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"kiki" poems
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
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Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:44 AM UTC
Love of Wordplay for Kiki Dresden
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
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67
Read random books And take some pics Eat bacon, soup and.. oh a Sandwich Add it to your story And add stickers, lips Drive a BMW and sing a silly song Of? Not even the words of Your "speachless" mind Don't forget to talk out loud Start a live While going out, mad Add "thinker" to your bio pretend You're different than the others, oh not my dear lad! Eww Go to the gym Take pics of your body,  Hola! Isn't that a dream? Make some more friends Then make them cry For your fake pains Dance with the "kiki" song Post it somewhere (mostly to girls) Make sure You are walking on *** son Send follow requests to some **** barbie girls Do not accept guests, and make fun of  fat nerds That's your life Bro! Did I ever protest?
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
Insta Lad
he had a third beer before the hot platters came     he would have had another, had she not stared, like she going to ask every question he did not want to answer… how did it feel to slap his first wife?     how did it feel to pull the trigger   and mow men down like so many weeds? those were the questions in her eyes   and had he ever told anyone, what happened that night   when they came upon a village, where the young ones slept with the dead, their ancestors only a few feet away, watching, mute, beyond the paddies where they planted the rice, the narrow trails where they hunkered and spoke the ancient tongue, not adulterated by the romance of the French or the clumsy amalgam of shredded sounds from the new soldiers   the giants who ignored them in the steaming light of day but came one night, bringing strange smells, oiled steel muzzles pointed at their faces, shoved into their empty ears grunting and groaning in an even more grotesque tongue   leaving tears and trembling in their wake, the torn flesh, the wounded wombs, the silken vessels   meant to be there for the milky planting of tomorrow’s seeds   not the greedy groping of the interloper’s devilish deeds   was she asking about that night, the sounds he recalled like puppies under heavy foot, or worse, like the madding moaning of his own sister when someone ripped her open   not in the distant killing fields but in the back seat of her car   not two miles from where they sat   where he ordered more beer, and she asked those questions with her silence, with her eyes, the questions he would never answer   not after all the beer, in all the free world, and he was pitifully glad they served no sushi, in Kiki’s, though the sharpened knives were there ready for his confessional and the raw slaughter of truth
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
sushi at Kiki’s
he had a third beer before the hot platters came     he would have had another, had she not stared, like she going to ask every question he did not want to answer… how did it feel to slap his first wife?     how did it feel to pull the trigger   and mow men down like so many weeds? those were the questions in her eyes   and had he ever told anyone, what happened that night   when they came upon a village, where the young ones slept with the dead, their ancestors only a few feet away, watching, mute, beyond the paddies where they planted the rice, the narrow trails where they hunkered and spoke the ancient tongue, not adulterated by the romance of the French or the clumsy amalgam of shredded sounds from the new soldiers   the giants who ignored them in the steaming light of day but came one night, bringing strange smells, oiled steel muzzles pointed at their faces, shoved into their empty ears grunting and groaning in an even more grotesque tongue   leaving tears and trembling in their wake, the torn flesh, the wounded wombs, the silken vessels   meant to be there for the milky planting of tomorrow’s seeds   not the greedy groping of the interloper’s devilish deeds   was she asking about that night, the sounds he recalled like puppies under heavy foot, or worse, like the madding moaning of his own sister when someone ripped her open   not in the distant killing fields but in the back seat of her car   not two miles from where they sat   where he ordered more beer, and she asked those questions with her silence, with her eyes, the questions he would never answer   not after all the beer, in all the free world, and he was pitifully glad they served no sushi, in Kiki’s, though the sharpened knives were there ready for his confessional and the raw slaughter of truth
