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"lazer" poems
.                             A hard-on                         doesn't  count                       as personal  gro                      wth.If  you  want                      to  hear  the  pitte                        r - patter of littl                        e feet,  I'll put s                        hoes on my cat.                        This isn't an off                        ice , it's hell wit                        h florescent lig                        hting.How do I                        set a lazer prin                        ter to stun? I m                        ajored in Libera                        l arts. Will that                        be for here or t                        o go? Too many                        freaks, not eno                        ugh circuses.  I                        have a comput                        er, a ******** a                        nd pizza delive                        ry .Why should                        I leave the hou       se? Stress is wh   en you wake up scr eaming and you re    alize you  haven't  fal *** asleep yet. I like  dogs  too .  Let's  exch   ange recipes.  And   yo u r      c r y b a b y             whiny- assed   o      pinion      is?      Al        low me to intro       duce my selves.
0
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Sarcastic ****
.                             A hard-on                         doesn't  count                       as personal  gro                      wth.If  you  want                      to  hear  the  pitte                        r - patter of littl                        e feet,  I'll put s                        hoes on my cat.                        This isn't an off                        ice , it's hell wit                        h florescent lig                        hting.How do I                        set a lazer prin                        ter to stun? I m                        ajored in Libera                        l arts. Will that                        be for here or t                        o go? Too many                        freaks, not eno                        ugh circuses.  I                        have a comput                        er, a ******** a                        nd pizza delive                        ry .Why should                        I leave the hou       se? Stress is wh   en you wake up scr eaming and you re    alize you  haven't  fal *** asleep yet. I like  dogs  too .  Let's  exch   ange recipes.  And   yo u r      c r y b a b y             whiny- assed   o      pinion      is?      Al        low me to intro       duce my selves.
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32
A hero in a book or movie. Fighting the evil queen. Reclaming a homeland-or mountain. Saving the world with a companion in a blue boxs. Leading a rebelion. Beind captain of a ship- Serenity or the USS Enterpise. Cathing a serial killer. Or stopping a psychotic well dressed villian. One man or woman saving the world. When I was younger I wished I could be like them. But now I can barely fight the demons in my mind. Why would I dream of saving the day when I am not sure I want to live another day? Life is no fairy tail. This is not Middle-Earth or Narnia. There are villians and monsters yes but not ones that we can defeat during wizzard chess or with a want or lazer sword. They are just as real and dangerous. But the live in our minds. I tried to run from the watching tv series and movies and reading books. Dreaming of another life. But eventualy the demons got closer to chatching up. And no hero will be able to safe me. I will have to fight the monsters in my head myself, all on my own. And I hope that I will be strong and brave enough when that time comes.
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
A hero
I want to take better advice Latest being love like you've never been hurt Dance like nobody's watching Keller knows a thing or two I found part of myself within those Break Science Lights Pigeons creating a helix of electricity Within the shallow depths of my fingertips Thankfully I can pull it closer Feel it's lazer beam muscle spasm ****** Straight through to the other side of how I think How I interact with the pulsing beat pounding within my vasodilated veins I lost the darkness in your shadows I found the light in mine We raged that night until our bodies, twisted and wounded like geriatric versions of ourselves Fell into tired cuddle puddles Smiling, saturated with festival funk All thoughts dissolving into psychedelic dreams
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Barefoot
4am and my eyes are killing me, and I'm dull and sore and **** **** **** **** **** Leaning against an arcade booth of Street Fighter 2 watching them dance in green lazer lights. We decided to go back to her friend's place. Her friend got wine, he got beer. He ****** in the bushes. Admitted he was drunk. On the roof of her friend's apartment, I ****** down a cold coffee, and we played acoustic music. We climbed higher on the roof. They smoked and drank, and just generally shot the **** Something bad happened between him and her; she ran off crying, he's calling her a child, a baby. He's pretending he's not mad, pretending he's in control of his emotions while lashing out. Throws a beer bottle, decides to leave. She practically begs him for a ride home. Me and her friend want so badly for her to stay. Stay. She leaves with him. Drunk and ****** to drive her home. I start walking home soon after. I get lost on a street. It's 2am and I'm jumping up and down waving my hands, trying to get someone to just tell me where I am. A man across the street must be taking out garbage, I walk across the street and say, "Excuse me sir?" He shouts, "No! Go back across the street! NO!" like I'm a ******* wild animal. I ask him, "Can you just tell me where Bluestone is?" He tells me to go north. His input is useless. I hope he dies of pancreatic cancer. I kick a can and yell, **** all of you, collectively!" to the suburban nightmare I'm trapped in. "I hope they nuke this ******* **** stain neighborhood!" Kick an empty Arizona can in contempt and disgust. I have a small monologue with myself and almost break down on the sidewalk. Walk back to practically where I came from, and take the long way home. On my way I pass a stranger who asks, "Dig?" No ******* idea what they meant. I dodge the skunks and grab a hubcap. Wanted a trinket. I think I'm gonna have a ******* aneurism.
