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"junket" poems
i come to you half mad with desire like slithers tongue i wish to have painfully stitched to your silky **** an act of desires supplication my *** turned to poison deprivations effulgent obsidian flower salivating your every smile fleshy bells ringing warping tintinnabulations i am a starved incubus drooling at your knees behind me a frothy junket of misdeeds for loves sake your feet the scent of lavender and salt their shape evoking numberless poems and begging adorations your belly a tender cauldron undulating tummy ***** dancer sacred ********** temple of worship the site of your rounded bottom naked red mouth calling my sacred liturgy your ***** velvet tulips for a tremulous kiss I seed you a thousand times a raging bludgeon storming wounded gates Palisades drenched and florid fruit and milk **** until jaws lock and spire drops turning me to midnight cadaver ***** black hollows a dark eyelid, blink-less dead **** face down a slumped snake then soft dew and cool ales clear thickened muds saturation lighten heat and peel the warm palate with agile caress tender haunches wide and spiced milk and butter thighs her hair in mine rushing river life again i animate an embryo id dressed in fire all vices and virtues blood and sky
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 1:23 PM UTC
*** DEATH AND RESURRECTION
Are we junk?  Waste, Shard and smear, Empty symbol made by “Doled out Poet’s papers, Hoarded like sweets?” Our awkward secrets stumble cislunar.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
Junket-
i sacchariferous exhale's, I shalt insufflate into her bronchi An Ode of enchantment, a beacon of escarpment, Filipino oblige; We shalt junket all the way to France, the way politician's do Concord, oh amour', at the end of the day Cogitation's, sky blue. ii The artist's shalt adumbrate ourn outter appearance's, as ghost's They shalt brush us onto an primeval canvas, Enlargement **** Phosphorescent simper she giveth, as I grace her foreign perfume Thither the acropolis, to mine land of Greece, Corinth, in all tune. iii The people their do greeteth her, they layeth out the red carpet White wall's of these spítia, nacre full of plenty, open market's; The children here art collaborated in epoch, decorative style's, As mine queen shalt seeith, they weareth golden leaves, wild...... ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane dedication/ pag-ibig magpakailanman.....
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
Στη γη της Κορίνθου ( In the land of Corinth) greek tongue
Just a word, Lord… is what I desire today. Often I devote quality time with Thee, hoping to learn more of your Holy ways. Just a word, Lord… keeps me moving forward with You; embrace me with Your Presence, in everything that I say and do. [CHORUS] Just a word, Lord… provides me with Everlasting Life. Being focused on You, reduces the noise of earthly strife. Just a word, Lord… completely captures my heart. My longing for You flows as water, that sates the thirsty hart. [CHORUS] Just a word, Lord… brings me out of the wilderness. Hear and answer my cries to be clothed with Your Righteousness. Just a word, Lord… lifts and inspires my weary spirit. Cover me with grace continually, in anticipation of Your heavenly junket. [CHORUS] _________________________________________ [CHORUS] Open the eyes of my understanding; remove the spiritual blinders on me! Always keep in my remembrance… Your sacrifice on that accursed tree. Author Notes: Loosely based on: Ezekiel 7:1-8, 1 Kings 6:11-13, Ezekiel 12:1-2, 26-28, John 6:47, Galatians 6:8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 6:50 AM UTC
Poem/Song: Just a Word, Lord
First come up with a catchy title One that will draw the crowds Throw in a bit of Mojo A little pizzazz, a lot of Wow Give it a twinge of what people want A slight tweak of what people need That can stand on it's on, slap them square in the face How about you call it FREE MONEY! Now that you have the hardest of parts Tightly locked in place It's time to spin the ultimate rhyme One that will blow them all away Throw in a little love for all the ladies One or two car chases for Dad So as not to leave anyone out Dinosaur's and bunny rabbits for the kids Now take it and mix it together Slightly shaken but never stirred Till you have them eating out of your hands Devouring your every word This will keep them coming back for more They will always be waiting in line For your next junket through The world of mysterious rhyme I hope that this has been helpful And in a way has enlightened you Now go out there Mr.and Miz Poet There's a line outside waiting for you
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
The Art Of Writing A Poem Everyone Will Read (AKA) FREE MONEY!
Sitting 'neath an apple tree In Edmond, Oklahoma Thinking of the days gone by And drinking my Corona Body beat all black and blue I've had less ups than I've downs I guess that's just all that I get As an old time rodeo clown Should I say another season? Is it worth what I will get? Money, pain and broken bones Those not broken yet I've been gored by bulls in Texas Stomped real hard in Abilene But, I got my worst **** beating By my ex, named Bobbie Jean With a bull you see it coming You just get out of the way But Bobbie Jean sideswiped me And I'll not forget that day Put on some clown makeup Some baggy pants, the game is on But, I came home from one junket And Bobbie Jean had up and gone I wasn't set to find this Fell in a bottle for a week It wasn't bad she left me It's that she took my hound dog, Zeke That hurt more than any beating I may have taken in the ring I can take the biggest brahma And the bruises it may bring But, Bobbie Jean done hurt me Blind sided me you'd say I know I'll not forgive her For taking my dog Zeke away Now, I sit and ponder One more empty by my side Am I fit enough to stay here? Can I stay for one last ride? I know it's a sad story Of a clown whose heart got broke But beneath the colored face paint I'm just an aging, sore cowpoke So I sit beneath this fruit tree In Edmond, Oklahoma Pondering my future As I drink one more Corona.
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
Rodeo Clown
Tom Thumb got caught peeping Now his life is on the run Little Bo Peep lost her sheep On a gambling junket she was on Little Miss Muffet is having to tuff it Out these days in jail Selling ecstasy to undercover police And now can't pay her bail Little Jack Horner took him a corner Of the Mafia drug trade Once you are hooked on the **** that he cooks There's no way of escape You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet That even comes this close Since  Mother Goose started hitting the juice And ended up down on skid row Humpty Dumpty's more than broke But not from any fall He couldn't pay his ****** And his legs were first to go Baa Baa Black Sheep   Where forced to sell their wool To pay for all the damages While they were in school Jack pushed Jill down the hill When he caught her cheating with Little Boy Blue Now he's paying her doctor bills Which has left Jack blue too You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet That even comes this close Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice And ended up down on skid row
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
Mother Goose Down On Skid Row
Do I risk it for the junket? Is there a biscuit, can I dunk it Pour the Rosy Lee That means a cup of tea That’s funny, I must have drunk it.
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
Risk It
When my Calling is Calling And I fail to answer The Phonemes… I’m depressed. And of course, I must be. Driven North of my South By harpies Draped in flags. My constant Dystopia More Terrarium Than a home for My bees. And more Hive Than any Home For A Dream. A plush junket Of close calls- Where rice patties Wane. Because Prophets Fail like crops. And The News Is just a new Nothing In Imaginary Palms… Phantom mad. II But when my Calling is Calling- And Negotiations have collapsed.- As foretold by Introspection And served on a platter Of Absolute Narcissism Chained to an Unspoken Woe In my Achilles Heel- My Falderal, fumbling For Unfaltering.s. I almost digress. III I clamor to the forefront Of Myself; maladjusted To Sun spokes. Privately Waning. A Tempered Steel In a molten Kaleidoscope- Hoping Love hath a Plan That a Hell Dismissed. Or a Poem Made sense Of It... Sisyphus.
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Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 5:39 PM UTC
MY CALLING IS CALLING