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DC raw love Dec 2014
We lose so much talent to addiction
Some of you may not care, but I do
This is my tribute to them

Alan Wilson
Canned Heat

Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience

Janis Joplin

Jim Morrison
The Doors

Brian Cole
The Association

Billy Murcia
New York Dolls

Danny Whitten
Crazy Horse

Gram Parsons
The Stooges

Gary Thain
Uriah Heep

Elvis Presley

Gregory Herbert
Blood, Sweat & Tears

Keith Moon
The Who

Sid Vicious
*** Pistols

Lowell George
Little Feat

Jimmy McCulloch
Wings

John Bonham
Led Zeppelin

Darby Crash
Germs

James Honeyman-Scott
Pretenders

Pete Farndon
Pretenders

Paul Gardiner
Tubeway Army

Gary Holton
Heavy Metal Kids

Phil Lynott
Thin Lizzy

Andrew Wood
Mother Love Bone

Brent Mydland
Grateful Dead

Steve Clark
Def Leppard

Johnny Thunders
New York Dolls

David Ruffin
The Temptations

Kristen Pfaff
Hole

Shannon Hoon
Blind Melon

Bradley Nowell
Sublime

John Kahn
Jerry Garcia Band

Jonathan Melvoin
The Smashing Pumpkins

Billy Mackenzie
Associates

West Arkeen
The Outpatience

Nick Traina
Link 80

John Baker Saunders
Mad Season


Bobby Sheehan
Blues Traveler

Wes Berggren
Tripping Daisy

Allen Woody
The Allman Brothers Band

Carl Crack
Atari Teenage Riot

Layne Staley
Alice in Chains/Mad Seasons

Kurt Cobain
Nirvana

Dee Dee
Ramones

Robbin Crosby
Ratt

John Entwistle
The Who

Howie Epstein
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Jeremy Michael Ward
De Facto

Tim Hemensley
GOD

Dave Schulthise
The Dead Milkmen

Rick James

Kevin DuBrow
Quiet Riot

Ike Turner

Gidget Gein
Marilyn Manson

Jay Bennett
Wilco

Michael Jackson

The Rev
Avenged Sevenfold


Paul Gray
Slipknot

Mike Starr
Alice in Chains

Amy Winehouse


We are not bad people, we just have bad ways
Yet, not many understand
Have love in your heart for all
We are all one in the same
Rahul Luthra Mar 2014
Srinu, you demented little kid
To have you in my life i don't know what good things i did!
You can really take a bad song and make it better
We all know how crazy you are about Helter Skelter
You'd make a better actor than the guy who played Bane
I'm telling you, for the music industry, you're the next Kurt Cobain!
Man I'd love to see you perform 'House of the Holy'
I'm pretty sure you'll never leave the guitar, not even for the Cannoli
When you get hyper you remind us all of the Incredible Hulk
You're the happiest kid I've ever seen; you never sulk!
Your moods are unexpected and its types are various
Your crave for those "SUBSTANCES" is hilarious!
I know that Nirvana has made your Chemistry easier
You can now point out Lithium on the Periodic Table at your leisure
That face you make when you play the guitar is that of a Negative Creep
And when you blush you remind me of Meryl Streep
You lucky dog, you share your birthday will George Harrison!
If you were born during World War II, you'd provide awesome entertainment by playing guitar at the garrison
Over the Hills and Far Away is where you'll have your tryst
A Whole Lotta Love is definitely part of your Wishlist
You're way more electrifying than Angus Young
You set the stage on fire with your guitar skills and singing at the top of your lungs
Linkin Park is your childhood and In The End, it does matter
The Caste of Glass that you're building will never shatter
Your love for Jimi Hendrix is stronger than a dose of Purple Haze
Cuz your love for that musician is true and not just a phase
Santana invented the Spiritual ****** which makes us forget all our fears
Eric Clapton breaks me down into a River of Tears
There's something similar between you and Red Hot Chili Peppers
You're both unique - and i can't find anything else to rhyme so here's the closest - Def Leppard
Continue on your musical journey and people will be dying to give you a chance
One day, the music you create, will put us all in a Psychedelic Trance
I know that when you go
You'll either take the Stairway to Heaven or Highway to Hell
I heaven, you'll be Knockin' on their Door,
If Hell, you'll be ringin' Hell's Bells...
This is a poem I wrote for one of my best friends on his 16th birthday...i made a list off all the bands he loves because he's really into rock music and a crazy guitarist and correlated it to him and converted it into a poem :)
Alyssa O Apr 2013
I am from the outdoors
from Febreeze and smoked salmon
I am from the snow covered hills
and the ice covered lakes
I am from the crowded hockey rink
the cheers and jeers
and the season ticket seats
familiar and worn