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 4:49 AM UTC
"I Hope They Nuke This **** Stain Town and Drown the Earth in it's Ashes."
4am and my eyes are killing me, and I'm dull and sore and **** **** **** **** **** Leaning against an arcade booth of Street Fighter 2 watching them dance in green lazer lights. We decided to go back to her friend's place. Her friend got wine, he got beer. He ****** in the bushes. Admitted he was drunk. On the roof of her friend's apartment, I ****** down a cold coffee, and we played acoustic music. We climbed higher on the roof. They smoked and drank, and just generally shot the **** Something bad happened between him and her; she ran off crying, he's calling her a child, a baby. He's pretending he's not mad, pretending he's in control of his emotions while lashing out. Throws a beer bottle, decides to leave. She practically begs him for a ride home. Me and her friend want so badly for her to stay. Stay. She leaves with him. Drunk and ****** to drive her home. I start walking home soon after. I get lost on a street. It's 2am and I'm jumping up and down waving my hands, trying to get someone to just tell me where I am. A man across the street must be taking out garbage, I walk across the street and say, "Excuse me sir?" He shouts, "No! Go back across the street! NO!" like I'm a ******* wild animal. I ask him, "Can you just tell me where Bluestone is?" He tells me to go north. His input is useless. I hope he dies of pancreatic cancer. I kick a can and yell, **** all of you, collectively!" to the suburban nightmare I'm trapped in. "I hope they nuke this ******* **** stain neighborhood!" Kick an empty Arizona can in contempt and disgust. I have a small monologue with myself and almost break down on the sidewalk. Walk back to practically where I came from, and take the long way home. On my way I pass a stranger who asks, "Dig?" No ******* idea what they meant. I dodge the skunks and grab a hubcap. Wanted a trinket. I think I'm gonna have a ******* aneurism.
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55
It was really a Lazer Tag survival love story. Two kids in a 4 year summer-- She just shot me in the end. Bang Bang Never understood if it was intentional, if her gun went out of her control, if she was sorry afterwards. I doubt she understood either.
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Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
Grade-A Novacane (Intro)
Lazer strike me in euphoria You love me from the first As my pressure dropped Unfit recollection pump It's as if I lost my place The very earth I stand on Out of touch and out of line Alien make me crazy As you do when I slumber As I lie, you ****** my own My breath fades and I co-exist On the remote control I respond Through these veins I shall live Out of touch and out of line In the shell of hell and fire Whom can believe this my alien? You tainted me from proper love The thoughts that trap and own me more than these words on a script Objected to your subjective film Out of touch and out of line Blurred unpleasant satins encase My feet fail to ground on this life Your volcano erupts me in trips Grant me time to think twice As I remember when you forced that very filth indifferent to mine Out of touch and out of line
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Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
The Alien and I: Out of Touch; Out of Line
Lazer-red dot seeping sideways into dazzling lip of stretching smile Growing at every glance to utmost beauty I've seen you now rolling-heavy-trundle out of that half-barn to stand behind the tree stumps in your glory in the corner of the field There you are orange-quiet and warm round-and-large Lifting on your heavenly thread over cuckoo-breast and brook majestic sloe-berry hop and now you're at the top of furrowed field bathing woodpecker into pink-knock-bliss Lighting wooden tables in antique rooms with dusty shafts of soul
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Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 3:05 AM UTC
FEBRUARY SUNRISE
I'd make art that wasn't the equivalent of processed microwave food, without the "gourmet" label. Then again equal validity in creation is only debatable if you're an ******* who believes any of this has meaning. If you're taking yourself seriously, you're going to get ****** up by the **** end of this joke; Art is more than these observable qualities of reality. It is beyond us. However, everything we are is made of the stuff. We are art. Life is art. Life is meaningless Art is meaningless. We are meaningless. You. You are meaningless as well. Roll on snare... None of this holds real validity. Abuse of cymbal. In this lifetime I want so many things that simply will not happen. She says my "dreams" are floaty although I know I won't live to see them. Life flies by so fast it's a wonder we don't get tickets. I want light that moves at 40mph and scorches on impact. Explodes like fireworks. It should glow; green or blue. I'd use it to cook these dinners, burn these notebooks, **** these mother ******* guitars.