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A little nod to Kiki Petrosino The heart ceases to beat. Because Some ghosts are my exes neither angry nor kind their faces spiral like old windmills that clings to dry autumn leaves looking for a place to land: Not all ghosts are my exes I remember them as stingy, and womanizing Some were wolves in sheep clothing Not smart but conniving species, They capture your attention, like a slow moving sunrise, then lure you Like a vampire before dawn to have his feed: But that isn’t all, some of my ghosts who Walks amongst the mortal grinning Asking to be friends, to forgive, to reflect, Not a clever move, my ghostly friends, just deceiving: Tactics As a wise man once told me, No one can hurt me without my permission… So some of the blame, of misfortune lies on me
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Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
Some Ghosts Are My Exes
“Quite a piece this doesn’t come along every day”He was tapped into her forever mores or heretofore reservoirs of passion.The creme de la creme her pursed mouth prim. She couldn’t wait to lick him higher watering his rim. But after he breaststroked with her he has taken a bite fresh ****** fruit she broke. He spends all his time extolling her virtues, what’s left the first virtue ****** painting feast. For his eyes *** all day. Planting her nest.Lay Lady lay. He made this avocado melting pot-her fondue smelling hot what’s next to pursue such charm. His ears pierced like a fire alarm. blazing the fireplace. Her blush deepened like she was diced. To the ******** Asking for so much more.You were wearing your erotically to die for **** me shoes.He was the Hollywood ******* I was going to *** crave you knock you down. Like the colonel of **** mustard spicy so **** hot.His hair deep brown. He lengthened got bigger what a shot. How the carpet just spread me to bounce my buttocks.She tried so hard to lay everything out from his bowl his manly sword like a dual. He steamed out like Maddocks  Taurus bedroom eyes of the bull. So much to roll her feet heated so penetrated him to the floor.The rain was heavy and thick dripping with your creamy avocado puddle
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:08 AM UTC
KiKi Avocado
Everyday absent You occupy my mind Everyday present The freedom divine Grateful for the days Impassioned by the signs Indebted to your grace Elegant by design Forever captivated Forever grateful to call you mine
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Jul 5, 2022
Jul 5, 2022 at 8:02 PM UTC
Kiki
Last night I dreamed I dreamed of Kiki playing in the driveway. I dreamed a beach ball and a jump rope. I dreamed a smile and love. I dreamed a slow moving car Guns pointed out tinted windows I dreamed shooting, POP POP POP I dreamed tires squealing And blood. So much blood. I dreamed the life leaving Kiki's body next to the beach ball and the jump rope. I dreamed of three boys begging for mercy When I dreamed none, I dreamed of Kiki's smile once again.
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Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 5:17 PM UTC
I Dreamed
In deafening silence the clangers spilled their blue string soup! While inTrumpton the boys in the fire station rang their fire bells. The miller was windy in Camberwick Green. And Bill and Ben. Well they lived in a grass fuelled happy hippy scene. With a sweet lady called **** Hector lived in his house of fun. Where he enjoyed his little ***** Zsa Zsa her name, Gabor perhaps. Bonjour, one funny frog, amphibian named Kiki. Hector well he was a dog! In the garden of the herbs. Lived a jolly friendly chap. A lion called Parsley. What a crazy name was that. The owl,well he was a sage. A seer of things to come. Bourgeoisie in the garden. Sir Basil and Lady Rosemary. A pair of toffs with taste! And they wonder why today. We poets have a vivid imagination. Wasn't due to taking drugs. Was the influence of T.V. on our fair English nation! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
Early Days Education!