I'm from hunting and fishing
from Stacy and Layne
I'm from the military
and bad eyesight
from " 'Merica!", "Let's get DOWN!"
and raps about vicious kitties
I'm from Def Leppard, George Strait
and the Beach Boys

I'm from Hacienda and Chili's
caribou sausage and moose jerky
From the fishing hook my dad
stuck in his finger
The collarbone my brother broke on the ice... twice

This is where I come from
These things are my past
and my present
But the future is in the distance
around the bend
beyond the horizon
And I am eager for it to come
This is a piece written for a school assignment
Taylor St Onge Oct 2021
I remember so much that I wish I could forget.  

This is a poem about Psalm 23 choked out through tears.  
This is a poem about astro vans and
                                      tractor lawn mowers and
                                      driveway car washes and
                                      small garden spaces and
                                      digger wasps and
                                      three wolves and a moon.  

This is about the Backstreet Boys and
                              Def Leppard and
                              Kenny Chesney.  
“Dreams” by The Cranberries.

About waterparks and
            swim lessons and
            the smell of chlorine.  
Fresh cut grass.  Bonfire smoke permeating through the house.  

Grey diamond tiles on white linoleum.  
                                                                Hands clenched down on washcloths.

Muddled.  It’s all so muddled.  Stuck beneath
                                                           brain­ matter and cerebrospinal fluid and
                                                              down, down, down beneath the lake.  
How can I dig it out while also digging it down deeper?  
I want to forget it all.  No memory, no pain, no ******* problem.  

Goldfish life: a pipedream.
write your grief prompt #19: "begin your writing with 'I remember.'"
After Beck kin me in One Direction, and thence
Upon meeting me (in am i am the walrus who also
doubles up as mister kite - on windy days) Act Naturally
Because Crying, Waiting, Hoping For No One
in particular who will bring delight lite, like Good Day
Sunshine prompting me to perform The Hippy Hip
p Shake while Seals and Crofts dine with the late Jim Croce.

When we r close and come together, I Want To Hold Your Hand,
I Want To Tell You,  I'm Happy Just To Dance With You
The Inner Light from your being guides this fool on the hill
who needed to Get Back To The USSR boot my B52 combo
Cars getup kept Stalin this Joe Schmoe as glanced up
at passersby along Penny Lane.

Lonesome Tears In My Eyes this Mother Nature's Son
(a grown mwm),  Of Love, this modest no name brand Sun King (Elvis) at two score and nineteen Van Halen ZZTop Young Blood, who sweat his tears completing Orbitz in tandem with Earth, Wind And Fire (On A Three Dog Night) for...someone to call my Eleanor Rigby, He Jude, Honey Pie, et cetera.

Friend this Marquis De Sade light skinned (caucasian) sated bloke,
who (on green Sade Doors days) ambles along the boulevard of broken dreams axe sing (as a Petty Fuel doubting Tom
please axe a Pink Foreigner or Devo tad Survivor (asper this
Heart felt gun shy yet rosey guy) to board the pearl jam AC/DC powered Reo Speed wagon to Nirvana, particularly during a Black Sabbath.

Although aye Faith No More (and doo to Bad Company abetting my bad Hair line),I seek a SoulAsylum, where Our wings could travel charged via a super duper AC/DC Def Leppard shaped device at the speed of a SoundGarden while playing in Marcie's Playground, we Nsync like a Led Zeppelin into the depths (comprising many a Puddle Of Mud) ideal for Rolling Stones unable to Journey intoAerospace amidst Talking Heads.