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
"If I Had a Cannon That Shot Lazer Beams."
Lazer *********** Got me spilling my blood Onto the messiah. Lazer *********** Got me lick sphere on The ghetto miscarriage. When the well of your libido Becomes the price you live for There is no turning back You have reached your exit. Lazer *********** Got me dying in the underground dressed as the leather God. Lazer *********** I owe nothing to Jesus Christ So I will ********** until my own Crucifixion When your life and your memores Are bartered for one minute of heat And you keep wondering how they heard about it                                          In the church                                          On the street When the 'roaches speed in the ****** of your soul You are thrown down and wasted In torment. Lazer *********** Selling faster than equinox Justice melts in pig money From Bermuda And if art must wear The recline against life Then it is truly wondrous.
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
LAZER *********** (1994)
Turn it up, play it loud. Drop the bass, make 'em shout. Take me to my happy place, erase all the ******** and make it all glow like the lazer lights and smoke machines. Cuz tonight, all I want is to dance, forget, dream and repeat the cycle till im blazed on the high of life. Riding the waves of euphoria like a surfer of high tides. C'est ma vie, live it up and never leave. Letting the music overtake me giving me goosebumps beyond the skin. Feeling my heart beat speed up, and remembering what it is to fall in love again.
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
Rave like its ur Life
Autumn squash soup sits on window sill of cardboard boxes. Pumpkin pie wafts down alleyway sits against a house. The earthy colored scarfs. The brown boots and the blue glow from the 360 degree moon. All look beautiful on you. The speed limit is 30 miles an hour here But i've been going 45 And I never look at my speedometer. When the cop lights shine behind me glowing white and red and blue I'm reminded why in fall, the color orange doesn't scare me. I get a knock knock on my window from a man dressed in blue. And when he asks me if i'm guilty i can't help but dream of you. It's still fall season. And I don't have snow tires yet. But the weather man in my head said i've got time. Mr. Officer in response to your question Yes, I know why you pulled me over. It seems that i'm on roadside trial for daydreaming. And that slightly blue glow from the 360 degree moon sure does look great against your blue suit. Mr. Officer. The color orange doesn't scare me. Pumpkin carving flicker glow Lantern guide you too your child home While your there is there a rope swing? Is the grass cut? Are you dreaming? Is there a pie in the windowsill? Because the baker inside. waits for me tonight. And i've been apple picking lazer tag Holding soft hands in a graveyard. Singing showtunes in our costumes that we struggled to sew together. Mr officer. Do you even like pie? Do you dream the scent and flavors? Does it linger in your mouth? Because to be honest I think I'm going to love her.
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
RoadSide Trial for Daydreaming
Autumn squash soup sits on window sill of cardboard boxes. Pumpkin pie wafts down alleyway sits against a house. The earthy colored scarfs. The brown boots and the blue glow from the 360 degree moon. All look beautiful on you. The speed limit is 30 miles an hour here But i've been going 45 And I never look at my speedometer. When the cop lights shine behind me glowing white and red and blue I'm reminded why in fall, the color orange doesn't scare me. I get a knock knock on my window from a man dressed in blue. And when he asks me if i'm guilty i can't help but dream of you. It's still fall season. And I don't have snow tires yet. But the weather man in my head said i've got time. Mr. Officer in response to your question Yes, I know why you pulled me over. It seems that i'm on roadside trial for daydreaming. And that slightly blue glow from the 360 degree moon sure does look great against your blue suit. Mr. Officer. The color orange doesn't scare me. Pumpkin carving flicker glow Lantern guide you too your child home While your there is there a rope swing? Is the grass cut? Are you dreaming? Is there a pie in the windowsill? Because the baker inside. waits for me tonight. And i've been apple picking lazer tag Holding soft hands in a graveyard. Singing showtunes in our costumes that we struggled to sew together. Mr officer. Do you even like pie? Do you dream the scent and flavors? Does it linger in your mouth? Because to be honest I think I'm going to love her.