I'd like to tell a true story to you, dear readers. It's not exactly a nice story, but it's one I've only told to a few, so I think the time has come to make it public, especially since I know that the only person involved that would read it is me. This is a story that has changed my life, for good or ill, some experience that curdled my perception of how the world I live in works. One night, years ago, I wound up at a house party in beautiful St. Augustine, and I was sober when I got there, very late, as I had promised to be the dd. But, we walked from the dorms back to Riberia Street, so I had no responsibilities once we got there. So, while drinking and partaking of other choice substances, I met the now famous Emily, she who I first started really writing for, she who set me free from some pointless idea of what was necessary. Dear God she had perfect ******* and could kiss like French writers wished their wives or lovers could kiss. I fell in love with her that night....and also was wounded at the same time. Emily had three friends, a Latina from Miami called Natasha ironically, a White girl from up North named Lauren Ruotollo, and another chick from up that way who introduced herself as Kiki. I was in the middle of a conversation with Emily, when I had to *** So, naturally I walked off the porch and did my business on the side of that house, and while standing there I looked to my left and saw a random dude shoving his thing into a girl's mouth propped against a tree. I thought nothing of it in that moment, and went back to talking to that perfect Emily. What felt like hours or honestly was only minutes later, on the back porch with my tongue in Emily's mouth and my hand up her shirt, Natasha and Lauren found us; hunting for Kiki. I found her out back, not ten yards from where Emily and I were standing. She was the girl taking it hard from random ******* who left her with not even a thank you. Her skirt and ******* were racked up over her stomach, and when I picked her up, she coughed up *** all over my shirt. I carried her to Natasha's car and put her inside, yelling to God that He owed me one. Emily, Natasha, Lauren and Kiki then rolled off into the wee morning hours, and a little piece of my soul died. I went back inside that house and couldn't find that empty piece of **** So I snorted an entire 8 ball and took off my *** covered shirt in the middle of Riberia and burned that ****** then and there. So when you ask me why I have some problems that didn't come from the Army, I'll tell you this story.
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
A Story
I'd like to tell a true story to you, dear readers. It's not exactly a nice story, but it's one I've only told to a few, so I think the time has come to make it public, especially since I know that the only person involved that would read it is me. This is a story that has changed my life, for good or ill, some experience that curdled my perception of how the world I live in works. One night, years ago, I wound up at a house party in beautiful St. Augustine, and I was sober when I got there, very late, as I had promised to be the dd. But, we walked from the dorms back to Riberia Street, so I had no responsibilities once we got there. So, while drinking and partaking of other choice substances, I met the now famous Emily, she who I first started really writing for, she who set me free from some pointless idea of what was necessary. Dear God she had perfect ******* and could kiss like French writers wished their wives or lovers could kiss. I fell in love with her that night....and also was wounded at the same time. Emily had three friends, a Latina from Miami called Natasha ironically, a White girl from up North named Lauren Ruotollo, and another chick from up that way who introduced herself as Kiki. I was in the middle of a conversation with Emily, when I had to *** So, naturally I walked off the porch and did my business on the side of that house, and while standing there I looked to my left and saw a random dude shoving his thing into a girl's mouth propped against a tree. I thought nothing of it in that moment, and went back to talking to that perfect Emily. What felt like hours or honestly was only minutes later, on the back porch with my tongue in Emily's mouth and my hand up her shirt, Natasha and Lauren found us; hunting for Kiki. I found her out back, not ten yards from where Emily and I were standing. She was the girl taking it hard from random ******* who left her with not even a thank you. Her skirt and ******* were racked up over her stomach, and when I picked her up, she coughed up *** all over my shirt. I carried her to Natasha's car and put her inside, yelling to God that He owed me one. Emily, Natasha, Lauren and Kiki then rolled off into the wee morning hours, and a little piece of my soul died. I went back inside that house and couldn't find that empty piece of **** So I snorted an entire 8 ball and took off my *** covered shirt in the middle of Riberia and burned that ****** then and there. So when you ask me why I have some problems that didn't come from the Army, I'll tell you this story.