If an absolute nyat, no, nada...sans the opportunity for us soar
like Eagles (where Air Supply quite thin) then I (Joe Schmoe
Money less), would like me Nickelback to purchase a ZZ
Top hat to travel incognito like a Foreigner and Survivor
of Earth, Wind and Fire maelstrom that turned his Motley Crue
into a teenage wasteland of Indigo Girls.

Tis best for this fool of a Meatloaf on the hill
Envision himself to be a Killer Grateful Dead Talking Head
   now lifeless per being terminally ill
   tumbling while tweeting n twittering jill
whose response an emphatic nyat, no nill
to help carry my pail, which stung like a quill
bryn mawr the place name along rail road still
and quiet even for Lady Madonna
   who might hear the blackbird song or a whippoorwill.

Our Wings could travel at the speed of sound
as we rise like a Led Zeppelin into the heights of Aerospace.

If an absolute nyat, no, nada...
the opportunity for us soar like Eagles
then I (Joe Schmoe Money less), would like me Nickelback.

best forU2 to text this fool on the hill
tumbling while tweeting n twittering jill
whose response an emphatic nyat, no nill
to help carry my Nine Inch Nail, which stung like a quill
bryn mawr former place name go win n One Direction (with me self as a former groupie of Traveling Wilbury's) rail road still  
might hear the blackbird song or a whippoorwill.

aye ham a non Blondie passenger, Who once
didst aboard Jefferson Airplane property of one Joan Jet.

This offer meant for U2 and haint no Cheap Trick
nor available to another Super ***** boot a once in a lifetime Luvin Spoonful of one humungous Kiss.

from -- juiced another beetle browed, civil chap, decent dude,
genteel guy, eclectic edified egghead, a Foster Child with preference for Pearl Jam Goo Goo Dolls, who goes by the pseudonym
of Arctic Monkey Beastie Boy.
The Fire Burns Oct 2017
Have you ever seen your girl,
dressed up nice and neat,
like a sweet candy
that you want as a treat.

You just want to unwrap it,
and give a little taste,
enjoy the smells and flavors,
none of which, you'd waste.

Salty and sweet,
hints of clove and tangerine,
like Def Leppard said,
pour some on me, saccharine.

Savoring every nuance,
exciting every tastebud on the tongue,
exploring every side and layer,
roaming all of her, I'm sprung.

Knocked out of my thoughts,
suddenly a kiss is on my lips,
she asks me if I'm ready,
I follow sashaying hips.

She asks me why I stare at her,
I say no particular reason, why,
then what were you thinking about,
I wink at her and smile so sly.
When all the hair was long and big.
The girls and the boys.
When Aqua net filled the air night and day and boom boxes were carried around to crank our favorite tunes.

When Europe introduced the Final Countdown.
A mantra for many a relationship.

When Tommy Tutone had everyone,
everyone dialing 867-5309.
And still dialing 867-5309 when they hear the song again.

When Loverboy had everyone "Working for the weekend."

When Rick Springfield had us all talking about "Jessie's girl" but also reminded us to never "Talk to strangers".

A time when Led Zeppelin had us "Dazed and confused" while on a "Stairway to heaven".

When Guns'n'Roses "Welcomed everyone to the jungle" like it was a "Paradise city".

A time when Twisted Sister asked, "What do you wanna do with your life" ? And we all said - "I wanna rock" !

Remember the time when "Mommy was just jealous of the Beastie boys".

Or-

When Van Halen "Erupted" because they were "Hot for teacher" and had us all "Dancing in the streets".

A time when Devo wanted you to "Whip it" good.

When Thomas Dolby "Blinded all with science".

A time when Michael Jackson wanted you to "Beat it" after watching "Thriller" with "Billie Jean".

When Billy Idol had a "White wedding" while he "Rebel yelled" at someone that had "Eyes without a face".

When Great White wanted you to "Save all your love" after they "Rock'ed me".

A time when Golden earring wanted help from "Stepping into the twilight zone".

When Ozzy Osbourne had us on a "Crazy train" with "Mr Crowley" while we were going "Over the Mountain" and "Barking at the moon".

When the Scorpions "Rocked you like a hurricane" and were "Still loving you" after.

When I needed Cinderella to "Save me" and "Shake me" because you "Don't know what ya got till it's gone".

