"laundries" poems
Nationality shipping ******
Strategy damage fragments
***** puke ***** fraction
Biological ***** disobedience
Fannie pictorial laundries
****** manhood caliphate
Woodworks Biebers frites
****** vandal’s fakes
Utmost openly grim
******* ************
Piled dish cell
Discuss **** ******
Jihad imbeciles reincarnation
Fear fears America
Watching emptiness falling
Dinner screaming nonsense
Deadly velvet laughs
Banality quack leprosy
Games flood biting
Tv nation ******
Swallowed road poets
Animal replied stories
Creature’s terminal idea
Explodes gloom stare
Selling young crack
Game scratch *******
Confuse spill scream
Genitals China responsibility
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
There is dirt all over my face
Dirt in my hair down to the floor
Big pieces and lumps of dirt
Floating through the space and air
I never have to do the cleaning
I got dirt piled up everywhere
And it crawls out of the woodworks
Like ***** words in ***** laundries
Dirt is dead ***** serious to me
**** makes me ***** happy and free
Like ***** waste and ***** waste of time
Clean dirt makes me want to cry
I got dirt in my liver
And dirt in my brain
I eat dirt for dinner
And I'm ***** insane
Dirt is dirt ***** beautiful to me
Dirt is the fuel and dirt is the light
Stained and sprayed with dirt
I live my ***** life
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
" the spectator "
i am not writing for 5k
i'm not preparing for compilation
i am not trying to set new record
i'm not trying to impress you,,i was just saving my life
the thing is.... I feel like dizzy because i am lack of sleep
doing alone all the laundries
then i need to wake up early to hang those over
even though i am too sleepy!yet 12 hours of driving is await for me
i am telling you this because my privacy
is just like a book on the library
you can read me all over again,if you want to pick me up
but then again,,there is a policy beyond my legacy...
" ONCE YOU ARE GETTING STARTED TO TURN ME ON
YOU WILL STAND-OUT AND I WON'T EVER LET YOU DOWN "
MY SWEET AND WARMTH ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO ALL
EVER SINCE THE DEBUT POEM OF MINE,,HEARD BY A CALL
starting from then on
my INVITATION and INAUGURATION
boost my self to face more aspiration
and i do believe that " a day after " is our comprehension
such as my own motto in life and it goes something like this...
" Tomorrow will never be the same beautiful as you unless you keep
yesterday seems to be precious,, for you to surprisingly
survive the essence of today's challenges! "
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
One hundred and fifty travelers each day
Arrive from West African climes.
While its clearly insane to let them board planes
They can travel on scheduled airlines.
If they’re asymptomatic, they enter our ports.
Is the government out of its mind?
With dishwashers and Laundries our first line of defense
Ebola will spread over time.
Airline and hotel stocks are selling off big
Pharmaceuticals ought to do fine.
A nurse who watched Duncan as he sickened and died
Flies to Cleveland and back to big D
Her temperature was merely ninety nine point five.
“.Oh, you’re fine.” said the C-D-C.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
"One fine morning,
As usual Mary went for jog,
and while returning home, she checked the letter box,
Besides the usual bills, advertisements and offers
There lay this ominous letter in black and crimson color...
and of course,
curiosity got better of her and she was ripping of the edges
and on scanning the contents
she gave out a shrill cry...
her fingers trembling
her forehead sweating...
It was a suicide letter!!
A letter with news of death
A letter from a man
who wrote this
before his few last breaths...
Slowly she read each word..
each one of them echoing in her head..
the letter went as follows-
Dear Jane,
I love you a lot,
and I know you will be in shock and pain,
but I couldn't handle it anymore,
I found my answers in the dark,
I found solace in enternal bliss,
I just want you to stay strong,
and fulfill my last wish,
so lend me your attention, woman,
Do you remember that old paino we have in the attic?,
I want you to gift that to my small sister,
Lily is naive and she would miss me and won't find any thing
To call her own anymore,
Give her this paino so that she may hold it dear to her heart,
If you don't do this for me,
then I am afraid my soul wouldn't rest,
and in a fortnight I would be chasing you as a ghoul,
you will always be my girl,
Love,
Peter
Mary read and re-read again and again,
then she finally gave a sigh of relief,
and picked up her phone and went to do laundries,
You see,
the letter had reached the wrong destination.
(what a irony)"
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
It seems a while since Jesus died.
Not that I believe in the chap,
But if he were magically real, I'd
Think he'd be appalled at all this crap.
It seems a while since laundries reigned
And women were shamed and sent away,
But, alas, we've lost as much as gained
As men control our fate today.
It seems a while since Markievicz fought,
But still didn't suffer the fate of men.
Different powers today have sold and bought,
But it's power the same as it was then.
It seems a while since rampant abuse -
We thought they'd run out of kids to **** -
Of course, I'm joking, there's always an excuse
To **** and ruck and then not look.
This Easter let's bow our heads and pray
And think about our moral code.
Just kidding, there's ***** on Good Friday -
We'll be hung-over as we erode.
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
They hung laundries like prayers,
these women, there, new to pants,
between Beechfield and Brisbane.
And all the actions were in the alley,
the zipper between, where we,
young thuggeries in our dungarees,
plied bicycle trades on summer days.
Even flies shunned our manes.
Fists and spit and baseball cards.
Skates and snakes and fenced-in yards.
Each these swinging statues,
thrown, frozen, spun, fastened
to concrete and rash.
And yes, there, the women,
the mothers, pinning towels
like code, pinning sheets on wire,
glancing through a breeze, they saw it all:
saw us, the young and barely criminal,
rang it up the chain.
And yes, oh yes, these mothers,
there'd be hell to pay,
there'd be hell to pay
come dinnertime.
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 6:16 AM UTC