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"FORTUNATE BIRTHDAY" Birthday doesn't only mean aging celebration on earth's surface. But tells how well one has grown wide and bestowed on earth's ground. Obviously she's prosperously come from womb. Her birth was full of fortunes, wishing @Kiki Oshinbajo a propitious birthday. A birthday diluted with protections, peace, and harmony, healthy donkey days. Peaceful Birthday, 'KIKI' #C9fm made up
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 6:33 PM UTC
FORTUNATE BIRTHDAY
love loving you and me love loving you my little children love loving you little by little. love loving you noonie and zion love loving you kiki boog and fat dad. love loving you my little children! love loving you darling, has a certain thing love loving you darling, o, how they love me love loving you darling, love loving you baby love loving you little dream love loving you who would have known it; love loving you little baby love loving you and i'm glad you to call you mine. gods greatest gift. love loving you is no surprise love loving you my little children . my greatest blessings call me mom love loving you and me love loving you my little children! Cara Chappell ©️
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Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
Loving them
Every Circuit                              There -      (and)               By      (this)               X - pressed.      (explicitly)      And ...      Consider                     (ed) -      This .      And ...      Consider                    (ing) -      This .      This .      Its      Not      As You Wished,      This  Uninvited     Sovereign -      This ...                   (Guest)      Never                    (Ever)      Less      This                   (Flesh)      Everest      I            (Mist) Will to James R. Morse, NYC. 2012 All Rights Reserved.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:22 PM UTC
poem for kiki smith.
I am inside a room It is so wonderful Seated on a complaining bed "Kiki kaka kiki kaka" The bed is complaining On it is a three inch mattress It is shrinked to one inch Before me is a table Full of complaining books Others lack hard cover Others pages were used as tissue Others pages were used as insulators On top of one is a Brocken pig pen It ran short of ink And it is complaining Working under unfavourable conditions To my left is a stove "Chululululu" The rice it a sufuria are complaining The gas is smelling At the furthest corner is a radio Complaining, shortage of power ........................................ Life cannot be such promising Seated alone and talking with apparatus within I am spending today To renovate them all That next time They praise not complain !
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
Check this Image
Once a knew a girl, a world traveler at best, who only wore heels and feather from her ears She loved to tells her stories to strangers she had met, and from her lips her lies were always charming People didn’t mind, or never knew because her smile was a rare form a radiating beauty And she held her head high; her glasses half full, a philosophy she learned from always hiding Classy, yet demanding fit to be a queen but there will never be anyone to fit her Her laugh made others happy as she sat on elephants, while her tears made even men cry Brave one, oh brave one, your snakes around your neck give kisses so don’t you fret But she will always be alone, loved by everyone but no one to stay with her forever As she grew older, her journeys slowed down seeking a permanent home Away from adventure, society’s glam, just her and her pet kiki Her red trailer was park on hill top to see how the world would go about without her Still wearing her heels and some sort of carcass, she thought she was still on the stage I met her again at train station, thrilled that I remember her from the past She the kind of girl who becomes famous without caring about her bills A genuine gracefulness, something that I will never forget she stand tall like an Amazon And although she was cultured, two bags at her side off again to make life meaning-full Classy, yet demanding fit to be a queen but there will never be anyone to fit her Her laugh made others happy as she sat on elephants, while her tears made even men cry Brave one, oh brave one, your snakes around your neck give kisses so don’t you fret But she will always be alone, loved by everyone but no one to stay with her forever
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
Story of a Girl