A time when Journey allowed you to have it "Any way you want it" - "Faithfully" when you went your "Seperate ways"

Or-

When Whitesnake asked you, "Is this love" and then  "Took you down slow n easy" in the "Still of the night".

Or when Quiet Riot wanted you to "Bang your head" and to "*** on and feel the noise".

A time when the Talking heads were "Burning down the house".

Ratt was "Laying it down"
after going "Round and round" and they always brought you "Back for more"!

When the Dire Staits wanted "Money for nothing and their chicks for free".

A time when Chris de Burgh " Did not want you to pay the Ferryman".

When Def Leppard was taking a "Photograph" while "Rocking for the ages" and they weren't "Foolin" around.

A time when Bon Jovi wanted you "Dead or alive" even after "Giving love a bad name" because you were a "Runaway" and you both "Lived on prayer" as you were lain down on "A bed of roses".

Or-

When Pat Benetar wanted you to "Hit her with your best shot" while saying "You better run".

A time when Tears for Fears wanted everyone to "Shout" about "Everybody wanting to rule the world."

When Motley Crue thought that she had the "Looks that ****" but were "Too young to fall in love".

When Robert Palmer was "Addicted to love" .

When Prince wanted to "Let's go crazy" and party like it was "1999" in the "Purple rain" but only "When the doves cry"

A time when David Bowie wanted you to put on your red shoes to "Lets dance" and talk about "Modern love".

I remember when Phil Collins only wanted "One more night" because something was "In the air tonight" and "Against all odds" he made it happen.

When George Michael spoke of a "Careless Whisper" and Spandau Ballet wanted to know if it was "True".

Or-

When Hall and Oates was so "Out of touch" that they couldn't "Go for that" especially around "Private eyes".

A time when Duran Duran's "Reflex" was to "Save a prayer" and remain "Hungry like the wolf".

Was a time when Lisa Lisa "Wondered if she could take you home" ?

When Shannon wanted you to "Give her tonight".

A time when Madonna was "Into the groove" when she was "Like a ******".

When we as an era quite possibly had the best music ever, which reminds me of a big hit back then by Aha- "Take on me".

A time I wish like Eddie Money once sang about., "I wanna go back" to.
"Two tickets to Paradise please".
nick armbrister May 2019
music got me thru my darkest days
bands who i still adore even now
coz this is a rock n roll love

their songs became the soundtrack
to my life in the bad, mad and sad times
doing what i did and living life

getting the wrong girls pregnant
street racing cars and crashing them
fighting opponents i could never defeat

being at war with everything in life
drinking and drinking like it was forever
i went to the gigs and bought the t-shirts

all about eve, voice of the beehive, the bangles,
def leppard, guns n roses, metallica,
the mission, the cult, suzanne vega,

tanita tikaram, del amitri, aztec camera,
alisha’s attic, sunscreem and a thousand more
they are the reason i’m alive today...
The following binary raw bits
hither and yon to and fro flits
across eyes of unknown reader
handsomely buzzfeeding
dining viz fancy feast
donning while trumpeting
microscopic mitts.

Though yours truly
a zany, wimpy, tiny, and puny
(smaller than a breadbox)
modest nonestablishmentarian Ogre,
whereat my portable minuscule
fingerhut size adobe abode
exposed to Strunk and White raw
grammatical elements of style,
I counted Flip (Wilsonian) view,
to camouflage myself anytime
and anywhere as significant advantage.

The obvious downside
(i.e. severe limitations to pull off
major coup) forced me to axe
paunches pilot while taking a chopper
if I van nah miniaturize daring deed
(done dirt cheap) reconfigured,
retouched, recorded by Das scribe
named Magnum Opus.

Indeed, this chance to go long (equivalent
of Olympic gold) foretold godaddy peering
into granule size barren crystal ball.

Preliminary steps undertaken
to pull off impossible mission;
mo' difficult than a blind man
taking eighty steps to Jonah
infiltrating 70+ shades of gray area
prime Donald Trump real estate.

A priority prevailed to act on
the QT (q-tip) lest cover get blown,
and suspicious communique encrypted
to hire globe trotting henchmen.