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34
I just wanted more than drunken decisions and Poorly-lit mistakes. Or at least a better soundtrack. Or at least, a killer budget for special effects. We could have made this a masterpiece of collusion; rockets and robots with lazer eyes, A daring chase scene; one of us in the shower, the other, knife in hand, or watching as someone, knife in hand, ruined the (nail-biting, will-they/won't-they) romance. I can hear the critics now, “The acting was terrible but there were some amazing explosions and I sure loved the location.” “Their chemistry seemed a little forced, Am I really supposed to believe it was a lie from the get go? I just don’t know if I can stomach the clear and unfortunate selection of that leading lady, of that leading man.”
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
This is a B-Poem, but it's still yours.
oh wow, i luv u normally i’d be eating pizza but i luv u i luv u too much to eat food but i dont luv u enough to not think about the food (which makes me sad) i luv u so much that i wish i looked like u because i luv ur looks more than my looks yesterday my mom bought a lazer pointer for my cat to play with this morning i used tht lazer pointer and the cat went wild n chased it up the stairs the cat is me and the lazer is u <3 nice
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Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
luv poem for everyone that im making up as i type right now right here. also love and luv are two totally separate things
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection I WOKE UP IN HELL* I must've slept a good four hours before I was awoken by a peal of crazy laughter. The other girls had gotten up, and were not at ALL respectful of the fact that I'd arrived only hours ago, and needed a full nights sleep. There were nine of us in that room... the size of a small motel room. And one mirror. One sink. ONE TOILET. IT WAS INSANE. The cackle was emanating from a bleached blonde who's face was reminiscent of a Proboscis monkey. "How'm ah gonna bleach mah hayah?! She asked, querrilously. Her drawl was purposely drawn out and irritating. She pulled at the lifeless black & white reverse skunk fur on her head. Then announced that she needed to dye her ***** hair, too! except she put it with such vulgarity I blushed. "SHUT UP!" Shouted a girl with eyes flared open so wide you could see the whites completely around the irises as black as olives. This female was to become my worst enemy. But right now I seconded her sentiment profoundly. And said so. Her eyes snapped my direction and narrowed. She didn't like me from the jump. Some women are like that. And there is no appeasing them. The other girls I got along with. But not her. NEVER her. The blonde stormed from the tiny room, shooting me such a poisonous look that I felt the acid spray my face. Cheers went up from several of my roommates. But black-eyes just turned a shoulder as cold as liquid nitrogen. "Serious. How do we bathe? I asked. The shower was, evidently, broken. "There's showers by the pool area," replied a pretty, albeit rather pear shaped girl. She was stuffed into a blouse & skirt which appeared 2 sizes too small. "C'mon. I'll show you..." We left the mildewed room, the lazer beams of black-eye boring into my back... I HAD JUST MADE A DANGEROUS ENEMY, WITHOUT KNOWING HOW OR WHY.
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
MADWOMAN ACROSS THE WATER (PART XI)
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection I WOKE UP IN HELL* I must've slept a good four hours before I was awoken by a peal of crazy laughter. The other girls had gotten up, and were not at ALL respectful of the fact that I'd arrived only hours ago, and needed a full nights sleep. There were nine of us in that room... the size of a small motel room. And one mirror. One sink. ONE TOILET. IT WAS INSANE. The cackle was emanating from a bleached blonde who's face was reminiscent of a Proboscis monkey. "How'm ah gonna bleach mah hayah?! She asked, querrilously. Her drawl was purposely drawn out and irritating. She pulled at the lifeless black & white reverse skunk fur on her head. Then announced that she needed to dye her ***** hair, too! except she put it with such vulgarity I blushed. "SHUT UP!" Shouted a girl with eyes flared open so wide you could see the whites completely around the irises as black as olives. This female was to become my worst enemy. But right now I seconded her sentiment profoundly. And said so. Her eyes snapped my direction and narrowed. She didn't like me from the jump. Some women are like that. And there is no appeasing them. The other girls I got along with. But not her. NEVER her. The blonde stormed from the tiny room, shooting me such a poisonous look that I felt the acid spray my face. Cheers went up from several of my roommates. But black-eyes just turned a shoulder as cold as liquid nitrogen. "Serious. How do we bathe? I asked. The shower was, evidently, broken. "There's showers by the pool area," replied a pretty, albeit rather pear shaped girl. She was stuffed into a blouse & skirt which appeared 2 sizes too small. "C'mon. I'll show you..." We left the mildewed room, the lazer beams of black-eye boring into my back... I HAD JUST MADE A DANGEROUS ENEMY, WITHOUT KNOWING HOW OR WHY.