Once a knew a girl, a world traveler at best, who only wore heels and feather from her ears She loved to tells her stories to strangers she had met, and from her lips her lies were always charming People didn’t mind, or never knew because her smile was a rare form a radiating beauty And she held her head high; her glasses half full, a philosophy she learned from always hiding Classy, yet demanding fit to be a queen but there will never be anyone to fit her Her laugh made others happy as she sat on elephants, while her tears made even men cry Brave one, oh brave one, your snakes around your neck give kisses so don’t you fret But she will always be alone, loved by everyone but no one to stay with her forever As she grew older, her journeys slowed down seeking a permanent home Away from adventure, society’s glam, just her and her pet kiki Her red trailer was park on hill top to see how the world would go about without her Still wearing her heels and some sort of carcass, she thought she was still on the stage I met her again at train station, thrilled that I remember her from the past She the kind of girl who becomes famous without caring about her bills A genuine gracefulness, something that I will never forget she stand tall like an Amazon And although she was cultured, two bags at her side off again to make life meaning-full Classy, yet demanding fit to be a queen but there will never be anyone to fit her Her laugh made others happy as she sat on elephants, while her tears made even men cry Brave one, oh brave one, your snakes around your neck give kisses so don’t you fret But she will always be alone, loved by everyone but no one to stay with her forever
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There is little here in this sun-scaped city to press a frown onto my face. I feel free I've lost ten pounds my skin is smooth I bought new fashionable clothes and I laugh more than ever before, and that is what people see, will amber annex buster dani skyla rashid duane kiki chase adrianna all these new people who laugh at my funny name only see this happy smiling girl who is kind and quick to help and make jokes and dance and offer advice and yet despite the freedom I feel it comes with equal parts guilt. have I ever smiled so much before? The me people meet now is so new to me it feels like a lie it's nice of you to ask me on a date but how could I tell you the horrors of my past? with all this smiling you'd never believe the years of frowns and tears no one would think to look for the lines where you can see my burn scars they wouldn't look at my differently when I trace old bruises they don't think to be careful when touching me they don't have a clue and it's all I've ever wanted to have people think nothing is wrong for me to be like the other girls, but now that that's what people see, my smiles though real make me feel like I'm lying to everyone around me.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
Hello, My Name Is-
When I was a little girl, My daddy said he loved me, But when he drank, He would tell me to get the **** away, And hit me and my brothers, When I got a little older, He stopped hitting me, Especially at our weekend visits, Because he knew I would tell, But he still hit my brothers, And later even my sisters, But he talked down to me, And always drank, He said he loved me, At the end of the day, He'd even hold me when I slept, Or give me medicine when I got sick, But if he loved me, And mommy, And Boo, And Bubba, And Seren, And Kiki........ He wouldn't change all the time, And he wouldn't have hit us.. He treated us like property, Like he owned us, And everyone breaks their toys at one point, Now, Don't they? You cannot love an object, You cannot love your toys, You cannot love your property, I say I do not love him, I say I want him gone, But even though I see my step-dad as my father, All I ever wanted was for my daddy to love me back, To truly love me, And treat us like family, Not his objects, Now, I do not care, I truly do not care, I accept his existence, I do not love him, As my father, But deep down, I'll always love the good times, The fake thought of his fatherhood, But I love my step father, I enjoy his existence, He is my true You cannot love your property.... cdh
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
Love and Property
He shot Max. My God. He shot Max. Blood sprayed on the streets at the uniform's feet. They shot Kirby. Oh Lord. They shot Kirby. Bullet holes punch his flesh. Pain radiates fresh. She shot Kiki. F**k me. She shot Kiki. Inside her own fence? You call that self-defense? So man's best friend comes to an end.