Urgency spurred daring deed,
cuz targeted subject in question
majority population counted
as debouched, delirious, and
demonstrably dangerous
demagogue, in short a "FAKE"
forty fifth president!

Security details
(like stray cats on the prowl),
could sniff out ploy to re
program depraved, deranged,
and detached supposed Master
at helm, you Jesse and wait.

His audacity, effrontery,
and isolationist iffy
Oscar the grouch ideology
placed him squarely as half baked
cookie monstrosity against
former United States Commander in Chief.

First order of business necessitated
tranquilizing this doughty, haughty
enemy of the Lumpenproletariat!

Renown chemist friends of mine
(actually Civil War tin
effervescent bubble buddies)
alias Diet Coke and/or Diet Pepsi
secured an ampule Taj Mahal
~ circa 1631 vintage.

One ampule viz pill
could knock out a giant –
sans, Jack and the beanstalk fame.

No ifs, and or bots, the secret
got pulled off without spilling
figurative (jelly) beans.

Once inside auditory labyrinth,
I immediately noticed striking
deus ex machina ***** rioting
resemblance to microscopic cave.

Now follows non sequitur
with rhyme nor reason.

A thick baad a$$ sieve sludge
(vaguely resembling cerumen in consistency)
re: gooey pseudo pulpy secreted material
suctioned courtesy resultant ****** mess
in a near futile attempt
to separate Siamese sistahs
said substance issuing forth
after surgeons meticulous incisions
qualify as unsung heroes
as does illogical senseless segue way
into riff about
Def Leppard amputee drummer
Rick Allen brutally attacked
by human rabid beastie boy
posed an initial dilemma,
which audioslave solution
entailed collaboration to build
a toothpick fence.

Pensiveness unexpectedly found
unwitting subject trying
to comprehend gibberish
attempting to pass muster
as supreme poetic literature
said unsuspecting reader
reflexively scratching, poking,
and jabbing inadvertently
gesticulating at mine doppelganger
finding him listening
for subsequent instructions
from ground zero.
IM Pilot Jane A. Rug
who ascribes to writing poetry
as opportunistic, holistic, and cathartic
warming me body electric
courtesy an outsize
warm brimful coffee mug
I savor and slowly chug.

Toupee piece blew off me bald noggin
with zag and zig
went off for hair raising shindig
donning noggin of villager in Nigg
(historic county of Ross-shire,
historic region of Ross
and Cromarty, northeast
coast of Scotland).

Somehow postiche crossed the big pond
once belonged to magician,
who could create static electricity waving wand
across artificial tresses colored blond,
which wizard in disguise did abscond
with priceless peruke
(archaic word for periwig)
cuz said luxurious locks
once belonged to Dolly Parton.

Though I embellished
and expounded from original
poem still probably not very clear,
nevertheless toil onward if ye dare.

Upon occasion the missus
doth plop squat foursquare
on her plump derriere
brandishes scissors to keep hair
closely cropped to her scalp.

Once upon a time,
not very long ago somewhere
over the rainbow
within the Milky Way Galaxy,
she managed plying
chutzpah, guts and moxie to scare
connive, finagle, inveigle,
et cetera, an unused wig another
tenant at Highland
Manor Apartments here
(Compact, low slung,
and well maintained
dwellings by big booted (size 14)
previous onsite natural marvel
property manager Kevin Bair
him with shiny pate,
the former onsite jack (jilted)
of all trades handyman balladeer
crooning of Jen Tra Fide
units made like new
for those in despair
battling a crisis, and experiencing
little salvation on broken wing and prayer
low cost affordable renting facilities
though not by a near
and/or far cry ritzy as
luxury places named Bel Air,
but energy efficient air
tight, quieter than a cemetary).

Anyway, zee spouse I dare
say casts a shadow clear
the size of Rhode Island,
and chanced to acquire
ratty noggin head gear,
she did need toupee joost a dime,
and quickly realized shear
hideousness, sans "FAKE" hirsute
wig required ample
tender loving care,
thus she betook

what closely resembled
skinned hide of a distant forebear,
(or perhaps def leppard)
to Liberty thrift store,
but encountered manic tear
roar (cue Katy Perry), when enroute,
to said rectilinear
structure, out car window flew wig
landing inaccessible risking life or limb
mighty size wife easily deflected career
ring vehicles (imagine

mini measle lee Andre the Giant)
despite drivers abruptly halting to stare
as pint size super woman
gingerly didst ensnare
tire worn and tread full sorry excuse
for those claiming going bald unfair
even if renaming opposite
of being hirsute male/female
pattern receding hairline
all the way back to nape of neck.