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11
the brilliance of the darkness served only to annunciate the loudness of the passing silence While the pervasiveness of the defeated idea continues to occur in self-[a.s.s].embly lines The nano utilizes a scope of micro to flesh out the macro Simultaneous non-being duly correlates to the emptiness of the tao’s pot-shaped,quantum hat Possibility is endless, until you enlist knowledge as your retainer The origin of all particular things is lost through the knower being zenly slapped, I just would have loved to help schroedinger's cat pur......... what a ***** he wouldn’t even open the box to check her. Dear ∞ this is my letter to you while I let her be bound in quite comfortably in lazer-light leather.
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Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 1:00 PM UTC
Non-nano Being
She gave me a box of sixty four But told me to color in the lines. I colored inside the lines of the lazer-printed firetruck; I colored it Forest Green And Tickle Me Pink. "Firetrucks are red."Gentle but stern. Timidly, I took out my drawing of her, Skin Purple Mountains Majesty. Her apron was Cerulean, But her frown Scarlet Red. My tears were clear. There was no color for tears In the box of sixty four, But all my firetrucks were colored Red, All my drawings of her were Peach. And her lips were always Scarlet Red.
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
kinder
I hold so much hatred it feels as though the taught skin layered upon my chest might rupture open, All to reveal my ribs worn frail and thin from the boiling, thick, acid anger that gnaws at my heart How does one extract this burning from one's chest cavity and push it out their fingertips? I crave those red lazer beams that reflect out fingernails and bounce far off into the galaxy, away from this broken body that contains them. People tell me it can be done. Just picture the waves lapping upon crusted sand, taking with each retraction the scurf of yesterday's emotions. Imagine clean, crisp, Antarctic skylines filled with pure glistening oxygen, untainted by life's noxious fumes. Yet still if I open my mouth I fear I may ***** up every toxic thought cloud that permeates my skull. So blinded by thoughtless emotion and the inability to explain away the fearful behavior it produces. So sometimes I climb back into the corner of my mind. Sit there till my extremities are numb with the inability to feel any longer. Sit on the world, dwelling on every ****** life event, til the tiny taupe toothpick castles I once so cautiously and carefully constructed, are burnt to ash by tiny tissue paper dragons.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
lofty expectations
Dear Josh, You were my first love, you made me realize that Love wasnt so scary It was beautiful and true. But even before we loved you were my best friend. You were my Joey The guy who was there when I needed someone to turn to making my laugh with your silly MURSNARKing The guy who walked three miles in 90 degree weather just so he could go lazer tag with me. My Joey the one who stood in and came to a family pig roast Because my ******* boyfriend refused to go and he wondered why I left him for you I miss you I miss my Joey We use to talk 24/7 day and night no matter what Yes we dated for two years we went through hell and back We fell apart and broke away left off on such horrid terms I just want you to know I dont hate you I never could You're still dear to me and stuck in my heart I don't miss us as a couple. I miss us as friends I miss my Joey My best friend From Nicy
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Dear Josh
I woke in a confused state beyond fixing or controlling. The lazer beams were still fresh off the clock But the monkeys had full possession. Clearly, logistics were backwards And complete world ********** would have to wait Till tomorrow or the next day. I put on my trousers and got right to work On trying to figure out a way For every child to eat Golden sugar puffs in complete unison for only then could i qualify for a nobel peace prize. I said **** the midgets and spiraled into a complete mental breakdown for the walls began to scream ****** ****** and the china men were officially on time and wearing their fanciest suites. Clearly, I was outnumbered. So I devised a new plan, on the go in order to navigate thru the city traffic. Push came to shove, and eventually I found myself in a maze filled with clones of a specific woman named Marlae. Her face was ugly and full of zits but none the less I made love to her left hand until the sun came up giving me permission to finally enter the inside of her body. Spinning thru the details I decided to take a shower because the conference was in 76 hours and I only had 15 minutes to get to the conference. 65 days later, I found the keys to my under appreciated heart, giving me the mental strength to sleep again Until next time.
