cooks Baked tan brooks company Poetical downright mystical rivers Joan of Ark All bricks to blow her home down dark He's the Adonis Superlative most bodeful The bridge over ***** war of her laundry In Cahoots, Tired torrential rain Tranquil water Streaming air Glorious shape Her brook But he is never by her shore Not even once to stare or look Water Wands of faires So many ***** men Drinking the Holiest water Mrs, clean Cult life Stepford Wifes Her cheeks like petals Estee Lauder eyes of Blue velvet Lady Brook the banks of the channel; No contamination water Channeling Like finest truffles By the water riffle So Shallow Abdominal water Hurricane shakey Speaking words of wisdom wishing well Streams overloved Still, Diana Wales running reliving Lucky charms they're married Orange segments Water the juiciest Be calm Nick the Knickpoints Mister and Mrs. beds The high tide of turbulence Poems are all a stream Our oasis Deer Creek came to Love her more than he could ever seek
Continue reading...
116
Bless those Executives thrive you en masse Whose Assets strive your Esteem promote Whom with Percentage page their Profits cast And leave a Question on your Inner Note Yet by Reason does Economy dwell Such Talent alone cannot propagate But - Family's Cause a Noble Heart sell Is all too deeming to incastigate So all was naught for your Robin's Cage win With one but sole worth mystifying Dame Oh well! Courage drink their Juiciest Sin And Scanted Virtues are one and the same. That is a Fact. Your Stark Image survive Flow with the Flow; And clip your obvious Hide.
0
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY TWO - TOM DALEY
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶-𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯. 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯? 𝘒𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯. Sangría? No, sangre de Magallanes. 𝘕𝘪ñ𝘰𝘴, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘻 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴. And believe it or not; Bulerías, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. 𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘢, 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘰. Actually, how do you like your coffee? 𝘛𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘧é? 𝘚𝘪 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowㅡreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejé? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraíso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
0
Jul 22, 2024
Jul 22, 2024 at 4:20 AM UTC
Telenovela, Chisme, Galeón
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶-𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯. 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯? 𝘒𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯. Sangría? No, sangre de Magallanes. 𝘕𝘪ñ𝘰𝘴, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘻 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴. And believe it or not; Bulerías, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. 𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘢, 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘰. Actually, how do you like your coffee? 𝘛𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘧é? 𝘚𝘪 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowㅡreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejé? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraíso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
Continue reading...
36
If angels were real as you are a vision from above Your sweet melodic voice sounding like music to my ears Your snow white teeth complementing your golden brown eyes Your lips at it's juiciest with red lipstick on Your face reflecting your well crafted body Those magical kisses and lustful stares Heart pounding moments and passionate desires Your image imprinted in my mind reminding me of the God send vision you are As I pray to be released from the prison of my own thoughts with you as the prison guard If this is just a dream Please allow me to effortlessly scream In your spell is where I am caught at
0
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 6:38 AM UTC
Mysterious Girl
To deny ones tendencies is foolish, they will escape sooner or later. the build up is dangerous. so, **** pluck, finger, and **** Just remember, hunger will only suffice when you learn the truth of the world. The bloodiest, wettest, juiciest part of the **** is the heart.
0
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
To Finger the Soul