Interesting how odd
distribution of atavistic fur
witnesses enough coily kinks
donning nether regions of body
flowing to ground within a year.
Went off for hair raising shindig
donning noggin of villager in Nigg
(historic county of Ross-shire,
historic region of Ross
and Cromarty, northeast
coast of Scotland).

Somehow postiche crossed the big pond
once belonged to magician,
who could create static electricity waving wand
across artificial tresses colored blond,
which wizard in disguise did abscond
with priceless peruke
(archaic word for periwig)
cuz said luxurious locks
once belonged to Dolly Parton.

Though I embellished
and expounded from original
poem still probably not very clear,
nevertheless toil onward if ye dare.

Upon occasion the missus
doth plop squat foursquare
on her plump derriere
brandishes scissors to keep hair
closely cropped to her scalp.

Once upon a time,
not very long ago somewhere
over the rainbow
within the Milky Way Galaxy,
she managed plying
chutzpah, guts and moxie to scare
connive, finagle, inveigle,
et cetera, an unused wig another
tenant at Highland
Manor Apartments here

(Compact, low slung,
and well maintained
dwellings by big booted (size 14)
previous onsite natural marvel
property manager Kevin Bair
him with shiny pate,
the former onsite jack (jilted)
of all trades handyman balladeer
crooning of Jen Tra Fide

units made like new
for those in despair
low cost affordable renting facilities
though not by a near
and/or far cry ritzy as
luxury places named Bel Air,
but energy efficient air
tight, quieter than a cemetary).

Anyway, zee spouse I dare
say casts a shadow clear
the size of Rhode Island,
and chanced to acquire
ratty noggin head gear,
she did need toupee joost a dime,
and quickly realized shear
hideousness, sans "FAKE" hirsute

wig required ample
tender loving care,
thus she betook
what closely resembled
skinned hide of a distant forebear,
(or perhaps def leppard)
to Liberty thrift store,
but encountered manic tear

roar, when enroute,
to said rectilinear
structure, out car window flew wig
landing inaccessible risking life or limb
mighty size wife easily deflected career
ring vehicles (imagine
mini measle lee Andre the Giant)
despite drivers abruptly halting to stare

as pint size super woman
gingerly didst ensnare
tire worn and tread full sorry excuse
for those claiming going bald unfair
even if renaming opposite
of being hirsute male/female
pattern receding hairline
all the way back to nape of neck.

Interesting how odd
distribution of atavistic fur
witnesses enough coily kinks
donning nether regions of body
flowing to ground within a year.
Chuck Kean Mar 2021
Love Is A Villain

    When I was a young man
Love was a scary thing
I listened to the rock stars
And the lyrics they would sing

So I would heed the warning
Whenever love had me in its sights
KISS Love is a slap in the face, Nazareth
Love hurts,Def Leppard, Love bites

So needless to say, when it came to love
My heart rejected made me a skeptic
I always felt that love was a fairytale
Love was something synthetic

But against everything, I trusted love
I feel for you hard and fast
I told myself that this time I
Found a true love, one that will last

In my heart I truly felt love and I thought
You were the one in a million
But you were what they warned and
Proved that love is a Villain