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Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
You can not
this is about love and i hate it. this is ******** and blushing gushing words from my red cheeks maybe i mean both kind but that's between you and me and i love it. This is me saying this ******* awful poem and wanting to drink battery acid at how cliche it is. This is me probably not looking you in the eye in the audience because a. I will laugh and b. anxiety tells me not to just in case i accidentally activate my lazer death eyes and incinerate you and that would **** because I'd like to own a dog with you at some point. This is me, even though i tell you every day, telling you that you annoy the **** out of me and that you pronounce caramel wrong. its caramel not carmle you ******* reprobate. This is me saying yeah **** IT let him see the over emotional gremlin made of paint and trash who lives exclusively off sweet potato, crisps and whiskey. This is me taking off the mask for you, and the balacava, and the large duffle coat and thick gardening gloves and 8 pairs of leggings. this is me thanking you for being so patient as i cry in bed because i left lidl knowing full well the lady charged me wrong and i owe her money and i can never go back there again or show my face in public and also for all the other times i've cried in bed over dumb **** How to train your dragon 2, the many times i've convinced myself im dying of insert terminal illness here, when you said I love you and I said 'what ever'. This is me being less of the pile of garbage i was before i met you. Now my bin bag has some fake jewels on it and its shiny and sparkly.
0
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
Untitled
this is about love and i hate it. this is ******** and blushing gushing words from my red cheeks maybe i mean both kind but that's between you and me and i love it. This is me saying this ******* awful poem and wanting to drink battery acid at how cliche it is. This is me probably not looking you in the eye in the audience because a. I will laugh and b. anxiety tells me not to just in case i accidentally activate my lazer death eyes and incinerate you and that would **** because I'd like to own a dog with you at some point. This is me, even though i tell you every day, telling you that you annoy the **** out of me and that you pronounce caramel wrong. its caramel not carmle you ******* reprobate. This is me saying yeah **** IT let him see the over emotional gremlin made of paint and trash who lives exclusively off sweet potato, crisps and whiskey. This is me taking off the mask for you, and the balacava, and the large duffle coat and thick gardening gloves and 8 pairs of leggings. this is me thanking you for being so patient as i cry in bed because i left lidl knowing full well the lady charged me wrong and i owe her money and i can never go back there again or show my face in public and also for all the other times i've cried in bed over dumb **** How to train your dragon 2, the many times i've convinced myself im dying of insert terminal illness here, when you said I love you and I said 'what ever'. This is me being less of the pile of garbage i was before i met you. Now my bin bag has some fake jewels on it and its shiny and sparkly.
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1
I just want to live in the lazer lights And breath in the thumps of the bass
0
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 12:58 AM UTC
I never Escaped
Slowly, opening, displaying their leaves Through hues of all colours their magic weaves Calla, Tiger, Stargazer Fragrant, Vibrant, Bright as a lazer Sitting pretty, on my kitchen shelf Water maintaining their perfect health Purple in colour they are very pleasing to the eye Everyone comments as they pass by A wonderful fragrance perfumes the room A wonderful flower, a beautiful bloom The perfect flower  to say "thank you" Or to walk down the aisle with, when you say "I do
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Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 1:36 PM UTC
Lillies
By: Cedric McClester She’s been vetted More than most Others would have quit Or long been toast She’s still standing That’s no idle boast And she’s never stopped  running From coast to coast How many times Have they knocked her down And she’s gotten back up Off the ground Brushed her shoulders Then looked around Two steps ahead of Their blood hound Her enemies are everywhere Pointing their fingers But she doesn’t care Cuz who the hell are they Trying to scare She’s never been naive She's accutely aware They're always coming at her loaded for bear She’s lazer focused’ And she won’t relent Until they call her Madame President And if you think not You haven’t got a hint Cuz she’s determined And she has the blueprint Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
SHE'S STILL STANDING!
Water man splashes across the counter, And leaps across spaces and follows my mind, He morphs into colors and turns into droplets, and sparkels like raindrops and intricate lines, He glitters and rises and shapes into fire, above all the dishes he shows me a sign, He draws a geometry making a pyramid, Red lazer structure of historical times, Down to the basement a firey sphere, Drops to the floor and beneath me is clear, A red firey army of lava men march, upon idle spectrum, Existing a hearth, The fires of childhood, The embers of love, Beliefs about god and a heaven above, Alone in my bedroom imagined the world, Only found hatred destruction and girls. FIgurines, Magazines, Books, and My toys, Basketballs, bikes, remote control noise, Yelling and fighting and screaming and swears, Pajamas and light and my eyelashes stares, The fruits of desire and something I liked, The things that I wanted, the things that I might, Begin to see clearer as falacious lies, The imposter goals, and the plans, and the skies. Alone in my room is where everythings real, The realest me and the realest steel, Nose in the vent breathing cold air alas, The world was rock and I was a glass.
0
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
Idle Spectum