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
Every Dog Has His Death
Dear Kiki, I know your're not yet gone yet we had such a wonderful bond that when I saw you on my bed with your small, soft head with your green, hazel eyes I wish that they were saying lies that you are NOT dead you're NOT what they said but I know the day will come where I will sing and hum your sweet soul to heaven where we will meet again I know the day has not passed but I hope the sadness does not last because I know we'll meet again In sweet, heavenly Nirvana.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
My Dear Dead Alive Cat
i can't. when trimming the calico hairs on skinly jaw. like trip-hop leaching out of your pearly ******* like magic-jesus. with porcelain around her animal seeds. where i can find: the swirling of Listerine flushing down the side of your throat. like swabbing for cells from the floor of your tongue like swapping girls. or (like) picnicking       deep inside flower-bait.blue trilling Gatorade apology/   simulating love. and even now. inside the folds of dead house plants   i would be okay if you stained my teeth with anything you had to offer. horse-whole in the water- milky for you- white as cuticles. like the **** me/ hum of the A/V cart hooked up and left running: nothing. stuffy in the boxed we built i am more perfect than camouflage like pipilotti rist screaming her lungs to pale ribbons. as kimono as Kiki was real she- as brave as anything i found it out. as fragrant as the deepest rooted thing- blissfull as the afternoon. as red as good cadmium. and that is ******* red
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Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 2:09 AM UTC
rooms off the hallway
And the most important thing in that the 2 other gold play with your beauty 2 honor actors and diamonds pray be hit 2 strong words as awesome If the editor and you have a lot of fun, your series / pop pop pop pop pop Oh 2-re-educating 1000's of warriors,     we,                  there are two men seriously choking on the gifts that            are easy-to-date or a bad attitude should not be too harsh in a word | Keke & Malorix came through a popped pop pop up and are here;     | | | |  Add 1 to 2 different flowers IBM   |me,        aired live, broadcast band 2 Oral border, WA Ul       naris IPIL Learn from Accra's Air 2 Adding flash 2 of 2|1 The price of one developer working Radio North Id-V on that day, and in a few minutes metacular; metacular yete wenech'ele -page salad / glory in no and hear A. Hein 3 times a baby is full of truth, and I make it of best to carry updates in four flours' updates for Asians hit casting at high altitude if liver liver 2 2 2 The New International York Museum join the United States of America 600,   United States of America, AZ, Seattle, New York, Seattle & New York, New York; New York, United States to live in a house where some of the pesos' songs were heard from the Romans. Domestic RN-CLI is equivalent to equality to the gods, CFT, Brazil, New York, New York, 120; | See how it was born in the United States of America and Russia; Russia, that's better, especially from 2 to other golds will enhance its beauty 2 honor 2 actors and diamonds pray be a hit in 2 strong words to say, if it's Books Day, and that much is on for her if she will be planted / pop pop pop pop p-OP Mark 2:2 ran, no two wars 'w' A-severely, severely hurt themselves today,    either the gifts of evil behavior, or if it is difficult for us | I came to many other places to be here with Kiki and Malory ix|| ||
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
Kiki and Malory ix
And the most important thing in that the 2 other gold play with your beauty 2 honor actors and diamonds pray be hit 2 strong words as awesome If the editor and you have a lot of fun, your series / pop pop pop pop pop Oh 2-re-educating 1000's of warriors,     we,                  there are two men seriously choking on the gifts that            are easy-to-date or a bad attitude should not be too harsh in a word | Keke & Malorix came through a popped pop pop up and are here;     | | | |  Add 1 to 2 different flowers IBM   |me,        aired live, broadcast band 2 Oral border, WA Ul       naris IPIL Learn from Accra's Air 2 Adding flash 2 of 2|1 The price of one developer working Radio North Id-V on that day, and in a few minutes metacular; metacular yete wenech'ele -page salad / glory in no and hear A. Hein 3 times a baby is full of truth, and I make it of best to carry updates in four flours' updates for Asians hit casting at high altitude if liver liver 2 2 2 The New International York Museum join the United States of America 600,   United States of America, AZ, Seattle, New York, Seattle & New York, New York; New York, United States to live in a house where some of the pesos' songs were heard from the Romans. Domestic RN-CLI is equivalent to equality to the gods, CFT, Brazil, New York, New York, 120; | See how it was born in the United States of America and Russia; Russia, that's better, especially from 2 to other golds will enhance its beauty 2 honor 2 actors and diamonds pray be a hit in 2 strong words to say, if it's Books Day, and that much is on for her if she will be planted / pop pop pop pop p-OP Mark 2:2 ran, no two wars 'w' A-severely, severely hurt themselves today,    either the gifts of evil behavior, or if it is difficult for us | I came to many other places to be here with Kiki and Malory ix|| ||