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 03/17/2021
All rights reserved
photographs rarely doth me justice boot at least some idea will be available if aye seem appealing enough to kiss. boy george, i will try to maintain a thorough lee good convivial over tone so police pardon moi, who calls out justin timberlake time this hermit tick lee sealed hominid dwelling metallica regular rolling stone sans placid yet poison end herman hermits stung by the scorpion human league this abba ca dabra purported - vee lad putative culture club virtual puddle of mudd digital glop, nor conclude me crud cuz, this olda boy - by george wants 2b yo steve a door miller bud jist hole dejure sly and the family stone horses that wanna prance n let there be dragons, seals and crofts me fair lady gaga cuz u auto let my *** pistol gofundme 2 see eddie money far hay, how duh name of dis swiftly tailored tar nation did ya got a hold - don't be afraid e cat nor slink away like a def leppard, fur mebbe i wrote cha from this utter alias name from zee station here or maybe at my previous abode while sipping tea? enjoy a glass of vintage wine don't let the rush o time induce necessity to reciprocate with one or more lines for your aura, charisma, enigma variations align to evoke an alluring, captivating, enervating charm of a gal, whose electronic presence felt as like an animal farm-ville replete with picture perfect barn, and chicken coop where foxes befriend each hendricks without harm dis here buoy i.e. stanley steamer doth newt goot any piercings and no tat twos any where, boot not bothered by a gal covered froom head to foot, or...one with my name i.e. matthew scott harris 'tho no emerald, ruby sapphire, nor flash gordon in the pan could ever sway me away from living a short span that would allow, enable and offer at least a millennium where we can take a spin in my car a van actually, this bloke drives a 2020 hyundai elantra, which revving engine silenced guns and roses without inducing your stomach 2 turn and skin appear to turn green, when most would agree this mutt spouts a meaningless pro verb whose poe it tree haint superb with no intent to perturb butta sprinkle your monitor with some savory her band...also ye need not worry this schlemiel ***** trained habit upon georgian bush doth politely curb. witness this somewhat inn o 50 cent pennywise thrift, nickelback, dime a dozen face no bias, boot moi christened name, would be matched by equipoise ****, and amazing grace becoming a worthy friend within the milieu of virtual place who could disguise herself as being an alien from the human race perhaps our egress living **** seems light years away in an acme safeway, wholefoods, et cetera and secure distant virtual or real space so if intrigued to learn more send bits o digital feedback in binary code or across the heavens some skywriting message these eyes (e'en though tired like twin led zeppelins) will trace. i wish (as u2 might also desire as belonging to the human league) to feel that palpable poison us scorpion stinging pearl jam metallica making egress viz in living color deep purple reigning village people. this beatle browed (harkens to the black crows of Nazareth) that sound akin 2 rushing train of pleasure that courses thru an entire being (during black sabbath) on account of welcoming frequency to explore journey toward nirvana sans writing as the mental foreplay toward...inxs letting this red hot chile peppered beastie boy playing with one bare naked lady. even if something real and tangible a possibility, you could be disinclined to step up to a closer degree of intimacy, perhaps based on seriously involvement with a significant other since progressing thru the creed dent shul of many emotional/ spiritual trials and tribulations. no need from me to resort with insistence (vis a vis induce any hype or pressure, yet once in a lifetime golden finger red opportunity) to experience one direction of joey vivre enjoyment of me as feigned bad company. police - kanye kim e sump tin faw free swiftly tailored made oh kay tee perry up so i can go gaga over ma dear lady.lettuce both induce glee juiced send n email 2 me 3 doors down with inxs of pearl jam shutters no beginning nor plea cuz ah already rote in ma dire straits pledged yar troth can, yippee contrived virtual toy story qua ratatouille poetic brew could materialize in2a likely chance such an idea prods me 2 shrek out with excitement & dance just in case a glimmer of prospect in the park exists. this self anointed bard dislikes formality, hence i present good humor skills, which hopes to enhance this chap who offers poetic expression uncommon in france. he sets sights on sand fran sis go. take a glance 2 help dis intuitive **** sapiens sharpen mental acuity like a lance bite size bit torrent word play might cause ye 2 soil pants interpreting hodgepodge as rave & rants. even platonic rapport would buoy positive stance intent worth b friend ding, 2 sway au currant series electronic charge affect hypnotic trance 4 consideration 2 advance. I betcha never red an intro duck tory reply like this quacker. i'm an ink blot from bic pentameter typed o'er electric wires boyish looking blood muggle father up in years, (whose nonpareil courage 2 face Voldemort, which exploit does tire), and 2 luv lee young adult girls want him 2 sing miles away from the choir 2 prevent game raw bits of yar self 2 acquire frum a boyish chap dreaming excitedly 4 grandiose ******* interludes joyful kindle bound by pages o love, who lives within perkiomen valley, penna, but, yukon only text. postscript nose one: would you care2 become my bride no joe king nor do i chide please take me away alive or freeze dried or sere this buck hits hide, which lil maximus m butted pill grims pride moon thuntz later whipped mir cull o joy n pure writ tin pride. postscript nose two: i noah nuttin bout witches r warlocks boot feel spellbound with magic dat mockshard science and knocks said solid ******* principles that hocks some basis in astrology n such early learning blocks of humanity - now swept away like chicken pox virus, yet those un-named discoverers of matter allow artificial satellites capable to establish docks far removed from gravitational force when (keep this on the qt), those spacecraft lobbed into cosmos base sic lee from a potion of balled up soiled red socks void where prohibited by sign language or pop yule lye vox. unlike my personality to come across like some forceful chap ling go ring, ******* buster keaton being ****** will buoy us alight if we take to some invisible primal grunting wing from - this average male member egret, who rem members when we first met and consider thee a queen for this rolling stone, who emails (then abduct) me via the net adieu. Bye. chow now, this mwm will await pleasure like when ye text me - if willing, ready, eager and able create r hard woo n intimate ace cee dee cee zip pity doo dsh fable enjoying your cuntry villa mossy two lipped gable ****** sans the medical terminology whispered to thee when voiced per phone where airwaves crackle, snap n pop like mayhem of cars or babble heard at tower of babel via telephonic cable or rsvp tap text message to me a dope gang pull chose er this label the offspring of one great great great...grandmother named Mable who adorned herself in horsehair woven from her thoroughbreds kept in a golden arched stable housing a large equus shaped table.
(Any resemblance between the following humorous account and real life circumstance tis purely coincidental).