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(tales from the viral lock-down) Brice (my brother) is cutting through what smells like a stack of cinnamon french toast. My stomach growls at the aroma like a hunting cat. I jump out of bed, grab my robe and rush excitedly to the kitchen. I see the pan in the sink. gasp “You didn’t MAKE me any!!?” I accuse, in indignant shock. Brice, looking up, “JESUS, get on some fu-kin' clothes!” He waves his arms like he's fighting a flock of birds. I look down, “GOD, I AM wearing clothes, you PERV! - and a bathrobe” "Who says THAT’S a bathrobe??” He says, sarcastically. Me: “Kiki Montparnasse!”, I say, indignantly. My mom enters to fill her coffee cup. Brice: “Will you please tell YOUR DAUGHTER to get on some clothes?” My mom inspects me and I twirl for my audience. “That IS a little sheer”, she pronounces. “ARGH!, FINE,” I say, before stomping off to change. I start to fume."HE CAN GO ALL OVER IN BOXER SHORTS BUT I CAN'T WEAR A BATHROBE?!!" “And HE didn’t make EXTRA TOAST”, I yell back in pointed accusation. “Get to work,” (on more toast) I hear her tell him, just before I slam my door. another day… My brother Brice is fighting with his girl-friend on the phone. Of course, I'm only hearing 1/2 the conversation - but he sounds like a **** Me: "apologize," I silently, slowly, exaggeratedly mouth Brice: "fu-kovv," he mouths back, silently Me: "I'm your sister," I say, "I get to boss you around, besides, I KNOW what’s BEST" A minute later - He actually apologizes!!! And they make up. (I dance around the room like Rocky)
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Dec 13, 2020
Dec 13, 2020 at 7:15 AM UTC
Oh brother
(tales from the viral lock-down) Brice (my brother) is cutting through what smells like a stack of cinnamon french toast. My stomach growls at the aroma like a hunting cat. I jump out of bed, grab my robe and rush excitedly to the kitchen. I see the pan in the sink. gasp “You didn’t MAKE me any!!?” I accuse, in indignant shock. Brice, looking up, “JESUS, get on some fu-kin' clothes!” He waves his arms like he's fighting a flock of birds. I look down, “GOD, I AM wearing clothes, you PERV! - and a bathrobe” "Who says THAT’S a bathrobe??” He says, sarcastically. Me: “Kiki Montparnasse!”, I say, indignantly. My mom enters to fill her coffee cup. Brice: “Will you please tell YOUR DAUGHTER to get on some clothes?” My mom inspects me and I twirl for my audience. “That IS a little sheer”, she pronounces. “ARGH!, FINE,” I say, before stomping off to change. I start to fume."HE CAN GO ALL OVER IN BOXER SHORTS BUT I CAN'T WEAR A BATHROBE?!!" “And HE didn’t make EXTRA TOAST”, I yell back in pointed accusation. “Get to work,” (on more toast) I hear her tell him, just before I slam my door. another day… My brother Brice is fighting with his girl-friend on the phone. Of course, I'm only hearing 1/2 the conversation - but he sounds like a **** Me: "apologize," I silently, slowly, exaggeratedly mouth Brice: "fu-kovv," he mouths back, silently Me: "I'm your sister," I say, "I get to boss you around, besides, I KNOW what’s BEST" A minute later - He actually apologizes!!! And they make up. (I dance around the room like Rocky)
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I just crossed over it. That demarcation between who I thought I was, and wanted to be....and actually have become. Behind me now is that person I yearned to be. In unfamiliar territory now and expecting imminent destruction. Yet there is nothing here on this side of oblivion save a bottle of whiskey and pure existentialism. After having another drink and putting on Led Zeppelin's When The Levee Breaks, I remember a similar rainy night seven years ago, stealing two bottles of red wine from the Publix in St.Augustine and drinking said wine on the beach with Lauren and Kiki as the storm enveloped us in some sort of human connection. I never ****** either one of them but I would have liked to, but in those days I had no confidence even when drunk. In those days I didn't realize that I had something to give besides money and an averaged sized **** (even though it's not crooked). I believed in love and truth and was eventually shown by the world I find myself in now that there is nothing but the life we make for ourselves. It is not up to me to change the fetid world, it is not up to me to hunt down that ******* who pumped a nasty load all inside of a random **** victim. I was raised to believe that we actually had a purpose, a mission given to us to do all we can to negate human suffering. I realize now that it was all nothing but sheer false hope.
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
The Edge
N'olwazi lumala ne lwatika Naawe eyali yansuubiza obutaligenda,wamala nondeka Nondeka nga ndaaga nga ndi nzekka Bwebatyo omukwano gwaffe omungi gwetwalina neguyiika Naye kiki ekyagaana? Kuba omukwano gwaffe gwali mungi ng'ettaka Kino sakisuubila nti gulidda wansi negukka Naye kati omutima wamenya noleka awo Omukwano gwaffe wasuula busuuzi awo nga bisasilo ku kasasilo Byonna byetwayitamu,ng'ekisiimula wasiimula Kati bwenkuba essimu,oba ng'atagiwulira Bwoyamba nogikwata ebigambo byoyogela bindetela okwejjusa Naye eky'okukwagala sikyejjusa
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Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 2:33 PM UTC
Olwazi
I wonder if I’m too ****** up to ever get my ending Tattered and torn to shiny and new If Cinderella walked past me would I even notice her shoes? Do I act like I’m in love with you? Because I’m really trying hard Is this just how we do this now? Wipe modern love’s sweat from my modest brow It’s really hot out today Can you send me any nudes? Baby please be a cool girl I promise I won’t be ghosting you And moms, well they all love me Some ***** named Kiki loves me too Please buy all the ******** I’m selling you My wittiness and charisma is just all a clever ruse All of these matches couldn’t light a single fuse I wonder what the greatest generation would have to say to me and you? Cause there’s no more ******* foot pops No more dear John I love you’s Let me get out of this whirlpool before I drown in all the hearts Everyone says theirs is broken but you’d have to find it first Starter husband, starter home, starter **** and starter wife Someone smarter shouldn’t bother with my stupid ******* life Where the **** have we gotten to Where heys and how are yous Are so mundane and you complain When an emoji doesn’t follow suit I think I’ll stay down here in loneliness And maybe my dream it will appear She’ll be tall and she’ll be funny I’ll say everything she wants to hear It’s really hot out today Can you send me any nudes? Baby please be a cool girl I promise I won’t be ghosting you And moms, well they all love me Some ***** named Kiki loves me too Please buy all the ******** I’m selling you My wittiness and charisma is just all a clever ruse All of these matches cant light my fuse
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Matches and Fuses
I wonder if I’m too ****** up to ever get my ending Tattered and torn to shiny and new If Cinderella walked past me would I even notice her shoes? Do I act like I’m in love with you? Because I’m really trying hard Is this just how we do this now? Wipe modern love’s sweat from my modest brow It’s really hot out today Can you send me any nudes? Baby please be a cool girl I promise I won’t be ghosting you And moms, well they all love me Some ***** named Kiki loves me too Please buy all the ******** I’m selling you My wittiness and charisma is just all a clever ruse All of these matches couldn’t light a single fuse I wonder what the greatest generation would have to say to me and you? Cause there’s no more ******* foot pops No more dear John I love you’s Let me get out of this whirlpool before I drown in all the hearts Everyone says theirs is broken but you’d have to find it first Starter husband, starter home, starter **** and starter wife Someone smarter shouldn’t bother with my stupid ******* life Where the **** have we gotten to Where heys and how are yous Are so mundane and you complain When an emoji doesn’t follow suit I think I’ll stay down here in loneliness And maybe my dream it will appear She’ll be tall and she’ll be funny I’ll say everything she wants to hear It’s really hot out today Can you send me any nudes? Baby please be a cool girl I promise I won’t be ghosting you And moms, well they all love me Some ***** named Kiki loves me too Please buy all the ******** I’m selling you My wittiness and charisma is just all a clever ruse All of these matches cant light my fuse
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