Went off for hair raising shindig
donning noggin of villager in Nigg
(historic county of Ross-shire,
historic region of Ross
and Cromarty, northeast
coast of Scotland).

Somehow postiche crossed the big pond
once belonged to magician,
who could create static electricity waving wand
across artificial tresses colored blond,
which wizard in disguise did abscond
with priceless peruke
(archaic word for periwig)
cuz said luxurious locks
once belonged to Dolly Parton.

Though I embellished
and expounded from original
poem still probably not very clear,
nevertheless toil onward if ye dare.

Upon occasion the missus
doth plop squat foursquare
on her plump derriere
brandishes scissors to keep hair
closely cropped to her scalp.

Once upon a time,
not very long ago somewhere
over the rainbow
within the Milky Way Galaxy,
she managed plying
chutzpah, guts and moxie to scare
connive, finagle, inveigle,
et cetera, an unused wig another
tenant at Highland
Manor Apartments here

(Compact, low slung,
and well maintained
dwellings by big booted (size 14)
previous onsite natural marvel
then property manager Kevin Bair
him with shiny pate,
the former onsite jack (jilted)
of all trades handyman balladeer
crooning of Jen Tra Fide

units made like new
for those in despair
low cost affordable renting facilities
though not by a near
and/or far cry ritzy as
luxury places named Bel Air,
but energy efficient air
tight, quieter than a cemetary).

Anyway, zee spouse I dare
say casts a shadow clear
the size of Rhode Island,
and chanced to acquire
ratty noggin head gear,
she did need toupee joost a dime,
and quickly realized shear
hideousness, sans "FAKE" hirsute

wig required ample
tender loving care,
thus she betook
what closely resembled
skinned hide of a distant forebear,
(or perhaps def leppard)
to Liberty thrift store,
but encountered manic tear

roar, when enroute,
to said rectilinear
structure, out car window flew wig
landing inaccessible risking life or limb
mighty size wife easily deflected career
ring vehicles (imagine
mini measle lee Andre the Giant)
despite drivers abruptly halting to stare

as pint size super woman
gingerly didst ensnare
tire worn and tread full sorry excuse
for those claiming going bald unfair
even if renaming opposite
of being hirsute male/female
pattern receding hairline
all the way back to nape of neck.

Interesting how odd
distribution of atavistic fur
witnesses enough coily kinks
donning nether regions of body
flowing to ground within a year.

— The End —